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PROJECTILE TRAINS FOR THE MOON.— Pa^ 98. 
 
FROM THE EARTH ^ ^ 
 OS ^ ^ TO THE MOON 
 
 » 
 
 AND ROUND THE MOON 
 
 By JULES VERNE 
 
 Author of "THE MYSTERIOUS ISLAND," "THE 
 TOUR OP THE WORLD IN EIGHTY DAYS," 
 " TWENTY THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE 
 SEA," etp., etc. sg n< v« v^ s^ Ng 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY, ^ ^ ^ ^ J^ 
 ^ ^ ^ ^ PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK 
 
FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 THE GUN CLUB. 
 
 DuBiNG the War of the Rebellion, a new and influential 
 club was established in the city of -Baltimore in the State 
 of Maryland. It is well known with what energy the 
 taste for military matters became developed among that 
 nation of ship-owners, shopkeepers, and mechanics. 
 Simple tradesmen jumped their counters to beeome ex- 
 temporized captains, colonels, and generals, without hav- 
 ing ever passed the School of Instruction at West Point; 
 nevertheless, they quickly rivaled their compeers of the 
 old continent, and, like them, carried off victories by 
 dint of lavish expenditure in ammunition, money, and 
 men. ' 
 
 But the point in which the Americans singularly dis- 
 tanced the Europeans was in the science of gunnery. 
 Not, indeed, that their weapons retained a higher degree 
 of perfection than theirs, but that they exhibited nn- 
 heard-of dimensions, and consequently attained hitherto 
 unheard-of ranges. In point of grazing, plunging, ob- 
 lique, or enfilading, or point-blank firing, the English, 
 French, and Prussians have nothing to'learn; but their 
 cannon, howitzers, and mortars are mere pocket-pistols 
 compared with the formidable engines of the American 
 artillery. 
 
 This fact need surprise no one. The Yankees, the 
 first mechanicians in the world, are engineers — just as 
 
2 FROM THt! EARTH TO THE MOOS. 
 
 the Italians are musicians and the Germans metaphysicians 
 — by right of birth. Nothing is more natural, therefore, 
 ] than to perceive them applying their audacious ingenuity 
 to the science of gunnery. Witness the marvels of Par- 
 rott, Dahlgren, and Rodman. The Armstrong, Palliser, 
 and Beaulieu gans were compelled to bow before theii 
 transatlantic rivals. 
 
 Now when an American has an idea, he directly seeks 
 a second American to share it. If there be three, they 
 elect a president and two secretaries. Given four, they 
 name a keeper of records, and the oflSce is ready for work; 
 ,five, they convene a general meeting, and the club is fully 
 constituted. So things were managed in Baltimore. 
 The inventor of a new cannon associated himself with the 
 caster and the borer. Thus was formed the nucleus of 
 the "Gun Club." In a single month after its formation 
 it numbered 1,833 efEective members and 30,565 corre- 
 sponding members. 
 
 One condition was imposed as a sine qua non upon 
 every candidate for admission into the association, and 
 that was the condition of having designed, or (more or 
 less) perfected a cannon ; or, in default of a cannon, at 
 least a firearm of some description. It may, however, be 
 mentioned that mere inventions of revolvers, five-shoot- 
 ing carbines, and similar small arms, met with but little 
 consideration. Artillerists always commanded the chief 
 place of favor. 
 
 The estimation in which these gentlemen were held, 
 according to one of the most scientific exponents of the 
 Gun Club, was "proportional to the masses of their guns, 
 and in the direct ratio of the square of the distances at- 
 tained by their projectiles." 
 
 The Gun Club once founded, it is easy to conceive the 
 result of the inventive genius of the Americans. Their 
 military weapons attained colossal proportions, and their 
 
THE GUN CLUB. 3 
 
 projectiles, exceeding the prescribed limits, unfortunately 
 occasionally cut in two some unoffending pedestrians. 
 These inventions, in fact, left far in the rear the timid 
 instruments of European artillery. 
 
 It is but fair to add that these Yankees, brave as they 
 have ever proved themselves to be, did not confine them- 
 selves to theories and formnlse, but that they paid heavily, 
 in propria persona, for their inventions. Among them 
 were to be counted officers of all ranks, from lieutenants 
 to generals; military men of every age, from those who 
 were just making their deiut in the profession of arms up 
 to those who had grown old on the gun-carriage. Many 
 had found their rest on the field of battle whose names 
 figured in the "Book of Honor" of the Gun Club; and of 
 those who made good their return the greater proportion 
 bore the marks of their indisputable valor. /Crutches, 
 wooden legs, artificial arms, steel hooks, caoutchouc jaws, 
 silver craniums, platinum noses, were all to be found in 
 the collection; and it was calculated by the great statisti- 
 cian Pitcairn that throughout the Gun Club there was 
 not quite one arm between four persons, and exactly two 
 legs between six. 
 
 Nevertheless, these valiant artillerists took no particu- 
 lar account of these little facts, and felt justly proud 
 when the despatches of a battle returned the number of 
 victims at tenfold the quantity of the projectiles ex- 
 pended. 
 
 One day, however — sad and melancholy day! — peace was 
 signed between the survivors of the war; the thunder of 
 the guns gradually ceased, the mortars were silent, the 
 howitzers were muzzled for an indefinite period, the can- 
 non, with muzzles depressed, were returned into the 
 arsenal, the shot were replied, all bloody reminiscences 
 wereefEaced; the cotton-plants grew luxuriantly in the 
 well-manured fields, all mourning garments were laid 
 
4 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 aside, together with grief; and the Gnn Club was rele- 
 gated to profound inactivity. 
 
 Some few of the more advanced and inveterate theorists 
 set themselves again to work upon calculations regarding 
 the laws of projectiles. They reverted invariably to 
 gigantic shells and howitzers of unparalleled caliber. Still 
 in default of practical experience what was the value of 
 mere theories? Consequently, the clubrooms became 
 deserted, the servants dozed in the antechambers, the 
 newspapers grew mouldy on the tables, sounds of snoring 
 came from dark corners, and the members of the Gun 
 Club, erstwhile so noisy in their seances, were reduced 
 to silence by this disastrous peace and gave themselves up 
 wholly to dreams of a Platonic kind of artillery. 
 
 "This is horrible!" said Tom Hunter one evening, 
 while rapidly carbonizing his wooden legs in the fireplace 
 of the smoking-room; "nothing to do! nothing to look 
 forward to! what a loathsome existence! When again 
 shall the guns arouse us in the morning with ^heir de- 
 lightful reports?" 
 
 "Those days are gone by," said jolly Bilsby, trying to 
 extend his missing arms. "It was delightful once upon 
 a time! One invented a gun, and hardly was it cast, 
 when one hastened to try it in the face of the enemy! 
 Then onis returned to camp with a word of encouragement 
 from Sherman or a friendly shake of the hand from 
 McClellan. But now the generals are gone back to their 
 counters; and in place of projectiles, they despatch bales 
 of cotton. By Jove, the future of gunnery in America is 
 lost!" 
 
 "Ay! and no war in prospect!" continued the famous 
 James T. Maston, scratching with his steel hook his 
 gutta-percha cranium. "Not a cloud in the horizon! 
 and that too at such a critical period in the progress of 
 the science of artillery! Yes, gentlemen! I who address 
 
TEB QUN CLUB. 5 
 
 yon have myself this very morning perfected a model 
 (plan, section, elevation, etc.) of a mortar destined to 
 change all the conditions of warfare!" 
 
 "No! is it possible?" replied Tom Hunter, his thoughts 
 reverting involuntarily to a former invention of the Hon. 
 J. T. Maston, by which, at its first trial, he had succeeded 
 in killing three hundred and thirty-seven people. 
 
 "Pact!" replied he. "Still, what is the use of so many 
 studies worked out, so many difficulties vanquished? It's 
 mere waste of time! The New World seems to have 
 made up its mind to live in peace; and our bellicose 
 Tribune predicts some approaching catastrophes arising 
 out of this scandalous increase of population." 
 
 "Nevertheless," replied Colonel Blomsberry, "they are 
 always struggling in Europe to maintain the principle of 
 nationalities." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well, there might be some field for enterprise down 
 there; and if they would accept our services " 
 
 "What are you dreaming of ?" screamed Bilsby; "work 
 at gunnery for the benefit of foreigners?" 
 
 "That would be better than doing nothing here," re- 
 turned the colonel. 
 
 "Quite so," said J. T. Maston; "but still we need not 
 dream of that expedient." 
 
 "And why not?" demanded the colonel. 
 
 "Because their ideas of progress in the Old World are 
 contrary to our American habits of thought. Those 
 fellows believe that one can't become a general without 
 having served first as an ensign; which is as much as to 
 say that one can't point a gun without having first cast it 
 oneself !" 
 
 "Bidicnlous!" replied Tom Hunter, whittling with his 
 bowie-kaife the arms of his easy-chair; "but if that be 
 
6 FROM TEE EARTH TO TEE MOON. 
 
 the case there, all that is left for us is to plant tobacco 
 and distill whale-oil." 
 
 "What!" roared J. T. Maston, "shall we not employ 
 these remaining years of our» life in perfecting firearms? 
 Shall there naver be a fresU opportunity of trying the 
 ranges of projectiles? Shall the air never again be 
 lighted with the glare of our guns? No international 
 difficulty ever arise to enable us to declare war against 
 some transatlantic power? Shall not the French sink one 
 of our steamers, or the English, in defiance of the rights 
 of nations, hang a few of our countrymen?" 
 
 "No such luck," replied Colonel Blomsberry; "noth- 
 ing of the kind is likely to happen; and' even if it didj 
 we should not profit by it. American susceptibility is 
 fast declining, and we are all going to the dogs." 
 
 "It is too true," replied J. T. Maston, with fresh 
 violence; "there are a thousand grounds for fighting, 
 and yet we don't fight. We save up our arms and legs 
 for the benefit of nations who don't know what to do with 
 them! But stop — without going out of one's way to find 
 a cause for war — did not North America once belong to 
 the English?" 
 
 "Undoubtedly," replied Tom Hunter, stamping his 
 crutch with fury. 
 
 "Well, then," replied J. T. Maston, "why should not 
 England in her turn belong to the Americans?'' 
 
 "It would be but just and fair," returned Colonel 
 Blomsberry. 
 
 "Go and propose it to the President of the United 
 States," cried J. T. Maston, "and see how he will receive 
 you." 
 
 "Bah!" growled Bilsby between the four teeth which 
 the war had left him; "that will never do!" 
 
 "By Jove!" cried J. T. Maston, "he mustn't count on 
 my vote at the next election!" 
 
THE OUN CLUB. 7 
 
 "Nor on ours," replied unanimonsly all the bellicose 
 invalids. 
 
 "Meanwhile," replied J. T. Maston, "allow me to say 
 that, if I cannot get an opportunity to try my new mor- 
 tars on a real field of battle, I shall' say«good-by to the 
 members of the Gun Club, and go and bury myself in the 
 prairies of Arkansas !" 
 
 "In that case we will accompany you," cried the others. 
 
 Matters were in this unfortunate condition, and the 
 club was threatened with approaching dissolution, when 
 an unexpected circumstance occurred to prevent so de- 
 plorable a catastrophe. 
 
 On the morrow after this conversation every member of 
 the association received a sealed circular couched in the 
 following terms: 
 
 "Baltimoke, October 3. 
 "The president of the Gun Club has the honor to in- 
 form his colleagues that, at the meeting of the 5th in- 
 stant, he will bring before them ^ communication of an 
 Extremely interesting nature. He requests, therefore, 
 that they will make it convenient to attend in accordance 
 with the present invitation. Very cordially, 
 
 "Impey Baebicakb, P.G.O." 
 
FROM TEE EARTB TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 PRESIDENT BAKBICANB'S COMMUNICATION. 
 
 On the 5th of October, at eight p.m., a dense crowd 
 pressed toward the saloons of the Gnn Club at No. 21 
 Union Square. All the members of the association resi- 
 dent in Baltimore attended the invitation of their presi- 
 dent. As regards the corresponding members, notices were 
 delivered by hundreds throughout the streets of the city, 
 and, large as was the great hall, it was quite inadequate 
 to accommodate the crowd of savants. They overflowed 
 into the adjoining rooms, down the narrow passages, into 
 the outer courtyards. There they ran against the vulgar 
 herd who pressed up to the doors, each struggling to 
 reach the front ranks, all eager to learn the nature of the 
 important communication of President Barbicane; all 
 pushing, squeezing, crushing with that perfect freedom of 
 action which is peculiar to the masses when educated in 
 ideas of "self-government." 
 
 On that evening a stranger who might have chanced to 
 be in Baltimore could not have gained admission for love 
 or money into the great hall. That was reserved exclu- 
 sively for resident or corresponding members; no one else 
 could possibly have obtained a place; and the city mag- 
 nates, municipal councilors, and "select men" were com- 
 pelled to mingle with the mere townspeople in order to 
 catch stray bits of news from the interior. 
 
 Nevertheless the vast hall presented a curious spectacle. 
 Its immense area was singularly adapted to the purpose. 
 Lofty pillars formed of cannon, superposed upon huge 
 
PRESIDENT BA EBICANE '8 COMMUNICA TION. 9 
 
 mortars as a base, supported the fine ironwork of the 
 arches, a perfect piece of cast-iron lacework. Trophies 
 of blunderbuses, matchlocks, arquebuses, carbines, all 
 kinds of firearms, ancient and modern, were picturesquely 
 interlaced against the walls. The gas lit up in full glare 
 myriads of rpvolvers grouped in the form of lustres, while 
 groups of pistols, and caridelabra formed of muskets 
 bound together, completed this magnificent display of 
 brilliance. Models of cannon, bronze castings, sights 
 covered with dents, plates battered by the shots of the 
 Gun Club, assortments of rammers and sponges, chaplet^ 
 of shells, wreaths of projectiles, garlands of howitzers — 
 in short, all the apparatus of the artillerist, enchanted the 
 eye by this wonderful arrangement and induced a kind of 
 belief that th^ir real purpose was ornamental rather than 
 deadly. 
 
 At the further end of the saloon the president, assisted 
 by four secretaries, occupied a large platform. His 
 chair, supported by a carved gun-carriage, was modeled 
 upon the ponnerous proportions of a 32-inch mortar. It 
 was pointed at an angle of ninety degrees, and suspended 
 upon trundions, §o that the president could balance him- 
 self upon it as upon a rocking-chair, a very agreeable, 
 fact in the very hot weather. Upon the table (a huge 
 iron plate supported upon six carronades) stood an ink- 
 stand of exquisite elegance, made of a beautifully chased 
 Spanish piece, and a sonnette, which. When required, 
 could give forth a report equal to that of a revolver. 
 During violent debates this novel kind of bell scarcely 
 sufficed to drown the clamor of these excitable artillerists. 
 
 In front of the table benches arranged in zigzag form, 
 like the circumvallations of a retrenchment, formed a 
 succession of bastions and curtains set apart for the use of 
 the members of the club; and on this especial evening 
 one might say, "All the world was on the ramparts." 
 
10 PROM TSB EARTM TO TBB MOON. 
 
 The president was feufflciently well known, however, for 
 all to be assured that he would not put his colleagues to 
 discomfort without some very strong motive. 
 
 Impey Barbicane was a man of forty years of age, calm, 
 cold, austere; of a singularly serious and self-contained 
 demeanor, punctual as a chronometer, of imperturbable 
 temper and immovable character; by no means chivalrous, 
 yet adventurous withal, and always bringing practical ideas 
 to bear upon the very rashest enterprises; an essentially 
 New Englander, a Northern colonist, a descendant of the 
 old anti-Stuart Eoundheads, and the implacable enemy 
 of the gentlemen of the South,, those ancient cavaliers of 
 the mother country. In a word, he was a Yankee to the 
 backbone. 
 
 Barbicane had made a large fortune as a timber mer- 
 chant. Being nominated director of artillery during the 
 war, he proved himself fertile in invention. Bold in his 
 conceptions, he contributed powerfully to the progress of 
 that arm and gave an immense impetus to experimental 
 researches. 
 
 He was a personage of the middle height, having, by a 
 rare exception in the Gun Club, all his limbs complete. 
 His strongly marked features seemed drawn by square 
 and rule; and if it be true that, in order to judge of a 
 man's character one must look at his profile, Barbicane, 
 so examined, exhibited the most certain indications of 
 energy, audacity, auA sang-froid. 
 
 At this moment he was sitting in his armchair, silent, 
 absorbed, lost in reflection, sheltered under his high- 
 crowned hat — a k5nd of black silk cylinder which always 
 seems firmly screwed upon the head of an American. 
 
 Just when the deep-toned clock in the great hall struck 
 eight, Barbicane, as if he had been set in motion by a 
 spring, raised himself up. A profound silence ensued. 
 
PBEBIDENT BABBIOANE'S COMMUNICATION. H 
 
 and the speaker, in a somewhat emphatic tone of voice, 
 commenced as follows: 
 
 "My brave colleagues, too long already a paralyzing 
 peace has plunged the members of the Gun Club in de- 
 plorable inactivity. After a period of years full of inci- 
 dents we have been compelled to abandon our labors, and 
 to stop shoi't on the road of progress. I do not hesitate 
 to state, boldly, that any war which should recall us to 
 arms would be welcome!" (Tremendous applause!) "But 
 war, gentlemen, is impossible under existing circum- 
 stances; and, however we may desire it, many years may 
 elapse before our cannon shall again thunder in the field 
 of battle. We must make up our minds, then, to seek in 
 another train of ideas some field for the activity which 
 we all pine for." 
 
 The meeting felt that the president was now approach- 
 ing the critical point, and redoubled their attention ac- 
 cordingly. 
 
 "For some months past, my brave colleagues," con- 
 tinued Barbicane, "I have been asking myself whether, 
 while confining ourselves to our own particular objects, 
 we could not enter upon some grand experiment worthy 
 of the nineteenth century; and whether the progress of 
 artillery science would not enable us to carry it out to a 
 successful issue. I have been considering, working, cal- 
 culating; and the result of my studies is the conviction 
 that wo are safe to succeed in an enterprise which to any 
 other country would appear wholly impracticable. This 
 project, the result of long elaboration, is the object of my 
 present communication. It is worthy of yourselves, 
 worthy of the antecedents of the Gun Club; and it can- 
 not fail to make some noise in the world." 
 
 A thrill of excitement ran through the meeting. 
 
 Barbicane, having by a rapid movement firmly fixed his 
 hat upon his head, calmly continued hig hg,jangue: 
 
12 FROM THE EARTH TO TEE MOON. 
 
 "There is no one among yon, my brave colleagues, who 
 has not seen the Moon, or, at least, heard speak of it. 
 Don't be surprised if I am about to discourse to you re- 
 garding this Queen of the Night. It is perhaps reserved 
 for ns to become the Columbuses of this unknown world. 
 Only enter into my plans, and second me with all your 
 power, and I will lead you to its conquest, and its name 
 shall be added to those of the thirty-six States which Com- 
 pose this Great Union." 
 
 "Three cheers for the Moon!" roared the Gun Club, 
 with one voice. 
 
 "The moon, gehtlemen, has been carefully studied," 
 continued Barbicane; "her mass, density, and weight; 
 her constitution, motions, distance, as well as her place in 
 the solar system, have all been exactly determined. 
 Selenographic charts have been constructed with a per- 
 fection which equals, if it does not even surpass, that of 
 our terrestrial maps. Photography has given us proofs of 
 the incomparable beauty of our satellite; in short, all is 
 known regarding the moon which mathematical science, 
 astronomy, geology, and optics can learn about her. But 
 up to the present moment no direct communication has 
 been established with her." 
 
 A violent movement of interest and surprise here 
 greeted this remark of the speaker. 
 
 "Permit me," he continued, "to recount to you briefly 
 how certain ardent spirits, starting on imaginary journeys, 
 have penetrated the secrets of our satellite. In the seven- 
 teenth century a certain David Fabricius boasted of hav- 
 ing seen with his own eyes the inhabitants of the moon. 
 In 1649 a Frenchman, one Jean Baudoin, published a 
 'Journey performed from the Earth to the Moon by 
 Domingo Gonzalez,' a Spanish adventurer. At the same 
 period Cyrano de Bprgerac published that celebrated 
 'Journeys in the Moon' which met with such success in 
 
PBESIDENT BABBICANE'S COMMUNICATION. 13 
 
 France. Somewhat later another Frenchman, named 
 Fontenelle, wrote 'The Pluralitj^ of Worlds,' a chef- 
 CL'aeuvre of its time. About 1835 a small treatise, trans- 
 lated from the' New York American, related how Sir John 
 Herschel, having been despatched to the Cape of Good 
 Hope for the purpose of making there some astronomical 
 calculations, had, by means of a telescope brought to per- 
 fection by means of internal lighting, reduced the ap- 
 parent distance of the moon to eighty yards! He then 
 distinctly perceived caverns frequented by hippopotami, 
 green mountains bordered by golden lace-work, sheep 
 with horns of ivory, a white species of deer and inhabitants 
 with membranous wings, like bats. This brochure, the 
 work of an American named Locke, had a great sale. 
 But, to bring this rapid sketch to a close, I will .only 
 add that a certain Hans Pfaal, of Rotterdam, launching 
 himself in a balloon filled with a gas extracted from 
 nitrogen, thirty-seven times lighter than hydrogen, 
 reached the moon after a passage of nineteen hours. 
 This journey, like all previous ones, was purely imag- 
 inary; still, it was the work of a popular American author 
 — I mean Edgar Poe!" 
 
 "Cheers for Edgar Poe!" roared the assemblage, elec- 
 trified by their president's words. 
 
 "I have now enumerated," said Barbicane, "the ex- 
 periments which I call purely paper ones, and wholly 
 insufficient to establish serious relations with the Queen 
 of Night. Nevertheless, I am bound to add that some 
 practical geniuses have attempted to establish actual com- 
 munication with her. Thu^, a few days ago, a German 
 geometrician proposed to send a scientific expedition to 
 the steppes of Siberia. There, on those vast plains, they 
 were to describe enormous geometric figures, ^rawn in 
 characters of reflecting luminosity, among which was the 
 proposition regarding the 'square of the hypothenuse,' 
 
14 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOIT. 
 
 commonly called the 'Ass's Bridge' by the French. 
 'Every intelligent being,' said the geometrician, 'must 
 understand the scientific meaning of that figure. The 
 Selenites, do they exist, will respond by a similar figure; 
 and, a communication being thus once established, it will 
 be easy to form an alphabet which shall enable ns to con- 
 verse with -the' inhabitants of the moon.' So spoke th« 
 German geometrician; but his project was never put into 
 practice, and up to the present day there is no bond in 
 exiatence between the earth and her satellite. It is re- 
 served for the practical genius of Americans to establish 
 a communication with the sidereal world. The means of 
 arriving thither are simple, easy, certain, infallible — and 
 that is the purpose of my present proposal." 
 
 A storm of acclamations greeted these words. There 
 was not a single person in' the whole audience who was 
 not overcome, carried away, lifted out of himself by the 
 speaker's words! 
 
 Long-continued applause resoui ued from all sides. 
 
 As soon as the excitement had partially subsided, Bar- 
 bicane resumed his speech in a somewhat graver voice. 
 
 "You know," said he, "what p'-ogress artillery science 
 has made during the last few years, and what a degree of 
 perfection firearms of every kind have reached. More- 
 over, you are well aware that, in general terms, the resist- 
 ing power of cannon and the expansive force of gunpow- 
 der are practically unlimited. Well! starting from this 
 principle, I ask myself whether, supposing suflBcient 
 apparatus could be obtained constructed upon the condi- 
 tions of ascertained resistance, it might not be possible to 
 project a shot up to the moon?" 
 
 At these words a murmur of amazement escaped from 
 a thousand panting chests; then succeeded a moment of 
 perfect silence, resembling that profound stillness which 
 precedes the bursting of a thunderstorm. In point of 
 
PRESIDENT BABBICANE'S COMMUNICATION. 15 
 
 fact, a thnnderstorm did peal forth, but it was the thunder 
 of applause, of cries, and of uproar which made the Tery 
 hall tremble. The president attempted to speak, but 
 could not. It was fully ten minutes before he could 
 makes himself heard. 
 
 "Suffer me to finish," he calmly continued. "I have 
 looked at the question in all its bearings, I have resolutely 
 attacked it, and by incontrovertible calculations I find 
 that a projectile endowed with an initial velocity of 12,000 
 yards per second, and aimed at the moon, must necessarily 
 reach it. I have the honor, my brave colleagues, to pro- 
 pose a trial of this little experiment." 
 
16 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EFFECT OF THE PEESIDENT'S COMMUNICATION. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the effect prodnced by the 
 last words of the honorable president — the cries, the 
 shouts, the snccession of roars, hnrrahs, and all the varied 
 vociferations which the American language is capable of 
 supplying. It was a scene of indescribable confusion and 
 uproar. They shouted, they clapped, they stamped on 
 the floor of the hall. All the weapons in the musenm 
 discharged at once could not have more violently set in 
 motion the waves of sound. One need not be surprised 
 at this. There are some cannoneers nearly as noisy as 
 their own guns. 
 
 Barbicane remained calm in the midst of this enthusias- 
 tic clapnor; perhaps he was desirous of addressing a few 
 more words to his colleagues, for by his gestures he de- 
 manded silence, anJ his powerful alarum was worn out by 
 its violent reports. No attention, however, was paid to 
 his request. He .iras presently torn from his seat and 
 passed from the hands of his faithful colleagues into the 
 arms of a no less ex ;ited crowd. 
 
 Nothing can astoun#( an American. It has often been 
 asserted that the word "impossible" is not a French one. 
 People have evidently been deceived by the dictionary. ■ 
 In America, all is easy, all is simple; and as for mechani- 
 cal difficulties, they are overcome before they arise. Be- 
 tween Barbicane's proposition and its realization no true 
 Yankee would have allowed even the semblance of a diffi- 
 
EFFECT OF TEE PRESIDENT'S COMMUNICATION. I7 
 
 calty to be possible. A thing with them is no sooner said 
 than done. 
 
 The triumphal progress of the president continued 
 throughout the evening. It was a regular torchlight pro- 
 cession. Irish, Germans, French, Scotch, all the hetero- 
 geneous units which make up the population of Maryland 
 shouted in their respective vernaculars; and the "vivas," 
 "hurrahs,"' and "bravos" were intermingled in inexpress- 
 ible enthusiasm. 
 
 Just at this crisis, as though she comprehended all this 
 agitation regarding herself, the moon shone forth with 
 serene splendor, eclipsing by her intense illumination all 
 the surrounding lights. The Yankees all turned their 
 gaze toward her resplendent orb, kissed their hands, 
 called her by all kinds of endearing names. ' Between 
 eight o'clock and midnight one optician in Jones' -Pall 
 Street made his fortune by the sale of opera-glasses. 
 
 Midnight arrived, and the enthusiasm showed no signs 
 of diminution. It spread equally among all classes of 
 citizens — ^men of science^ shopkeepers, merchants, porters, 
 chair-men, as well as "greenhorns," were starred in their 
 innermost fibres. A national enterprise was at stake. 
 The whole city, high and low, the quays bordering the 
 Patapsco, the ships lying in the basins, disgorged a crowd 
 drunk with joy, gin, and whisky. Every one chattered, 
 argued, discussed, disputed, applauded, from the gentle- 
 man lounging upon the barroom settee with his tumbler 
 o| sherry-cobbler before him down to the waterman who 
 got drunk upon his "knock-me-down" in the dingy 
 taverns of Fell Point. 
 
 About two A.M., however, the excitement began to srib, 
 side. President Barbioane reached his. house, bruised, 
 crushed, and squeezed almost to a mummy. Hercules 
 could not have resisted a similar outbreak of enthusiasm. 
 The crowd gradually deierted the squares and streets. 
 
18 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 The four railways from Philadelphia and Washington, 
 Harrisburg and Wheeling, which converge at Baltimore, 
 whirled away the heterogeneous population to the four 
 corners of the United States, and the city subsided into 
 comparative tranquillity. 
 
 On the following day, thanks to the telegraphic wires, 
 five hundred newspapers and journals, daily,, weekly, 
 monthly, or bi-monthly, all took np the question. They 
 examined it under all its different aspects, physical, 
 meteorological, economical, or moral, up to its bearings 
 on politics or civilization. They debated whether the 
 moon was a finished world, or whether it was destined to 
 undergo any further transformation. Did it resemble 
 the earth at the period when the latter was destitute as 
 yet of an atmosphere? What kind of spectacle would its 
 hidden hemisphere present to our terrestrial spheroid? 
 Granting that the question at present was simply that of 
 sending a' projectile up to the moon, every one must see 
 that that involved the commencement of a series of ex- 
 periments. All must hope that some day America would 
 penetrate the deepest secrets of that mysterious orb; and 
 some even seemed to fear lest its conquest should not 
 sensibly derange the equilibrium of Europe. 
 
 The project once under discussion, not a single para- 
 graph suggested a doubt of its realization. All the 
 papers, pamphlets, reports— all the journals published by 
 the scientific, literary, and religious societies enlarged 
 upon its advantages; and the Society of Natural History 
 of Boston, the Society of Science and Art of Albany, the 
 Geographical and Statistical Society of New York, the 
 Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, and the Smith- 
 sonian of Washington sent innumerable letters of con- 
 gratulation to the Gun Club, together with offers of im- 
 mediate assistance and money. 
 
 From that day forward Impey Barbicane became one 
 
EFFECt OF THE PRESIDENT'S OOMMUmCATlON. lO 
 
 of the greatest citizens of the United States, a kind of 
 Washington of science. A single trait of feeling, taken 
 from many others, will serve to show the point which 
 this homage of a whole people to a single individual at- 
 tained. 
 
 Some few days after this memorable meeting of the 
 Gnn Clnb, the manager of an English company an 
 Donnced, at the Baltimore theatre, the production of 
 "Much ado about Nothing." But the populace, seeing 
 in that title an allusion damaging to Barbicane's project, 
 broke into the auditorium, smashed the benches, and 
 compelled the unlucky director to alter his playbill. 
 Being a sensible man, he bowed to the public will and 
 replaced the offending comedy by "As you like it;" and 
 for many weeks he realized fabulous profits. 
 
30 FROM TEE EAMTE TO TEE MOOIT. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 REPLY PBOM THE OBSEEVATOBT OF CAMBEIDGl. 
 
 BaebiCane, however, lost not one moment amid all 
 the enthusiasm of which he had become the object. His 
 first care was to reassemble his colleagaes in the board- 
 room of the Gun Club. There, after some discussion, 
 it was agreed to consult the astronomers regarding the 
 astronomical part of the enterprise. Their reply once 
 ascertained, they could then discuss the mechanical 
 means, and nothing should be wanting to ensure the suc- 
 cess of this great experiment. 
 
 A note couched in precise terms, containing special 
 interrogatories, was then drawn up and addressed to the 
 Observatory of Cambridge in Massachusetts. This city, 
 where the first university of the United States was 
 founded, is justly celebrated for its astronomical stafi. 
 There are to be found assembled all the most eminent 
 men of science. Here is to be seen at work that power- 
 ful telescope which enabled Bond to resolve the nebula 
 of Andromeda, and Clarke to discover the satellite of 
 Sirius. This celebrated institution fully justified on all 
 points the confidence reposed in it by the Gun Club. 
 So, after two days, the reply so impatiently awaited was 
 placed in the hands of President Barbicane. 
 
 It was couched in the following terms: 
 
 "The Director of the Cambridge Observatory to the Presi- 
 dent of the Gun Club at Baltimore. 
 
 "Cambeidge, October 7. 
 "On the receipt of your favor of the 6th instant, ad- 
 dressed to the Observatory of Cambridge in the name of 
 
REPLY FROM THE CAMBRIDGE OBSERVATORY. 31 
 
 the members of the Baltimore Gun Glub, our staff was 
 immediately called together, and it was judged expedient 
 to reply as follows: 
 
 "The questions which have been proposed to it are 
 these — 
 
 " '1. Is it possible to transmit a projectile up, to the 
 ■jioon ? 
 
 " '%. What is the exact djetance which separates the 
 earth from its satellite? ' 
 
 "'3. What will be the period of transit of the projec- 
 tile when endowed with sufficient initial velocity? and, 
 consequently, at what moment ought it to be discharged 
 in order that it may touch the moon at a particular point? 
 
 " '4. At what precise moment will the moon present 
 herself in the most favorable position to be reached by 
 the projectile? 
 
 " '5. What point in the heavens ought the cannon to 
 be aimed at which is intended to discharge the projectile? 
 
 " *6. What place will the moon occupy in the heavens 
 at the moment of the projectilei's departure?' 
 
 "Regarding the first question, 'Is it possible to trans- 
 mit a projectile up to the moon?' 
 
 "^raswer.-^Yes; provided it possess an initial velocity of 
 1,300 yards per second ; calculations prove that to he suf- 
 ficient. In proportion as we recede from the earth the ac- 
 tion of gravitation diminishes in the inverse ratio of the 
 square of the distance; that is to say, at three times a given 
 distance the action is nine times less. Consequently, the 
 weight of a shot will decrease, and will become reduced 
 to zero at the instant that t|ie attraction of the moon 
 exactly connterpoises that of the earth ; that is to say, 
 at "1^ of its passage. At that instant the projectile will 
 Jhave no weight whatever; and, if it passes that point, it 
 ' will fall into the moon by the sole effect of the lunar at- 
 traction. The theoretical possibility of the experiment is 
 therefore absolutely demonstratted ; its success must de- 
 pend upon the power of the engine employed. 
 
 "As to the second question, 'What is the exact distance 
 which separates the earth from its satellite?' 
 
 "Answer. — The moon does not describe a circle round 
 the earth, but rather an ellipse, of which our earth occu- 
 pies one of the foci; the consequence, therefore, is, that 
 at certain times it aporoaches nearer to, and at others i% 
 
2a FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 recedes farther from, the earth; in astronomical language, 
 it is at one time in apogee, at another m perigee. Now the 
 difference between its greatest and its least distance is too 
 considerable to be left out of consideration. In point of 
 fact, in its apogee the moon is 347,552 miles, and in its 
 perigee, 318,657 miles only distant; a fact which makes 
 a difference of 38,895 miles, or more than one-ninth of 
 the entire distance. The perigee distance, therefore, is 
 that which ought to serve as the basis of all calculations. 
 
 "To the third question: 
 
 '^Answer. — If the shot should preserve continuously its 
 initial velocity of 13,000 yards per second, it would re- 
 quire little more than nine hours to reach its destination; 
 but, inasmuch as that initial velocity will be continually 
 decreasing, it results that, taking everything into con- 
 sideration, it will occupy 300,000 seconds, that is 83hrs. 
 30m. in reaching the point where the attraction of the 
 earth and moon will be in equilibria. Prom this point it 
 will fall into the moon in 50,000 seconds, or 13hrs. 53m. 
 30sec. It will be desirable, therefore, to discharge it 
 97hrs. 18m. 30sec. before the arrival of the moon at the 
 point aimed at. 
 
 "Regarding question four, 'At what precise moment 
 will the moon present herself in the most favorable posi- 
 tion, etc.?' 
 
 "Ansioer. — After what has been said above, it will be 
 necessary, first of all, to choose the period when the 
 moon will be in perigee, and also the moment when she 
 will be crossing the zenith, which latter event will further 
 diminish the entire distance by a length equal to the 
 radius of the earth, i. e. 3,919 miles; the result of which 
 will be that the final passage remaining to be accomplished 
 will be 314,976 miles. But although the moon passes her 
 perigee every month, she does not reach the zenith al- 
 ways at exactly the same moment. She does not appear 
 under these two conditions simultaneously, except at long 
 intervals of time. It will be necessary, therefore, to wait 
 for the moment when her passage in perigee shall coincide 
 with that in the zenith. Now, by a fortunate circum- 
 stance, on the 4th of December in the ensuing year the 
 moon will present these two conditions. At midnight 
 9he will be in perigee, that is, at her shortest distaQoe 
 
REPLY FROM THE CAMBRIDGE OBSERVATORY. 33 
 
 from the earth, and at the same momeDt she will be cross- 
 ing the zenith. 
 
 "On the fifth qnestion, 'At what point in the heavens 
 ought the cannon to be aimed?' 
 
 "Answer. — The preceding remarks being admitted, 
 the cannon ought to be pointed to the zenith of the place. 
 Its fire, therefore, will be perpendicular to the plane of 
 the horizon; and the projectile -will soonest pass beyond 
 the range of the terrestrial attraction. But, in order that 
 the moon should reach the zenith of a given place, it is 
 necessary that the place should not exceed in latitude the 
 declination of the luminary; in other words, it must be 
 eomprised wthin the degrees 0° and 28° of lat. N. or S. 
 In every othei* spot the fire must necessarily be oblique, 
 which would seriously militate against the success of the 
 experiment. 
 
 "As to the sixth qu. :tion, 'What place will the moon 
 occupy in the heavens at the moment of the projectile's 
 departure?' 
 
 "Answer. — ^At the moment when the projectile shall 
 be discharged into space, the moon, which travels daily 
 forward 13° 10' 35", will be distant ^rom the-ienith point 
 by four times that quantity, i. e. by 53° 43' 20", a space 
 which corresponds to the path which she will describe 
 during the entire journey of the projectile. But, inas- 
 much as it is equally necessary to take into account the 
 deviation which the rotary motion of the earth will im- 
 part to the shot, and as the shot cannot reach the moon 
 until after a deviation equal to 16 radii of the earth, 
 which, calculated upon the moon's orbit, are equal to 
 about eleven degrees, it becomes necessary to add these 
 eleven degrees to those which express the retardation of 
 the moon just mentioned : that is to say, in round num- 
 bers, about sixty-four degrees. Consequently, at the mo- 
 ment of firing the visual radius applied to the moon will 
 describe, with the vertical line of the place, an angle of 
 sixty-four degrees. 
 
 '^These are our answers to the questions proposed to 
 the Observatory of Cambridge by the members of the 
 Gun Club: 
 
 "To sum up — 
 
 "1st. The cannon ought to be planted in a conutry 
 situated between 0° and 28° of N. or S. lat. 
 
U FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "2d. It ought to be pointed directly toward the zenith 
 of the place. 
 
 "3d. The projectile ought to be propelled with an 
 initial velocity of 13,000 yards per second. 
 
 "4th. It ought to be discharged at lOhrs. 46m. 40sec. 
 of the 1st of December of the ensuing year. 
 
 "5th. It will meet the moon four days after its dis- 
 charge, precisely at midnight on the 4th of December, at 
 the moment of its transit across the zenith. 
 
 "The members of the Gun Olub ought, therefore, with- 
 out delay, to commence the works necessary for such an 
 experiment, and to be prepared to set to work at the 
 moment determined upon; for, if they should suffer this 
 4th of December to go by, they will not find the moon 
 again under the same conditions of perigee and of zenith 
 until eighteen years and eleven days afterward. 
 
 "The staff of the Cambridge Observatory place them- 
 selves entirely at their disposal in respect of all questions 
 of theoretical astronomy; and herewith add their congrat- 
 ulations to those of all the rest of America. 
 "For the Astronomical Staff, 
 
 "J. M. Belfast, 
 "Director of the Observatory of Cambridge." 
 
THE ROMANCE OF THE MOON. 25 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE EOMANOE OE THE MOOIT. 
 
 As" observer endued with an infinite range of visioilj 
 and placed in that unknown center around which the 
 entire world revolves, might have beheld myriads of 
 atoms filling all space during the chaotic epoch of the 
 universe. Little by little, as ages went on, a change took 
 place; a general law of attraction manifested itself, to 
 which the hitherto errant atoms became obedient: these 
 atoms combined together chemically according to their 
 affinities, formed themselves into molecules, and com- 
 posed those nebulous masses with which the depths of the 
 heavens are strewed. 
 
 These masses became immediately endued with a totary 
 motion around their own central point. This center^ 
 formed of indefinite molecules, began to revolve round ita 
 own axis during its gradual condensation; then, follow- 
 ing the immutable laws of mechanics, in proportion as its 
 bulk diminished by condensation, its rotary motion be- 
 came accelerated, and these two effects continuing, the 
 tesult was the formation of one principal star, the center 
 of the nebulous mass. 
 
 By attentively watching, the observer would then have 
 perceived the other molecules of the mass, following the 
 example of this central star, become likewise condensed 
 by gradually accelerated rotation, and gravitating round 
 it in the shape of innumerable stars. Thus was formed 
 the NebulcB, of which astronomers have reckoned up nearly 
 5,000. 
 
as FEOM THE EARTH TO THE MOOHT. 
 
 Among these 5,000 nebulae there is one which has re- 
 ceived the name of the Milky Way, and which contains 
 eighteen millions of stars, each of which has become the 
 center of a solar world. 
 
 If the observer had then specially directed his atten- 
 tion to one of the more humble and less brilliant of these 
 stellar bodies, a star of the fourth class, that which is 
 arrogantly called the Sun, all the phenomena to whiqh 
 the formation of the Universe is to be ascribed would 
 have been successively fulfilled before his eyes. In fact, 
 he would have perceived this sun, as yet in the gaseous 
 state, and composed of moving molecules, revolving round 
 its axis in order to accomplish its work of concentration. 
 This motion, faithful to the laws of mechanics, would 
 have been accelerated with the diminution of its volume; 
 and a moment would have arrived when the centrifugal 
 force would have overpowered the centripetal, which 
 causes the molecules all to tend toward the center. 
 
 Another phenomenon would now have passed before 
 the observer's eye, and the molecules situated on the 
 plane of the equator escaping, like a stone from a sling 
 of which the cord had suddenly snapped, would have 
 formed around the sun sundry concentric rings resem- 
 bling that of Saturn. In their turn, again, these rings of 
 cosmical matter, excited by a rotary motion round the 
 central mass, would have been broken up and decom- 
 posed into secondary nebulosities, that is to say, into 
 planets. Similarly he would have observed these planets 
 throw off one or more rings each, which became the 
 origin of the secondary bodies which we call satellites. 
 
 Thus, then, advancing from atom to molecule, from 
 molecule to nebulous mass, from that to a principal star, 
 from star to sun, from sun to planet, and hence to 
 satellite, we have the whole series of transformations nn- 
 
THE ROMANCE OF THE MOON. 27 
 
 dergone by the heavenly bodies during the first days of 
 the world. 
 
 Now, of those attendant bodies which the sun maintains 
 in their elliptical orbits by the great law of gravitation, 
 some few in their turn possess satellites. Uranus has 
 eight, Saturn eight, Jupiter four, Neptune possibly three, 
 and the Earth one. This last, one of the least important 
 of the entire solar system, we call the Moon; and it is 
 she whom the daring genius of the Americans professed 
 their intention of conquering. 
 
 The moon, by her comparative proximity, and the con- 
 stantly varying appearances produced by her several 
 phases, has always occupied a considerable share of the 
 attention of the inhabitants of the earth. 
 
 Prom the time of Thales of Miletus, in the fifth century 
 B.C., down to that of Copernicus in the fifteenth and 
 Tycho Brahe in the sixteenth century A.D., observations 
 have been from time to time carried on with more or less 
 correctness, until in the present day the altitudes of the 
 lunar mountains have been determined with exactitude, 
 Galileo explained the phenomena of the lunar light pro- 
 duced during certain of her phases by the existence of 
 mountains, to which he assigned a mean altitude of 37,- 
 000 feet. After him H6velius, an astronomer of Dantzic, 
 reduced the highest elevations to 15,000 feet; but thei 
 calculations of Eiccioli brought them up again to 21,000 
 feet. 
 
 At the close of the eighteenth century Herschel, armed 
 with a powerful telescope, considerably reduced the pre- 
 ceding measurements. He assigned a height of 11,400 
 feet to the maximum elevatiqns, and reduced the mean of 
 the different altitudes to little more than 2,400 feet. But 
 Herschel's calculations were in their turn corrected by 
 the observations of Halley, Nasmyth, Bianchini, Gruithu- 
 ysen, and others; but it was reserved for the labors of 
 
2^ FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON". 
 
 Boeer and Maedler finally to solve the question. They 
 succeeded in measuring 1,905 different elevations, of 
 ■which six exceed 15,000 feet, and twenty-two exceed 
 14,400 feet. The highest enmmit of all towers to a 
 ■height of 22,606 feet abov^ the surface of the lunar disc. 
 At tho/Same period the examination of the moon vras com- 
 pleted. She appeared completely riddled with craters, 
 and her essentially volcanic character was apparent at 
 each observation. By the absence of refraction in the 
 rays of the planets occulted by her we conclude that she 
 is absolutely devoid of an atmosphere. The absence of 
 air entails the absence of water. It became, therefore, 
 manifest that the Selenites, to support life under such 
 conditions, must possess a special organization of their 
 own, must differ remarkably from the inhabitants of the 
 earth. 
 
 At length, thanks to modern art, instruments of 
 still higher perfection searched the moon without inter- 
 mission, not leaving a single point of her surface unex- 
 plored; and notwithstanding that her diameter measures 
 2,150 miles, her surface equals the one-fifteenth part of 
 that of our globe, and her bulk the one-forty-ninth part 
 of that of the terrestrial spheroid — not one of her secrets 
 was able to escape the eyes of the astronomers; and these 
 skillful men of science carried to even greater degree their 
 prodigious observations. 
 
 Thus they remarked that, during full moon, the disc 
 appeared scored in certain parts with white lines; and, 
 during the phases, with black. On prosecuting the study 
 of these with still greater precision, they succeeded in 
 obtaining an exact account of the nature of these lines. 
 They were long and narrow furrows sunk between parallel 
 ridges, bordering generally upon the edges of the craters. 
 Their length varied between ten and 100 miles, and their 
 width was about 1,600 yards. Astronomers called them 
 
THE ROMANCE OF THE MOON. 2^ 
 
 ^chasms, but they conld not get any further. Whether 
 these chasms were the dried-np beds of ancient rivers or 
 not they were nnable thoroughly to ascertain. 
 
 The Americans, among others, hoped one day or other 
 to determine this geological question. They also under- 
 took to examine the true nature of that system of parallel 
 ramparts discovered on the moon's surface by Gruithuysen, 
 a learned professor of Munich, who considered ' them to 
 be "a system of fortifications thrown up by the Selenitic 
 engineers." These two points, yet obscute, as well as 
 others, no doubt, could not be definitively settled except 
 by direct communication with the moon. 
 
 Regarding the degrep of intensity of its light, there 
 was nothing more to learn on this point. It was known 
 that it is 300,000 times weaker than that of the sun, and 
 that its heat has no appreciable efEect upon the ther- 
 mometer. As to the phenomenon known as the "ashy 
 light," it is explained naturally by the effect of the trans- 
 mission of the solar rays from the earth to the moon, 
 which give the appearance of completeness to the lunar 
 disc, while it presents itself under the crescent form dur- 
 ing its first and last phases. 
 
 Such was the state of knowledge acquired regarding 
 the earth's satellite, which the Gun Club undertook to 
 perfect in all its aspects, cosmographic, geological, polit- 
 ical, and moral. 
 
30 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE PERMISSIVE LIMITS OF IGN^OKANCE AND BELIEF IS 
 THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 The immediate result of Barbicane's proposition was to 
 place npon the orders of the day all the astronomical facts 
 relative to the Queen of Night. Everybody set to work 
 . to study assiduously. One would have thought that the 
 moon had just appeared for the first time, and that no 
 one had ever before caught a glimpse of her in the 
 heavens. The papers revived all the old anecdotes in 
 which the "sun of the wolves" played a part; they re- 
 called the influences which the ignorance of past ages 
 ascribed to her; in short, all America was seized with sel- 
 enomania, or had become moon-mad. 
 
 The scientific journals, for their part, dealt more es- 
 pecially with the questions which touched upon the 
 enterprise of the Gun Club. The letter of the Observa- 
 tory of Cambridge was published by them, and com- 
 mented upon with unreserved approval. 
 
 Until that time most people had been ignorant of the 
 mode in which the distance which separates the moon 
 from the earth is calculated. They took advantage of this 
 fact to explain to them that this distance was obtained by 
 measuring the parallax of the moon. The term parallax 
 proving "caviare to the general," they further explained 
 that it meant the angle formed by the inclination of two 
 straight lines drawn from either extremity of the earth's 
 radius to the moon. On doubts being expressed as to the 
 correctness of this method, they immediately proved tliat 
 
THE PEBMI88IVE LIMITS OF IGNOBANaE. 81 
 
 Bot only T^as the mean distance 234,347 miles, but that 
 astronomers could not possibly be in error in their esti- 
 mate by more than seventy miles either way. 
 
 To those who were not familiar with the motions of 
 the moon, they demonstrated that she possesses two dis- 
 tinct motions, the first being that of rotation upon her 
 axis, the second that of revolution round the earth, 
 accomplishing both together in an equal period of time, 
 that is to say, in twenty-seven and one-third days. 
 
 The motion of rotation is that which produces day and 
 night on the surface of the moon; save that there i^ only 
 one day and one night in the lunar month, each lasting 
 three hundred and fifty-four and one-third hours. But, 
 happily for her, the face turned toward the terrestrial 
 globe is illaminated by it with an intensity equal to the 
 light of fourteen moons. As to the other face, always 
 invisible to us, it has of necessity three hundred and fifty- 
 four hours of absolute night, tempered only by that "pale 
 glimmer which falls upon it from the stars." 
 
 Some well-intentioned, but rather obstinate persons, 
 conld not at first comprehend how, if the moon displays 
 invariably the same face to the earth during her revolu- 
 tion, she can describe one turn round herself. To such 
 they answered, "Go into your dining-room, and walk 
 round the table in sach a way as always to keep your face 
 turned toward the center; by the time you will have 
 achieved one complete round you will have completed 
 one turn round yourself, since your eye will have traversed 
 successively every point of the room. Well, then, the 
 room is the heavens, the table is the earth, and the moon 
 is yourself." And they would go away delighted. 
 
 So, then, the moon displays invariably the same face to 
 the earth; nevertheless, to be quite exact, it is neces- 
 sary to add that, in consequence of certain fluctuations of 
 north and sowtib, m^ ol west and east, termed her Ubra- 
 
33 FROM THE MABTE TO TEE MOON. 
 
 tion, she permits rather more than the half, that is to 
 say, five-sevenths, to be seen. 
 
 As soon as the ignoramnses came to nnderstand as 
 much as the director of the observatory himself knew, 
 they began to worry themselves regarding her revolution 
 ronnd the earth, wherenpon twenty scientific reviews 
 immediately came to the rescue. They pointed out to 
 them then that the firmament, with its infinitude of stars, 
 may be considered as one vast dial-plate, upon which the 
 moon travels, indicating the true time to all the inhabi- 
 tants of the earth ; that it is daring this movement that 
 the Queen of Night exhibits her different phases; that 
 the moon is full when she is in opposition with the sun, 
 that is, when the three bodies are on the same straight 
 line, the earth occupying the center; that she is new 
 when she is in conjunction with the sun, that is, when 
 she is between it and the earth ; and lastly, that she is in 
 her first or last quarter, when she makes with the sun 
 and the earth an angle of which she herself occupies the 
 apex. 
 
 Eegarding the altitude which the moon attains above 
 the horizon, the letter of the Cambridge Observatory had 
 said all that was to be said in that respect. Every one 
 knew that this altitude varies according to the latitude of 
 the observer. But the only zones of the globe in which 
 the moon passes the zenith, that is, the point directly 
 over the head of the spectator, are of necessity comprised 
 between the twenty-eighth parallels and the equator. 
 Hence the importance of the advice to try the experiment 
 upon some point of that part of the globe, in order that 
 the projectile might be discharged perpendicularly, and 
 BO the soonest escape the action of gravitation. This was 
 an essential condition to the success of the enterprise, 
 and continued actively to engage the public attention. 
 
 Regarding the path described by the moon in her revo- 
 
THE PEBMiSSIVE LIMITS OF IGNOBANCE. 31 
 
 Intion round the earth, the Cambridge Observatory had 
 demonstrated that this path is a re-entering curve, not a 
 perfect circle, but an ellipse, of which the earth occupies 
 one of the foci. It was also well understood that it is 
 farthest removed from the earth during its apogee, and 
 approaches most nearly to it at its perigee. 
 
 Such then was the extent of knowledge possessed by 
 every American on the subject, and of which no -one 
 could decently profess ignorance. Still, while these true 
 principles were being rapidly disseminated many errors 
 and illusory fears proved less easy to eradicate. 
 
 For instanee, some worthy persons maintained that the 
 moon was an ancient comet which, in describing its 
 elongated orbit round the sun, happened to pass near the 
 earth, and became confined within her circle of attrac- 
 tion. These drawing-room astronomers professed so to 
 explain the charred aspect of the moon— a disaster which 
 they attributed to the intensity of the solar heat; only, 
 on being reminded that comets have an atmosphere, and 
 that the moon has little or none, they were fairly at a loss 
 for a reply. 
 
 Others again, belonging to the donbting class, expressed 
 certain fears as to the position of the moon. They had 
 heard it said that, according to observations made in the 
 time of the Caliphs, her revolution had become acceler- 
 ated in a certain degree. Hence they conclnded, logically 
 enough, that an acceleration of motion ought to be ac- 
 companied by a corresponding diminution in the distance 
 separating the two bodies; and that, supposing the double 
 effect to be continued to infinity, the moon would end by 
 one day falling inta the earth. However, they became 
 reassured as to the fate of future generations on being 
 apprised that, acording to the calculations of Laplace, 
 this acceleration of motion is confined within very re- 
 etricted limits, and that a proportional diroiantioQ oj 
 
34 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 speed will be certain to succeed it. So, then, the stability 
 of the solar system would not be deranged in ages to 
 come. 
 
 There remains but the third class, the superstitions. 
 These worthies were not content merely to rest in igno- 
 rance; they must know all about things which had no exist- 
 ence whatever, and as to the moon, they had long known 
 all about her. One set regarded her disc as a polished mir- 
 ror, by means of which people could see each other from 
 different points of the earth and interchange their 
 thoughts. Another set pretended that out of one thou- 
 sand new moons that had been observed, nine hundred 
 and fifty had been attended with remarkable disturbances, 
 such as cataclysms, revolutions, earthquakes, the deluge, 
 etc. Then they believed in some mysterious influence 
 9xercised by her over human destinies — that every Selenite 
 was attached to some inhabitant of the' earth by a tie of 
 sympathy; they maintained that the entire vital system 
 is subject to her control, etc. But in time the majority 
 renounced these vulgar errors, and espoused the true side 
 of the question. As for the Yankees, they had no other 
 ambition than to take possession of this new continent of 
 the sky, and to plant upon the summit of its highest 
 elevation thd star-spangled banner of the United States 
 of America. 
 
THE HT^N OF THE CANNON-BALL. , 35 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE HTMN OP THE CANNON-BABL. 
 
 The Observatory of Cambridge in its memorable letter 
 had treated the question from a purely astronomical point 
 of view. The mechanical part still remained. 
 
 President Barbicane had, without loss of time, nomi- 
 nated a working committee of the Gun Club. The duty 
 of this committee was to resolve the three grand ques- 
 tions of the cannon, the projectile, and the powder. It 
 was composed of four members of great technical knowl- 
 edge, Barbicane (with a casting vote in case of equality), 
 General Morgan, Major Elphinstone, and J.^T. Maston, 
 to whom were confided the functions of secretary. On 
 the 8th of October the committee met at the house of 
 President Barbicane, 3 Eepublican Street. The meeting 
 was opened by the president himself. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said he, "we have to resolve one of the 
 most important problems in the whole of the n&ble science 
 of gunnery. It might appear, perhaps, the most logical 
 course to devote out first meeting to the discussion of the 
 engine to be employed. Nevertheless, after mature con- 
 sideration, it has appeared to me that the question of the 
 projectile must take precedence of that of the cannon, 
 and that the dimensions of the latter must necessarily 
 depend upon those of the former." 
 
 "Suffer me to say a word," here broke in J. T. Maston. 
 Permission having been granted, "Gentlemen," said he, 
 with an inspired accent, "our president is right in plac- 
 ing the question of the projectile above all others. Tlie 
 
36 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 ball we are about to discharge at the moon is onr ambas- 
 sador to her, and I wish to consider it from a moral point 
 of view. The cannon-ball, gentlemen, to my mind, is 
 the most magnificent manifestation of human power. If 
 Pr-ovidence has created the stars and the planets, man 
 has called the cannon-ball into existence. Let Providence 
 claim the swiftness of electricity and of light, of the 
 stars, the comets, and the planets, of wind and sound — 
 we claim to have invented the swiftness of the cannon- 
 ball, a hundred times superior to that of the swiftest 
 horses or railway train. How glorious will be the mo- 
 ment when, infinitely exceeding all hitherto attained ve- 
 locities, we shall launch our new projectile with the rapid- 
 ity of seven miles a second ! Shall it not, gentlemen — 
 shall it not be received up there with the honors due to 
 a terrestrial ambassador?" 
 
 Overcome with emotion the orator sat down and applied 
 himself to a huge plate of sandwiches before him. 
 
 ^'And now," said Barbicane, "let us quit the domain 
 of poetry and come direct to the question." 
 
 "By all means," replied the members, each with his 
 mouth full of sandwich. 
 
 "The problem before us," continued the president, "is 
 how to communicate to a projectile a velocity of 12,000 
 yards per second. Let us at present examine the veloci- 
 ties hitherto attained. General Morgan will be able to 
 enlighten us on this point." 
 
 "And the more easily," replied the general, "that dui'- 
 ing the war I was a member of the committee of experi- 
 ments. I may say, then, that the 100-pounder Dahlgrens, 
 which carried a distance of 5,000 yards, impressed upon 
 their projectile an initial velocity of 500 yards a second. 
 The Eodman Columbiad threw a shot weighing half a ton 
 a distance of six miles, with a velocity of 800 yards per 
 
lEE HTMN OB IHE CANNON-BALL. 37 
 
 seoond — a result which Armstrong and Paliaser have 
 never obtained in England." 
 
 "This," replied Barbicane, "is, I believe, the maximnm 
 velocity every attained?" 
 
 "It is so," replied the general. 
 
 "Ah!" groaned J. T. Maston, "if my mortar had not 
 burst " 
 
 "Yes," quietly replied Barbicane,'"but it did burst. 
 We must take, then, for our starting point, this velocity 
 of 800 yard's. We must increase it twenty-fold. Now, re- 
 serving for another discussion the means of producing this 
 velocity, I will call your attention to the dimensions 
 vrhich it will be proper to assign to the shot. You un^ 
 derstand that we have nothing to do here with projectiles 
 weighing at most but half a ton." 
 
 "Why not?" demanded the major. 
 
 "Because the shot," quickly replied J. T. Maston, 
 "must be big enough to attract the attention of the in- 
 habitants of the moon, if there are any?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Barbicane, "and for another reason 
 more important still." 
 
 "What mean you?" asked the major. 
 
 "I mean that it is not enough to discharge a projectile, 
 and then take no further notice of it; we must follow it 
 throughout its course, up to the moment when it shall 
 reach its goal." 
 
 "What?" shouted the general and the major in great 
 surprise. 
 
 "Undoubtedly," replied Barbicane composedly, "or our 
 experiment would produce no result." 
 
 "But then," replied the major, "you will have to give 
 this projectile enormous dimensions." 
 
 "No! Be so good as to listen. You know that optical 
 instruments have acquired great perfection; with certain 
 telescopes we have succeeded in obtaining enlargements 
 
38 FROM THE EARTH TO TEE MOON. 
 
 of 6,000 times and reducing the moon to within forty 
 miles' distance. Now, at this distance, any objects sixty 
 feet square would be perfectly visible. 
 
 If, then, the penetrative power of telescopes has not 
 been further increased, it is because that power detracts 
 from their light; and the moon, which is but a reflecting 
 mirror, does not give back sufficient light to enable us to 
 perceive objects of lesser magnitude." 
 
 "Well, then, what do you propose to do?" asked the 
 general. "Would yon give your projectile a diameter of 
 sixty feet?" 
 
 "Not so." 
 
 "Do you intend, then, to increase the luminous power 
 of the moon?" 
 
 "Exactly so. If I can succeed in diminishing the 
 density of the atmosphere through which the moon's 
 light has to travel I shall have rendered her light more 
 intense. To effect that object it will be enough to estab- 
 lish a telescope on some elevated mountain. That is 
 what we will do." 
 
 "I give it up," answered the major. "You have such 
 a way of simplifying things. And what enlargement do 
 you expect to obtain in this way?" 
 
 "One of 48,000 times, which should bring the moon 
 within an apparent distance of five miles; and, in order 
 to be visible, objects need not have a diameter of more 
 than nine feet." 
 
 "So, then," cried J. T. Maston, "our projectile need 
 not be more than nine feet in diameter." 
 
 "Let mo observe,. however," interrupted Major Elphin- 
 stone, "this will involve a weight such as " 
 
 "My dear major," replied Barbicane, "before discus- 
 sing its weight permit me to enumerate some of the mar- 
 vels which our ancestors have achieved in this respect. 
 I don't mean to pretend that the science of gunnery has 
 
THE HTMN OF TEE OANNON-BALL. 39 
 
 not advanced, bnt it is as well to bear in mind that dur- 
 ing the middle ages they obtained results more surpris- 
 ing, I will venture to say, than ours. For instance, dur- 
 ing the siege of Constantinople by Mahomet II., in 14^3, 
 stone shot of 1,900 pounds weight were employed. At 
 Malta, in the time of the knights, there was a gun of the 
 fortress of St. Elmo which threw a projectile weighing 
 2,500 pounds. And, now, what is the extent of what we 
 have seen ourselves? .Armstrong guns discharging shot 
 of 500 pounds, and the Eodman guns projectiles of half a 
 ton! It seems, then, that if projectiles have gained in 
 range, they have lost far more in weight. Now, if we 
 turn our efforts in that direction, we ought to arrive, witli 
 the progress of science, at ten times the weight of the 
 shot of Mahomet II. and the Knights of Malta." 
 
 "Clearly," replied the major; "but what metal do you 
 calculate upon employing?" 
 
 "Simply cast iron," said General Morgan. 
 
 "But," interrupted the major, "since the weight of a 
 shot is proportionate to its volume, an iron ball of nine 
 feet in diameter would be of tremendous weight." 
 
 "Yes, if it were solid, not if it were hollow." 
 
 "Hollow? then it would be a shell.''" 
 
 "Yes, a shell,"' replied Barbicane; "decidedly it must 
 be. A solid shot of 108 inches would weigh more 
 (than 200,000 pounds, a weight evidently far too greats 
 'Still, as we must reserve a certain stability for our projec- 
 tile, I propose to give it a weight of 20,000 pounds." 
 
 "What, then, will be the thickness of the sides?" 
 asked the major. 
 
 "If we follow the usual proportion," replied Morgan, 
 **a diameter of 108 inches would require sides of two fe^t 
 thickness, or less." 
 
 "That would be too much," replied Barbicane; "for 
 yoa will observe that the question is not that of a shot 
 
40 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 intended to pierce an iron plate: it will suffice, therefore, 
 to give it sides strong enough to resist the pressure of the 
 gas. The problem, therefore, is this — What thickness 
 ought a cast-iron shell to have in order not to weigh 
 more than 20,000 pounds? Our clever secretary will 
 soon enlighten us upon this point." 
 
 "Nothing easier," replied the worthy secretary of the 
 committee; and, rapidly tracing a few algebraical formulae 
 upon paper, among which n^ and a? frequently appeared, 
 he presently said : 
 
 "The sides will require a thickness of less than two 
 inches." 
 
 "Will that be enough?" asked the major doubtfully. 
 
 "Clearly not!" replied the president. 
 
 "What is to be done, then?" said Blphinstone, with a 
 puzzled air. 
 
 "Employ another metal instead of iron." 
 
 "Copper?" said Morgan. 
 
 "No; that would be too heavy. I have better than 
 that to ofEer." 
 
 "What then?" asked the major. 
 
 "Aluminium!" replied Barbicane. 
 
 "Aluminium?" cried his three colleagues in chorus. 
 
 "Unquestionably, my friends. This valuable metal 
 possesses the whiteness of silver, the indestructibility of 
 gold, the tenacity of iron, the fusibility of copper, the 
 lightness of glass. It is easily wrought, is very widelv 
 distributed, forming the base of most of the rocks, is 
 three times lighter than iron, and seems to have been 
 created for the express purpose of furnishing us with the 
 material for our projectile." 
 
 "But, my dear president," said the major, "is not the 
 cost price of aluminium extremely high?" 
 
 "It was so at its first discovery, but it has fallen now to 
 nine dollars the pound." 
 
2EE HTMN OF THE CANNON-BALL. 41 
 
 "But still, nine dollars the pound!" replied the major, 
 who was not willing readily to give in; "even that is an 
 enormous price." 
 
 "Undoubtedly, my dear major; but not beyond our 
 reach. " 
 
 "What will the projectile weigh then?" asked Morgan. 
 
 "Here is the result of my calculations," replied Barbi- 
 cane. "A shot of 108 inches in diameter, and twelve 
 inches in thickness, would weigh, in cast-iron, 67,440 
 pounds; cast in aluminium, its weight will be reduced to 
 19,250 pounds." 
 
 "Capital!" cried the major; "but do you know that, at 
 nine dollars the pound, this projectile will cost " 
 
 "One hundred and seventy-three thousand and fifty 
 dollars ($173,050). I know it quite well. But fear not, 
 my friends; the money will not be wanting for our enter- 
 prise, I will answer for it. Now what say you to alumin- 
 ium, gentlemen?" 
 
 "Adopted!" replied the three members of the commit- 
 tee. So ended the first meeting. The question of th« 
 projectile was definitively settled. 
 
42 S'ROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE CANNON. 
 
 The resolutions passed at the last meeting produced a 
 great effect out of doors. Timid people took fright at 
 the idea of a shot weighing 30,000 pounds being lannched 
 into space; they asked what cannon could ever transmit a 
 suflBcient velocity to such a mighty mass. The minutes of 
 the second meeting were destined triumphantly to answer 
 such questions. The following evening the discussion 
 was renewed. 
 
 "My dear colleagues," said Barbicane, without fur- 
 ther pi*eamble, "the subject now before us is the con- 
 struction of the engine, its length, its composition, 
 and its weight. It is probable that we shall end by giv- 
 ing it gigantic dimensions; but however great may be 
 the difficulties in the way, our mechanical genius will 
 readily surmount them. Be good enough, then, to give 
 me your attention, and do not hesitate to make objections 
 at the close. I have no fear of them. The problem be- 
 fore us is how to communicate an initial force of 12,000 
 yards per second to a shell of 108 inches in diameter, 
 weighing 20,000 pounds. Now when a projectile is 
 lannched into space, what happens to it? It is acted 
 upon by three independent forces: the resistance of the 
 air, the attraction of the earth, and the force of impul- 
 sion with which it is endowed. Let us examine these 
 three forces. The resistance of the air is of little im- 
 portance. The atmosphere of the earth does not exceed 
 forty miles. Now, with the given rapidity, the projectile 
 
mSTOBT OF THE CANNON. 43 
 
 will have traversed this in five seconds, and the period is 
 too brief for the resistance of ;fche medium to be regarded 
 otherwise than as iusignificant. Proceeding, then, to the 
 attraction of the earth, that is, the weight of the shell, we 
 know that this weight- will diminish in the inverse ratio 
 of the square of the distance. When a body left to itself 
 falls to the surface of the earth, it falls five feet in the first 
 second; and if the same body were removed 257,542 miles 
 farther off, in other words, to the distance of the moon, 
 its fall would be reduced to about half a line in the first 
 second. That is almost equivalent to a state of perfect 
 rest. Our business, then, is to overcome progressively 
 this action of gravitation. The mode of accomplishing 
 that is by the force of impulsion." 
 
 "There's the difficulty," broke in the major. 
 
 "True," replied the president; "but we will overcome 
 that, for this force of impulsion will depend upon the 
 length of the engine and tlie powder employed, the latter 
 being limited only by the resisting power of the former. 
 Our business, then, to-day is with the dimensions of the 
 cannon." 
 
 "Ifow, up to the present time," said Barbicane, "our 
 longest guns have not exceeded twenty-five feet in length. 
 We shall therefore astonish the world by the dimensions 
 we shall be obliged to adopt. It must evidently fee, then, 
 a gun of great range, since the length of the piece will 
 increase the detention of the gas accumulated behind the 
 projeotila; but there is no advantage in passing certain 
 limits." 
 
 "Quite so," said the major. "What is the rule in such 
 a case?" 
 
 "Ordinarily the length of a gun is twenty to twenty- 
 five times the diameter of the phot, and its weight two 
 hundred and tbirty-five to twq J}undred ^fl^ forty times 
 
 that of the sljQti" 
 
44 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "That is not enongh," cried J. T. Maston impetuonsly. 
 
 "I agree with you, my good friend; and, in fact, fol- 
 lowing this proportion for a projectile nine feet in diame- 
 ter, weighing 30,000 pounds, the gun would only have a 
 length of two hundred and twenty-five feet, and a weight 
 of 7,200,000 pounds." 
 
 "Ridiculous!" rejoined Maston. "As well take a 
 pistol." 
 
 "I think so too," replied Barbicane; "that is why I 
 propose to quadruple that length, and to construct a gun 
 of nine hundred feet." 
 
 The general and the major offered some objections; 
 nevertheless, the proposition, actively supported by the 
 secretary, was definitively adopted. 
 
 "But," said Elphinstone, "what thickness must we 
 give it?" 
 
 "A thickness of six feet," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "You surely don't think of mounting a mass like that 
 upon a c&rriage?" asked the major. 
 
 "It would be a superb idea, though," said Maston. 
 
 "But impracticable," replied Barbicane. "No; I 
 think of sinking this engine in the earth alone, binding 
 it with hoops of wrought iron, and finally surrounding it 
 with a thick mass of masonry of stone and cement. The 
 piece once cast, it must be bored with great precision, so 
 as to preclude any possible windage. So there will be no 
 loss whatever of gas, and all the expansive force of the 
 powder will be employed in the propulsion." 
 
 "One simple question," said Elphinstone: "is our gun 
 to be rifled?" 
 
 "No, certainly not," replied Barbicane; "we require 
 an enormous initial velocity; and you are well aware that 
 a shot quits a rifled gun less rapidly than it does a smooth" 
 bore." 
 
 •'Tyqe," rejoined the major. 
 
EISTORT OF THE OANNON. 45 
 
 The committee here adjourned for a few minutes to tea 
 and sandwiches. , 
 
 On the discussion being renewed, "Gentlemen," said 
 Barbicane, "we must now take into consideration the 
 metal to be employed. Our cannon must be possessed of 
 great tenacity, great hardness, be infusible by heat, indis- 
 soluble, and inoxydable by the corrosive action of acids." 
 
 "There is no doubt about that," replied the major; 
 "and as we shall have to employ an immense quantity of 
 metal, we shall not be at a loss for choice." 
 
 "Well, then," said Morgan, "I propose the best alloy 
 hitherto known, which consists of one hundred parts of 
 copper, twelve of tin, and six of brass." 
 
 "I admit," replied the president, "that this composi- 
 tion has yielded excellent results, but in the present case 
 it would be too expensive, and very difficult to work. I 
 think, then, that we ought to adopt a material excellent 
 in its way and of low price, such as cast iron. What is 
 your advice, major?" , 
 
 "I quite agree with you," replied Elphinstone. 
 
 "In fact," continued Barbicane, "cast iron costs ten 
 times less than bronze; it is easy to cast, it runs readily 
 from the moulds of sand, it is easy of manipulation, it is 
 at once economical of money and of time. In addition, 
 it is excellent as a material, and I well remember that 
 during the war, at the siege of Atlanta, some iron guns 
 fired one thousand rounds at intervals of twenty minutes 
 without injury." 
 
 "Cast iron is very brittle, though," replied Morgan. 
 
 "Yes, but it possesses great resistance. I will now ask 
 our worthy secretary to calculate the weight of a cast- 
 iron gun with a bore of nine feet and a thickness of six 
 feet of metal." 
 
 "Jr a wiomept," replied Maston. Then, dashing ofE 
 
46 FROM THB EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 some algebraical formnlse with marvelous facility, in a 
 mintite or two he declared the following result: 
 
 "The cannon will weigh 68,040 tons. And, at two 
 cents a pound, it will cost " 
 
 "Two million five hundred and ten thousand seven 
 hundred and one dollars." 
 
 Maston, the major, and the general regarded Barbicane 
 with uneasy looks. 
 
 "Well, gentlemen," replied the president, "I repeat 
 what I said yesterday. Make yourselves easy; the mil- 
 lions will not be wanting." 
 
 With this assurance of their president the committee 
 separated, after having fised their third meeting for the 
 following evening. 
 
THE QUESTION OF TEE P0WBEB8. ' 47 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE QUESTION OF THE POWDEES. 
 
 There remained for consideration merely the question 
 of powders. The public awaited with interest its final 
 decision. The size of the projectile, the length of the 
 cannon being, settled, what would be the quantity of pow- 
 der necessary to produce impulsion? 
 
 It is generally asserted that gunpowder was invented 
 in the fonrteenth century by the monk Schwartz, who 
 paid for his grand discovery with his life. It is, however, 
 pretty well proved that this story ought to be ranked 
 among the legends of the middle ages. Gunpowder was 
 not invented by any one; it was the lineal successor of 
 the Greek fire, which, like itself, was composed of sulphur 
 and saltpeter. Few persons are acquainted with the 
 mechanical power of gunpowder. Now this is precisely 
 what is necessary to be understood in order to comprehend 
 the importance of the question submitted to the com- 
 mittee. 
 
 A litre of gunpowder weighs about two pounds; during 
 combustion it produces 400 litres of gas. This gas, on 
 being liberated and acted upon by temperature raised to 
 2,400 degrees, occupies a space of 4,000 litres; conse- 
 quently the volume of powder is to the volume of gas 
 produced by its combustion as 1 to 4,000. One may 
 judge, therefore, of the tremendous pressure ou this gas 
 when compressed within a space 4,000 times too confined. 
 All this was, of course, well known to the members of 
 the committee when they met on the following evening. 
 
48 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 The first speaker on this occasion was Major Blphin- 
 stone, who had been the director of the gunpowder fac- 
 tories during the war. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said this distinguished chemist, "I begin 
 with some figures which will serve as the basis of our cal- 
 culation. The old 24-ponnder shot required for its dis- 
 charge sixteen pounds of powder." 
 
 "You are certain of the amount?" broke in Barbicane. 
 
 "Quite certain," replied the major. "The Armstrong 
 cannon employs only seventy-five pounds of powder for a 
 projectile of eight hundred pounds, and the Eodman Co- 
 lumbiad uses only one handred and sixty pounds of powder 
 to send its half-ton shot a distance of six miles. These 
 facts cannot be called in question, for I myself raised the 
 point during the depositions taken before the committee 
 of artillery." 
 
 "Quite true," said the general. 
 
 "Well," replied the major, "these figures go to prove 
 that the quantity of powder is not increased with the 
 weight of the shot ; that is to say, if a 24-pounder shot 
 requires sixteen pounds of powder; — in other words, if in 
 • ordinary guns we employ a quantity of powder equal to 
 two-thirds of the weight of the projectile, this proportion 
 is not constant. Calculate, and yon will see that in 
 place of three hundred and thirty-three pounds of pow- 
 der, the quantity is reduced to no more than one hun- 
 dred and sixty pounds." 
 
 "What are you aiming at?" asked the president. 
 
 "If you push your theory to extremes, my dear major," 
 said J. A. Maston, "you will get to this, that as soon as 
 your shot becomes sufiBciently heavy you will not require 
 any powder at all." 
 
 "Our friend Maston is always at his jokes, even. in 
 serious matters," cried the major; "but let him make 
 bis mind easy, I am going presently to propose gunpow- 
 
THE QUESTION OF THE POWDERS. 49 
 
 der enough to satisfy his artillerist's propensities. I only 
 keep to statistical facts when I say that, during the war, 
 and for the very largest guns, the weight of powder was 
 reduced, as the result of experience, to a tenth part of the 
 weight of the shot." 
 
 "Perfectly correct," said Morgan; "but before decid- 
 ing the quantity of powder necessary to give the impulse,! 
 I think it would be as well " ' 
 
 "We shall have to employ a large-grained powder," 
 continued the major; "its combustion is more rapid than 
 that of the small." 
 
 "No doubt about that," replied Morgan; "but it is 
 very destructive, and, ends by enlarging the bore of the 
 pieces." 
 
 "Granted ; but that which is injurious to a gun destined 
 to perform long service is not so to our Oolumbiad. We 
 shall run no danger of an explosion; and it is necessary 
 that our powder should take fire instan'taneously in order 
 that its mechanical effect my be complete." 
 
 "We must have," said Maston, "several touch-holes, 
 so as to fire it at different points at the same time." 
 
 "Certainly," replied Elphinstone; "but that will ren- 
 der the working of the piece more difficult. I return 
 then to my large-grained powder, which removes those 
 difficulties. In his Oolumbiad charges Eodman employed 
 a powder as large as chestnuts, made of willow charcoal, 
 simply dried in cast-iron pans. This powder was hard 
 and glittering, left no trace upon the hand, contained 
 hydrogen and oxygen in large proportion, took fire in- 
 stantaneously, and, though very destructive, did not sen- 
 sibly injure the mouth-piece." 
 
 Up to this point Barbicane had kept aloof from the 
 discussion ; he left the others to speak while he himself 
 listened; be bad evidently got an idea. He now simply 
 
60 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 said, "Well, my friends, what quantity of powder do you 
 propose?" 
 
 The three members look at one another. 
 
 "Two hundred thousand pounds," at last said Morgan. 
 
 "Five hundred thousand," added the major. 
 
 "Eight hundred thousand," screamed Maston. 
 
 A moment of silence followed this triple proposal; it 
 was at last broken by the president. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he quietly said, "I start from this prin- 
 ciple, that the resistance of a gun, constructed under the 
 given conditions, is unlimited. I shall surprise our 
 friend Maston, then, by stigmatizing his calculations as 
 timid; and I propose to double his 800,000 pounds of 
 powder." 
 
 "Sixteen hundred thousand pounds?" shouted Maston, 
 leaping from his seat. 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 "We shall have to come then to my ideal of a cannon 
 half a mile long; for you see 1,600,000 pounds will occupy 
 a space of about 20,000 cubic feet; and since the contents 
 of your cannon do not exceed 54,000 cubic feet, it would 
 be half full; and the bore will not be more than long 
 enough for the gas to communicate to the projectile 
 sufficient impulse." 
 
 "Nevertheless," said the president, "I hold to that 
 quantity of powder. Now, 1,600,000 pounds of powder 
 will create 6,000,000,000 litres of gas. Six thousand mil- 
 lions! You quite understand?" 
 
 "What is to be done then?" said the general. 
 
 "The thing is very simple; we must reduce this enor- 
 mous quantity of powder, while preserving to it its 
 mechanical power." 
 
 "Good; but by what means?" 
 
 "I am going to tell you," replied Barbicane quietly. 
 
 "Nothing is more easy than to reduce this mass to one 
 
TEE QUESTION OF THE POWDERS. 51 
 
 quarter of its bulk. You know that curious cellular mat- 
 ter which constitutes the elementary tissues of vegetables? 
 This substance is found quite pure in many bodies, es- 
 pecially in cotton, which is nothing more than the down 
 of the seeds of the cotton plant. Now cotton, combined 
 with cold nitric acid, becomes transformed into a sub- 
 stance eminently insoluble, combustible, and explosive. 
 It was first discovered in 1832, by Braconnot, a French 
 chemist, who called it xyloidine. In 1838 another 
 Frenchman, Pelouze, investigated itsdijffierent properties, 
 and finally, in 1846, Schonbein, professor of chemistry 
 at Bdle, proposed its employment for purposes of war. 
 This powder, now called pyroxyle, or fulminating cotton, 
 is prepared with great facility by simply plunging cotton 
 for fifteen minutes in nitric acid, then washing it in 
 water, then drying it, and it is ready for use." 
 
 "Nothing could be more simple," said Morgan. 
 
 "Moreover, pyroxyle is unaltered by moisture — a val- 
 uable property to us, inasmuch as it would take several 
 days to charge the cannon. It ignites at 170 degrees in 
 place of 240, and its combustion is so rapid that one may 
 set light to it on the top of ordinary powder, without the 
 latter having time to ignite." 
 
 "Perfect!" exclaimed the major. 
 
 "Only it is more expensive." 
 
 "What matter?" cried J. T. Maston. 
 
 "Finally, it imparts to projectiles a velocity four times 
 superior to that of gunpowder. I will even add, that ij;| 
 we mix with it one-eighth of its own weight of nitrate of 
 potassium, its expansive force is again considerably aug- 
 mented." 
 
 "Will that be necessary?" asked the major. 
 
 "I think not," replied Barbicane. "So, then, in place 
 of 1,600,000 pounds of powder, we shall have but 400,000 
 pounds of fulminating cotton; and since we can, withoat 
 
53 FROM THE EASTS TO THE MOON. 
 
 danger, compress 500 pounds of cotton into twenty-seven 
 cubic feet, the whole quantity will not occupy a height of 
 more than 180 feet within the bore of the Columbiad. 
 In this way the shot will have more than 700 feet of bore 
 to traverse under a force of 6,000,000,000 litres of gas 
 before taking its flight toward the moon." 
 
 At this juncture J. T. Maston could not repress his 
 emotion; he flung himself into the arms of his friend 
 with the violence of a projectile, and Barbicane would 
 have been stove in if he had not been boomproof. 
 
 This incident terminated th^ third meeting of the com- 
 mittee. 
 
 Barbicane and his bold colleagues, to whom nothing 
 seemed impossible, had succeeded in solving the complex 
 problems of projectile, cannon, and powder. Their plan 
 wasjdtawn up, and it only remained to put it in execu- 
 tion. 
 
 "A mere matter of detail, a bagatelle," said J. T. 
 MaatoB. 
 
ONE ENEMY. 53 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 jnb enemy v. twenty-five millions of fkiends. 
 
 The American public took a lively interest in the 
 smallest details of the enterprise of the Gnn Clnb. It 
 followed day by day the discussions of the committee. 
 The most simple preparation for the great experiment, 
 the questions of iigures which it involved, the mechanical 
 difficulties to be resolved — in one word, the entire plan 
 of work — roused the popular excitement to the highest 
 pitch. 
 
 The purely scientific attraction was suddenly intensi- 
 fied by the following incident: 
 
 We have seen what legions of admirers and friends 
 Barbicane's project had irallied round its author. There 
 was, however, one single individual aloho n a ' the States 
 of the Union who protested again t iLe "tteupt of the 
 Gun Club. He attacked it funouoly en avery opportu- 
 nity, and human nature is suoh that B<trbica ^e felt more 
 keenly the opposition of that one man tuan 1 e did the ap- 
 plause of all the others. He was well awar. of the motive 
 of this antipathy, the origin of this solitary enmity, the 
 cause of its personality and old standing, and in what 
 Hvalry of self-love it had its rise. 
 
 This persevering enemy the president of the Gun 
 Club had never seen. Fortunate that it was so, for a 
 meeting between the two men would certainly have been 
 attended with serious consequences. This rival was a 
 man of science, like Barbicane himself, of a fiery, daring, 
 and violent disposition; a pure Yankee. His name was 
 Captain Kicholl; he lived at Philadelphia. 
 
54 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOHT. 
 
 Most people are aware of the cnrions struggle which 
 arose during the Federal war between the gans and the 
 armor of iron-plated ships. The result was the entire re- 
 construction of the navy of both the continents; as the 
 one grew heavier, the other became thicker in proportion. 
 The Merrimac, the Monitor, the Tennessee, the Wee- 
 hawken discharged enormous projectiles themselves, after 
 having been armor-clad against the projectiles of others. 
 In fact they did to others that which they would not they 
 should do to them — that grand principle of immorality 
 upon which rests the whole art of war. 
 
 Now if Barbicane was a great founder of shot, NichoU 
 was a great forger of plates; the one cast night and day 
 at Baltimore, the other forged day and night at Philadel- 
 phia. As soon as ever Barbicane invented a new shot, 
 NichoU invented a new plate; each followed a current of 
 ideas essentially opposed to the other. Happily for these 
 citizens, so useful to their country, a distance of from fifty 
 to sixty miles separated them from one another, and they 
 had never yet met. Which of these two inventors had 
 the advantage over the other it was difficult to decide 
 from the results obtained. By last accounts, however, it 
 would seem that the armor-plate would in the end have 
 to give way to the shot; nevertheless, there were com- 
 petent judges who had their doubts on the point. 
 
 At the last experiment the cylindro-conical projectiles 
 of Barbicane stuck like so many pins in the Nicholl 
 plates. On that day the Philadelphian iron-forger then 
 believed himself victorious, and could not evince con- 
 tempt enough for his rival; but when the other after- 
 ward substituted for conical shot simple 600-pound shells, 
 at very moderate velocity, the captain was obliged to give 
 in. In fact, these projectiles knocked his best metal- 
 plate to shivers. 
 
 Matters were at this stage, and victory seemed to rest 
 
ONB ENEMY. 55 
 
 with the shot, when the war came to an end on the very 
 day when Nicholl, had completed a new armor-plate of 
 wrought steel. It was a masterpiece of its kind, and bid 
 defiance to all the projectiles in the world. The captain 
 had it conveyed to the Polygon at Washington, challeng- 
 ing the president of the Gun Club to break it. , Barbi- 
 cane, peace having been declared, declined to try the ex- 
 periment. 
 
 Nicholl, now furious, ojEEered to expose his plate to the 
 shock of any shot, solid, hollow, round, or conical. Ee- 
 fnsed by the president, who did not choose to compromise 
 his last success. 
 
 Nicholl, disgusted by this obstinacy, tried to tempt 
 Barbicane by offering him every chance. He proposed to 
 fix the plate within two hundred yards of the gun. Bar- 
 bicane still obstinate in refusal. A hundred yards? Not 
 even seventy-five! 
 
 "At fifty then !" roared the captain through the news- 
 papers. "At twenty-five yards! and I'll stand behind!" 
 
 Barbicane returned for answer that, even if Captain 
 Nicholl would be so good as to stand in front, he would 
 not fire any more. 
 
 Nicholl could not contain himself at this reply; threw 
 out hints of cowardice; that a man who refused to fire a 
 cannon-shot was pretty near being afraid of it; that 
 artillerists who fight at six miles' distance are substituting 
 mathematical formulae for individual courage. 
 
 To these insinuations Barbicane returned no answer; 
 perhaps he never heard of them, so absorbed was he in 
 the calculations for his great enterprise. 
 
 When his famous communication was made to the Gun 
 Club, the captain's wrath passed all bounds; with his in- 
 tense jealousy was mingled a feeling of absolute im- 
 potence. How was he to invent anything to beat this 
 900-feet Columbiad? What armor-plate could ever resist 
 
56 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOJfT. 
 
 a projectile of 30,000 pounds weight? Overwhelmed at 
 first nnder th^s violent shock, he by and by recovered 
 himself, and resolved to crush the proposal by the weight 
 of his arguments. 
 
 He then violently attacked the labors of the Gun Club, 
 published a number of letters in the newspapers, endeav- 
 ored to prove Barbicane ignorant of the first principles of 
 gunnery. He maintained that it was absolutely impossi- 
 ble to impress upon any body whatever a velocity of 
 12,000 yards per second ; that even with such a velocity a 
 projectile of such a weight could not transcend the limits 
 of the earth's atmosphere. Further still, even regarding 
 the velocity to be acquired, and granting it to be suf- 
 ficient, the shell could not resist the pressure of the gas 
 developed by the ignition of 1,600,000 pounds of powder; 
 and supposing it to resist that pressure, it would be the 
 less able to support that temperature; it would melton 
 quitting the Columbiad, and fall back in a red-hot shower 
 upon the heads of the imprudent spectators. 
 
 Barbicane continued his work without regarding these 
 attacks. 
 
 Nicholl then took up the question in its other aspects. 
 Without touching upon its uselessness in all points of 
 view, he regarded the experiment as fraught with extreme 
 danger, both to the citizens, who might sanction by their 
 presence so reprehensible a spectacle, and also to the 
 towns in the neighborhood of this deplorable cannon. He 
 also observed that if the projectile did not succeed in 
 reaching its destination (a result absolutely impossible), it 
 must inevitably fall back upon the earth, and that the 
 shock of such a mass, multiplied by the square of its 
 velocity, would seriously endanger every point of the 
 globe. Under the circumstances, therefore, and without 
 interfering with the rights of free citizens, it was a case 
 for the intervention of Government, which ought not to 
 
ONE ENEMY. 57 
 
 endanger the^ safety of all for the pleasnre of one Indi- 
 vid nal. 
 
 Spite of all his arguments, however, Captain NiohoU 
 remained alone in his opinion. Nobody listened to him, 
 and he did not saoceed in alienating a single admirer 
 from the president of the Gun Club. The latter did not 
 even take the pains to refute the arguments of his rival. 
 
 Nicholl, driven into his last entrenchments, and not 
 ahle to fight personally in the cause, resolved to fight with 
 money. He published, therefore, in the Kichmond In- 
 quirer a series of wagers, conceived in these terms, and 
 on an increasing scale: ii 
 
 No. 1 ($1,000).— That the necessary funds for the ex- 
 periment of the Grun Clnb will not be forthcbm- 
 ing. 
 No. 3 ($2,000). — That the operation of casting a can- 
 non of 900 feet is impracticable, and cannot pos- 
 sibly succeed. 
 No. 3 ($3,000).— That it is impossible to load the 
 Oolumbiad, and that the pyroxyle will take fire 
 spontaneously under the pressure of the pro^ 
 jectile. 
 No. 4 ($4,000).— That the Columbiad will burst at th* 
 
 first fire. 
 No. 5 ($5j000).T-That the shot will not travel farther 
 than six miles, and that it will fall back again a 
 few seconds after its discharge. 
 It was an important sum, therefore, which the captain 
 risked in his invincible obstinacy. He had no less than 
 $15,000 at stake. 
 
 Notwithstanding the importance of the challenge, on the 
 19th of May he i;eceived a sealed packet containing the 
 following superbly laconic reply : 
 
 "Baltimoke, October 19. 
 "Done. 
 
 "Basbicanb." 
 
58 FBOM TEE EABTE TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTBB XI. 
 
 FLORIDA AND TEXAS. 
 
 One qnestion yet remained to be decided; it was neces- 
 sary to choose a favorable spot for the experiment. Ac- 
 cording to the advice of the Observatory of Cambridge, 
 the gun mnst be fired perpendicularly to the plane of the 
 horizon, that is td say, toward the zeoitb. Now the 
 moon does not traverse the zenith, except in places sit- 
 uated between 0° and 28° of latitude. It became, then, 
 necessary to determine exactly that spot on the globe 
 where the immense Columbiad should be cast. 
 
 On the 20th of October, at a general meeting of the 
 Gun Club, Barbicane produced a magnificent map of the 
 United States. "Gentlemen," said he, in opening the 
 discussion, "I presume that we are all agreed that this 
 experiment cannot and ought not to be tried anywhere 
 but within the limits of the soil of the Union. Now, by 
 good fortune, certain frontiers of the United States ex- 
 tend downward as far as the 28th parallel of the north 
 latitude. If you will cast your eye over this map, you 
 will see that we have at our disposal the whole of the 
 southern portion of Texas and Florida." 
 
 It was finally agreed, then, that the Columbiad must 
 be cast on the soil of either Texas or Florida. The re- 
 suit, however, of this decision was to create a rivalry en- 
 tirely without precedent between the different towns of 
 these two States. 
 
 The 28th parallel, on reaching the American coast, 
 traverses the peninsula of Florida, dividing it into two 
 
FLORIDA AND TEXAS. 59 
 
 nearly equal portions. Then, plunging into the Gulf of 
 Mexico, it subtends the arc formed by the coast of 
 Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana; then skirting 
 Texas, off ■which it cuta an angle, it continues its course 
 over Mexico, crosses the Sonora, Old California, and 
 loses itself in the Pacific Ocean. It was, therefore, only 
 those portions of Texas and Florida which were situated 
 below this parallel which came within the prescribed con- 
 ditions of latitude. 
 
 Florida, in its southern part, reckons no cities of im- 
 portance; it is simply studded with forts raised against 
 the roving Indians. One solitary town, Tampa Town, 
 was able to put in a claim in favor of its situation. 
 
 In Texas, on the contrary, the towns are much more 
 numerous and important. Corpus Christi, in the county 
 of Nueces, and all the cities situated on the Eio Bravo, 
 Laredo, Comalites, San Ignacio on the Web, Eio Grande 
 City on the Starr, Edinburgh in the Hidalgo, Santa Eita, 
 Elpanda, Brownsville in the Cameron, formed an impos- 
 ing league against the pretensions of Florida. So, 
 scarcely was the decision known, when the Texan and 
 Floridan deputies arrived at Baltimore in an incredibly 
 short space of time. From that very moment President 
 Barbicane and the influential members of the Gun Club 
 were besieged day and night by formidable claims. If 
 seven cities of Greece contended for the honor of having 
 given birth to a Homer, here were two entire States 
 threatening to come to blows about the question of a 
 cannon. 
 
 The rival parties promenaded the streets with arms in 
 their hands; and at every occoasion of their meeting a 
 collision was to be apprehended which might have been 
 attended with disastrous results. Happily the prudence 
 and address of President Barbicane averted the danger. 
 Those personal demonstrations found a division in the 
 
60 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOm 
 
 newspapers of the different States. The New York 
 Herald and the Tribune supported Texas, while the Times 
 and the American Review espoused the cause of the 
 Floridan deputies. The members of the Gun Club conld 
 not decide to which to give the preference. 
 
 Texas produced its array of twenty-six counties; 
 Florida replied that twelve counties were better than 
 twenty-six in a country only one-sixth part of the size. 
 
 Texas plumed itself upon its 330,000 natives; Florida, 
 with a far smaller territory, boasted of being much more 
 densely populated with 56,000. 
 
 The Texans, through the columns of the Herald, 
 claimed that some regard should be had to a State which 
 grew the best cotton in all America, produced the best 
 green oak for the service of the navy, and contained the 
 finest oil, besides iron mines, in which the yield was fifty 
 per cent, of pure metal. 
 
 To 'this the American Review replied that the soil of 
 Florida, although not equally rich, afforded the best con- 
 ditions for the moulding and casting of the Columbiad, 
 consisting as it did of sand and argillaceous earth. 
 
 "That may be all very well," replied the Texans; "but 
 you must first get to this country. Now the communica- 
 tions with Florida are difficult, while the coast of Texas 
 offers the bay of Galveston, which possesses a circum- 
 ference of fourteen leagues, and is capable of containing 
 the navies of the entire world!" 
 
 "A pretty notion truly," replied the papers in the in- 
 terest of Florida, "that of Galveston Bay helow the 29iA 
 parallel ! Have we not got the bay of Espiritn Santo, 
 opening precisely upon the %%th degree, and by which 
 ehips.can reach Tampa Town by direct route?" 
 
 "A fifne bay! half choked with sand!" 
 
 "Choked yourselves!" returned the others. 
 
 Thus the war went on for several days, when Florida 
 
FLORIDA AND TEXA8.\ 61 
 
 endeavored to draw her adversary away on to fresh 
 ground; and one morning the Times hinted that, the en- 
 terprise being essentially American, it ought not to be 
 attempted upon other than purely American territory. 
 
 To these words Texas retorted, "American! are we not 
 as much so as you? Were not Texas and Florida both 
 incorporated into the Union in 1845?" 
 
 "Undoubtedly," replied the Times; "but we have be- 
 longed to the Americans ever since 1830." 
 
 "Yes!" returned the Tribune; "after having been 
 Spaniards or English for two hundred years, you were 
 sold to the United States for five million dollars!" 
 
 "Well! and why need we blush for that? Was not 
 Louisiana bought from Napoleon in 1803 at the price of 
 sixteen million dollars?" 
 
 "Scandalous!" roared the Texan deputies. "A 
 wretched little strip of country like Florida to dare to 
 compare itself to Texas, who, in place of selling herself, 
 asserted her own independence, drove out the Mexicans 
 in March 3, 1846^ and declared herself a federal republic 
 after the victory gained by Samuel Houston, on the banks 
 of the San Jacinto, over the troops of Santa Anna! — a 
 country, in fine, which voluntarily annexed itself to th« 
 United States of America!" 
 
 "Yes; because it was afraid of the Mexicans!" replied 
 Florida. 
 
 "Afraid !" From this moment the state of things be- 
 came intolerable. A sanguinary encounter seemed daily 
 imminent between the two parties in the streets of Balti- 
 more. It became , necessary to keep an eye upon the 
 deputies. 
 
 President Barbicane knew not which way to look. 
 Notes, documents, letters full of menaces showered down 
 upon his house. Which side ought he to take? As re- 
 garded the appropriation of the soil, the facility of com- 
 
83 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 mnnication, the rapidity of transport, the claims of both 
 States were evenly balanced. As for political preposses- 
 sions, they had nothing to do with the qnestion. 
 
 This dead block had existed for some little time, when 
 Barbicane resolved to get rid of it at once. He called a 
 meeting of his colleagues, and laid before them a propo- 
 sition which, it will be seen, was profoundly sagacious. 
 
 "On carefully considering," he said, "what is going on 
 now between Florida and Texas, it is clear that the same 
 diflBculties will recur with all the towns of the favored 
 State. The rivalry will descend from State to city, and so 
 on downward; Now Texas possesses eleven towns within 
 the prescribed conditions, which will further dispute th« 
 honor and create us new enemies, while Florida has only 
 one. I go in, therefore, for Florida and Tampa Town," 
 
 This decision, on being made, known, utterly crushed 
 the Texan deputies. Seized with an indescribable fury, 
 they addressed threatening letters to the different mem- 
 bers of the Gun Club by name. The magistrates had but 
 one course to take, and they took it. They chartered a 
 special train, forced the Texans into it whether they 
 would or no; and they quitted the city with a speed of 
 thirty miles an hour. 
 
 Quickly, however, as they were despatched, they fonnd 
 time to hurl one last and bitter sarcasm at their adver- 
 saries. 
 
 Alluding to the extent of Florida, a mere peninsula 
 confined between two seas, they pretended that it could 
 never sustain the shock of the discharge, and that it 
 would "bust up" at the very first shot. 
 
 "Very well, let it bust up!" replied the Floridans^ 
 with a brevity of the days of ancient Sparta. 
 
UEBI ET OBBI. 63 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 UEBI ET OEBI. , 
 
 The astronomical, mechanical, and topographical diflB- 
 culties resolved, finally came the question of finance. 
 The sum required was far too great for any individual, 
 or even any single State, to provide the requisite millions. 
 
 President Barbicane undertook, despite of the matter 
 being a purely American affair, to render it one of univer- 
 sal interest, and to request the financial co-operation of 
 all peoples. It was, he maintained, the right and duty 
 of the whole earth to interfere in the affairs of its satellite. 
 The subscription opened at Baltimore^extended properly 
 to the whole world — Drhi et orbi. 
 
 This subscription was successful beyond all expectation; 
 notwithstanding that it was a question not of lending 
 but of giving the money. It was a purely disinterested 
 operation in the strictest sense of the term, and offered 
 not the slightest chance of profit. 
 
 The effect, however, of Barbicane's communication was 
 not confined to the frontiers of he United States; it 
 crossed the Atlantic and Pacific, invading simultaneously 
 Asia and Europe, Africa and Oceani''-i. The observatories 
 of the Union placed themselves in imm diate communica- 
 tion with those of foreign countries. Some, such as those 
 of Paris, Petersburg, Berlin, Stockhol- ., Hamburg, Malta, 
 Lisbon, Benares, Madras, and others, transmitted their 
 good wishes; the rest maintained a prudent silence, 
 quietly awaiting the result. As for the observatory at 
 Greenwich, seconded as it was by the twenty -two astro- 
 
fi4 FROM THIS EARTH TO THE MOOS'. 
 
 nomical establishments of Great Britain, it spoke plainly 
 enough. It boldly denied the possibility of snocess, and 
 pronounced in favor of the theories of Captain Nicholl. 
 But this was nothing more than mere English jealousy. 
 
 On the 8th of October President Barbicane published a 
 manifesto full of enthusiasm, in which he made an appeal 
 to "all persons of good will upon the face of the earth." 
 This document, translated into all languages, met with 
 immense success. 
 
 Subscription lists were opened in all the principal cities 
 of the Union, with a central oflSce at the Baltimore Bank, 
 9 Baltimore Street. 
 
 In addition, subscriptions were received at the follow- 
 ing banks in the difEerent states of the two continents: 
 
 At Vienna, with S. M. de Eothschild. 
 
 At Petersburg, Stieglitz and Co. 
 
 At Paris, The Credit Mobilier. 
 
 At Stockholm, Tottie and Arfuredson. 
 
 At London, N. M. Bothschild and Son. 
 
 At Turin, Ardonin and Co. 
 
 At Berlin, Mendelssohn. 
 
 At Geneva, Lombard, Odier and Co. 
 
 At Constantinople, The Ottoman Bank. 
 
 At Brussels, J. Lambert. 
 
 At Madrid, Daniel Weisweller. 
 
 At Amsterdam, Netherlands Credit Co. 
 
 At Some, Torlonia and Co. 
 
 At Lisbon, Lecesne. 
 
 At Copenhagen, Private Bank. 
 
 At Eio Janeiro, Private Bank. 
 
 At Montevideo, Private Bank. 
 
 At Valparaiso and Lima, Thos. la Chambre and Co. 
 
 At Mexico, Martin Daran and Co. 
 Three days after the manifesto of President Barbicane 
 $4,000,000 were paid into the different towns of the 
 
UBBI ET OBBI. 65 
 
 tJnion. With such a balance the Gun Clnb might begin 
 operations at once. But some days later advices were 
 received to the effect that the foreign subscriptions were 
 being eagerly taken up. Certain countries distinguished 
 themselves by their liberality; others untied their purse- 
 strings with less facility — matter of temperament. Fig- 
 ures are, however, more eloquent than words, and here is 
 the ofl&cial statement of the sums which were paid in to 
 the credit of the Gun Club at the close of the subscrip- 
 tion. 
 
 Russia paid in as her contingent the enormous sum of 
 368,733 roubles. No one need be surprised at this^ who 
 bears in mind the scientific taste of the Bussjans, and the 
 impetus which they have given to astronomical studies — 
 thanks to their numerous observatories. 
 
 France began by deriding the pretensions of the Ameri- 
 cans. The moon served as a pretext for a thousand stale 
 puns and a score of ballads, in which bad taste contested 
 the palm with ignorance. But as formerly the French 
 paid before singing, so now they paid after having had 
 their laugh, and they subscribed for a sum of 1,253,930 
 francs. At that price they had a right to enjoy them- 
 selves a little. 
 
 Austria showed herself generous in the midst of her 
 financial crisis. Her public contributions amounted to 
 the sum of 216,000 florins — a perfect godsend. 
 
 Fifty-two thousand rix-dollars were the remittance of 
 Sweden and Norway; the amount is large for the country, 
 but it would undoubtedly have been considerably in- 
 creased had the subscription been opened in Christiania' 
 simultaneously with that at Stockholm. For some reason 
 or other the Norwegians do not like to send their money 
 to Sweden. 
 
 Prussia, by a remittance of 250,000 thalers, testified 
 her high approval of the enterprise. 
 
C6 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 Turkey behaved 'generously; but she had a personal 
 interest in the matter. The moon, in fact, regulates th« 
 cycle of her years and her fast of Bamadan. She could 
 not do less than give l,3'i'3,640 piastres; andahe'gava 
 them with an eagerness which denoted, however, some 
 pressure on the part of the government. 
 
 Belgium distinguished herself among the second-rate 
 states by a grant of 513,00 'rancs — about two centimes 
 per head of her popnlation. 
 
 Holland and her colonicb irterested themselves to the 
 extent of 110,000 florins, '•nl; demanding an allowance of 
 five per cent, discount for payin_ ready money. 
 
 Denmark, a little contracted in territory, gave never- 
 theless 9,000 ducats, proving her love for scientific ex- 
 periments. 
 
 The Germanic Confederation pledged itself to 34,285 
 florins. It was impossible to ask for more; besides, they 
 would not have given it. 
 
 Though very much crippled, Italy found 200,000 lire 
 in the pockets of her people. If she had had Venetia she 
 would have done better ; but she had not. 
 
 The States of the Church thought that they could not 
 send less than 7,040 Eoman crowns; and Portugal carried 
 her devotion to science as far as 30,000 cruzados. It wai 
 the widow's mite — eighty-six piastres; but self-consti- 
 tuted empires are always rather short of money. 
 
 Two hundred and fifty-seven francs, this was the 
 modest contribution of Switzerland to the American 
 \work. One must freely admit that she did not see the 
 practical side of the matter. It did not seem to her that 
 the mere despatch of a sh6t to the moon could possibly 
 establish any relation of affairs with her; and it did not 
 seem prudent to her to embark her capital in so hazardous 
 an enterprise. After all, perhaps she was right. 
 
 A? to Spain, she could not scrape together more than 
 
UBBI ET OREL 67 
 
 110 reals. She gave as an excuse that she had her rail- 
 ways to finish. The truth is, that science is not favorably 
 regarded in that country, it is still in a backward state; 
 and, moreover, certain Spaniards, not by any means the 
 least educated, did not form a correct estimate of the 
 bulk of the projectile compared with that of the moon. 
 They feared that it would disturb'the established order of 
 things. In that case it were better to keep aloof; which 
 they did to the tune of some reals. 
 
 There remained but England ; and we know the con- 
 temptuous antipathy with which she received Barbicane's 
 proposition. The English have but one soul for the 
 whole twenty-six millions of inhabitants which Great 
 Britain contains. They hinted that the enterprise of the 
 Gun Club was contrary to the "principle o* non-interven- 
 tion." And they did not subscribe a single farthing. 
 
 At this intimation the Gun Club merely shrugged its 
 shoulders and returned to its great work. When South 
 America, that is to say, Peru, Chili, Brazil, the provinces 
 of La Plata and Colombia, had poured forth their quota 
 into their hands, the sum of $300,000, it found itself in 
 possession of a considerable capital, of which the follow- 
 ing is a statement: 
 
 United States subscriptions, . . $4,000,000 
 
 Foreign subscriptions, . . . 1,446,675 
 
 Total, . . . $5,446,675 
 
 Such was the sum which the public poured into thcJ* 
 treasury of the Gun Club. 
 
 Let no one be surprised at the vastness of the amount. 
 The work of casting, boring, masonry, the transport of 
 workmen, their establishment in an almost uninhabited 
 country, the construction of furnaces and workshops, the 
 plant, the powder, the projectile, and incidental expenses, 
 would, according to the estimates, absorb nearly the whole. 
 
68 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON: 
 
 Certain cannon-shots in the Federal war cost one tboa< 
 sand dollars apiece. This one of President Barhicane, 
 nniqne in the annals of gunnery, might well cost five 
 thousand times more. 
 
 On the 30th of October a contract was entered into with 
 the manufactory at Coldspring, near New York, which 
 during the war had furnished the largest Parrott cast- 
 iron guns. It was stipulated between the contracting 
 parties that the manufactory of Coldspring should en- 
 gage to transport to Tampa Town, in southern Florida, 
 the necessary materials for casting the Columbiad. The 
 work was bound to be c mpleted at latest by the 15th of 
 October following, and the cannon delivered in good con- 
 dition under penalty of a forfeit of one hundred dollars a 
 day to the moment when the moon should again present 
 herself under the same conditions — that is to say, in 
 eighteen years and eleven days. 
 
 The engagement of the workmen, their pay, and all 
 the necessary details of the work, devolved upon the Cold- 
 spring Company. 
 
 This contract, executed in duplicate, was signed by 
 Barbicane, president of the Gun Club, of the one part, 
 and T. Murphison, director of the Coldspring manufat- 
 tory, of the other, who thus executed the deed on behalf 
 of their respective principals. 
 
STONES HILL. 69 
 
 OHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 STONES HILL. 
 
 When the decision was arrived at by the Gnn Clnb, to 
 the disparagement of Texas, every one in America, where 
 reading is an universal acquirement, set to work to study 
 the geography of Florida, Never before had there been 
 such a sale for works like "Bertram's Travels in Florida," 
 "Eoman's Natural History of East and West Florida," 
 "William's Territory of Florida," and "Oleland on the 
 Cultivation of the Sugar-Oane in Florida." It became 
 necessary to issue fresh editions of these works. 
 
 Barbicane had something better to do than to read. 
 He desired to see things with his own eyes, and to mark 
 the exact position of the proposed gun. So, without a 
 moment's loss of time, he placed at the disposal of the 
 Cambridge Observatory the funds necessary for, the con- 
 struction of a telescope, and entered into negotiations 
 with the house of Breadwill and Co., of Albany, for the 
 construction of an aluminium projectile of the require! 
 size. He then quitted Baltimore, accompanied by J. T. 
 Maston, Major Elphinstone^ and the manager of the Cold- 
 spring factory. 
 
 On the following day, the four fellow-travelers arrived 
 at New Orleans. There they immediately embarked on 
 board the Tampico, a despatch-boat belonging to the 
 Federal navy, which the government had placed at their 
 disposal; and, getting up steam, the banks of the Louisi- 
 ana speedily disappeared from sight. 
 
 The passage was not long. Two days after starting, 
 
70 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 the Tampico, haviug made four hundred and eighty 
 miles, came in sight of the coast of Florida. On a nearer 
 approach Barbicane found himself in view of a low, flat 
 country of somewhat barren aspect. After coasting along 
 a series of creeks abounding in lobsters and oysters, the 
 Tampico entered the bay of Espiritu Santo, where she 
 finally anchored in a small natural harbor, formed by the 
 embouchure of the Eiver Hillisborough, at seven p.m., 
 on the 22A of October. 
 
 Our four passengers disembarked at once. "Gentle- 
 men," said Barbicane, "we have no time to lose; to- 
 morrow we must obtain horses, and proceed to reconnoitei 
 the country." 
 
 Barbicane had scarcely set his foot on shore when three 
 thousand of the inhabitants of Tampa Town came forth 
 to meet him, an honor due to the president who had 
 signalized their country by his choice. 
 
 Declining, however, every kind of ovation, Barbicane 
 ensconced himself in a room of the Franklin Hotel. 
 
 On the morrow some of those small horses of the 
 Spanish breed, full of vigor and of fire, stood snorting 
 under his windows; but instead of four steeds, here were 
 fifty, together with their riders. Barbicane descended 
 with his three fellow-travelers; and much astonished were 
 they all to find themselves in the midst of such a caval- 
 cade. He remarked that every horseman carried a car- 
 bine slug across his shoulders and pistols in his holsters. 
 
 On expressing his surprise at these preparations, he, 
 was speedily enlightened by a young Floridan, who quietly 
 said : 
 
 "Sir, there are Seminoles there." 
 
 "What do you mean by Seminoles?" 
 
 "Savages who scour the prairies. We thought it best, 
 therefore, to escort you on your road." 
 
 "Pooh!" cried J. T. Maston, mounting his steed. 
 
STONES HILL. 71 
 
 "All right," said the Moridan; "bnt it is true enough, 
 neyertheless. " 
 
 "Gentlemen," answered Barbicane, "I thank you for 
 your kind attention; but it is time to be off." 
 
 It was five A.M. when Barbicane and his party, quitting 
 Tampa Town, made their way along the coast in the 
 direction of Alifia Creek. This little river falls into 
 Hillisbornugh Bay twelve miles above Tampa, Town.. 
 Barbicane and his escort coasted along its right bank to 
 the eastward. Soon the waves of the bay disappeared 
 behind a bend of rising ground, and the Ploridan "cham- 
 pagne" alone offered itself to view. 
 
 Florida, discovered on Palm .Sunday, in 1513, by Juan 
 Ponce de Leon, was originally named Pascha Florida. It 
 little deserved that designation, with its dry and parched 
 coasts. But after some few miles of tract the nature of 
 the soil gradually changes and the country shows itself 
 worthy of the name. Cultivated plains soon appear, 
 where are united all the productions of the northern and 
 tropical floras, terminating in prairies abounding with 
 pineapples and yams, tobacco, rice, cotton-plants, and 
 sugar-canes, which extend beyond reach of sight, flinging 
 their riches broadcast with careless prodigality. 
 
 Barbicane appeared highly pleased on observing the 
 progressive elevation of the land; and in answer to a 
 question of J. T. Maston, replied: 
 
 "My worthy friend, we cannot do better than sink our 
 Columbiad in these high grounds." 
 
 "To get nearer to the moon, perhaps?" said the secre- 
 tary of the Gun Club. 
 
 "Not exactly," replied Barbicane, smiling; "do you 
 not see that among these elevated plateaus we shall have 
 a much easier work of it? No struggles with the waiter- 
 springs, which will save us long and expensive tubings; 
 and we shall be working^ in daylight instead of down a 
 
73 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 deep and narrow well. Onr business, then, is to open onr 
 trenches upon ground some hundreds of yards aboTe the 
 level of the sea." 
 
 "You are right, sir," struck in Murchison, the en- 
 gineer; "and, if I mistake not, we shall ere long find a 
 suitable spot for our purpose." 
 
 *'I wish we were at the first stroke of the pickaxe," 
 said the president. 
 
 "And I wish we were at the last," cried J. T. Maston. 
 
 About ten a.m. the little band had crossed a dozen 
 miles. To fertile plains succeeded a region of forests. 
 There perfumes of the most varied kinds mingled together 
 , in tropical profusion. These almost impenetrable forests 
 were composed of pomegranates, orange-trees, citrons, 
 figs, olives, apricots, bananas, huge vines, whose blossoms 
 and fruits rivaled each other in color and perfume. Be- 
 neath the odorous shade of these magnificent trees flut- 
 tered and warbled a little world of brilliantly plumaged 
 birds. 
 
 J. T. Maston and the major could not repress their ad- 
 miration on finding themselves in presence of the glorious 
 beauties of this wealth of nature. President Barbicane, 
 however, less sensitive to these wonders, was in haste to 
 press forward; the very luxuriance of the country was 
 displeasing to him. They hastened onward, therefore, 
 and were compelled to ford several rivers, not without 
 danger, for they were infested with huge alligators from 
 fifteen to eighteen feet long. Maston courageously men- 
 aced them with his steel hook, but he only succeeded in 
 frightening some pelicans and teal, while tall flamingos 
 stared stupidly at the party. 
 
 At length these denizens of the swamps disappeared in 
 their turn; smaller trees became thinly scattered among 
 less dense thickets — a few isolated groups detached in 
 
STONES HILL. 73 
 
 the midst of endless plains over which ranged herds of 
 startled deer. 
 
 "At last," cried Barbicane, rising in his stirrups, "here 
 we are at the region of pines!" 
 
 "Yes! and of savages too," replied the major. 
 
 In fact, some Seminoles had just come in sight upon 
 the horizon; they rode violently bactveard and forvyard 
 on their ileet horses, brandishing their spears or discharg- 
 ing their guns with a dull report. These hostile demon- 
 strations, however, had no effect upon Barbicane and his 
 companions. 
 
 They were then occupying the center of a rocky plain, 
 which the sun scorched with its parching rays. This was 
 formed by a considerable elevation of the soil, which 
 seemed to offer to the members of the Gun Club all the con- 
 ditions requisite for the construction of their Columbiad. 
 
 "Halt!" said Barbicane, reining up. "Has this place 
 any local appellation?" 
 
 "It is called Stones Hill," replied one of the Ploridans. 
 
 Barbicane, without saying a word, dismounted, seized 
 his instruments, and began to note his position with ex- 
 treme exactness. The little band, drawn up in rear, 
 watched his proceedings in profound silence. 
 
 At this moment the sun passed the meridian. Barbi- 
 cane, after a few moments, rapidly wrote down the result 
 of his observations, and said: 
 
 "This spot is situated eighteen hundred feet above the 
 level of the sea, in 27° 7' N. lat. and 5° 7' W. long, of 
 the meridian of Washington. It appears to me by its 
 rocky and barren character to offer all the conditions req- 
 uisite for our experiment. On that plain will be raised 
 our magazines, workshops, furnaces, and workmen's huts; 
 and here, from this very spot," said he, stamping his 
 foot on the summit of Stones Hill, "hence shall our pro- 
 jectile take it flight into the regions of the Solar World." 
 
It PBOM THE EARTH, TO THE MOOHT. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIVo 
 
 PICKAXE AND TROWEL. 
 
 The same evening Barbicane and his companions r^ 
 turned to Tampa Town; and Murchison, the engineer, 
 re-embarked on board the Tampico for New Orleans. 
 His object was to enlist an army of workmen, and to col- 
 lect together the greater part of the materials. Tha 
 members of the Gun Clnb remained at Tampa Town, for 
 the purpose of setting on foot the preliminary works by 
 the aid of the people of the country. 
 
 Eight days after its departure, the Tampico returned 
 into the bay of Espirita Santo, with a whole flotilla of 
 steamboats. Murchison had succeeded in assembling to- 
 gether fifteen hundred artisans. Attracted by the high 
 pay and considerable bounties offered by the Gun Club, he 
 had enlisted a choice legion of stokers, iron-founders, lime- 
 burners, miners, brickmakers, and artisans of every trade, 
 without distinction of color. As many of these people 
 brought their families with them, their departure re- 
 sembled a perfect emigration. 
 
 On the 31st of October, at ten o'clock in the morning, 
 
 , the troop disembarked on the quays of Tampa Town; 
 
 and one may imagine the activity which pervaded that 
 
 little town, whose population was thus doubled in a single 
 
 day. 
 
 During the first few days they were busy discharging 
 the cargo brought by the flotilla, the machines, and the 
 rations, as well as a large number of huts constructed of 
 iron plates, separately pieced and numbered. At the 
 
PICKAXE AND TROWEL. 75 
 
 same period Barbioane laid the first sleepers of a railway 
 fifteen miles in length, intended to unite Stones Hill with 
 Tampa Town. On the first of November Barbican© 
 quitted Tampa Town with a detachment of workmen; 
 and on the following day the whole town of hnts was 
 erected round Stones Hill. This they enclosed with 
 palisades; and in respect of energy and activity, it might 
 •have shortly been mistaken for one of the great cities of 
 the Union. Everything was placed under a complete 
 system of discipline, and the works were commenced in 
 most perfect order. 
 
 The nature of the soil having been carefully examined, 
 by means of repeated borings, the work of excavation was 
 fixed for the 4:th of November. 
 
 On that day Barbicane called together his foremen and 
 addressed them as follows: "You are well aware, my 
 friends, of the object with which I have assembled yoa 
 together in this wild part of Florida. Our business is to 
 construct a cannon measuring nine feet in its interior 
 diameter, six feet thick, and with a stone revetment of 
 nineteen and a half feet in thickness. We have, there- 
 fore, a well of sixty feet in diameter to dig down to a 
 depth of nine hundred feet. This great work must be 
 completed within eight months, so that you have 2,543,- 
 400 cubic feet of earth to excavate in 255 days; that is to 
 say, in round numbers, 2,000 cubic feet per day. That 
 which would present no diflBcnlty to a thousand navvies 
 working in open country will be of course more trouble- 
 some in a comparatively confined space. However, the 
 thing must be done, and I reckon for its accomplishment 
 upon your courage as much as upon your skill." 
 
 At eight o'clock in the morning the first stroke of the 
 pickaxe was struck upon the soil of Florida; and from 
 that moment that prince of tools was ney^r igactive for 
 
76 FROM TEE EASTS TO THE MOON. 
 
 jne moment in the hands of the excavators. The gangs 
 relieved each other every three hours. 
 
 On the 4th of November fifty workmen commenced 
 Jigging, in the very center of the enclosed space on the 
 summit of Stones Hill, a circular hole sixty feet in diame- 
 ter. The pickaxe first struck upon a kind of black earth, 
 six inches in thickness, which was speedily disposed of. 
 To this earth succeeded two feet of fine sand, which was 
 carefully laid aside as being valuable for serving for the 
 casting of the inner mould. After the sand appeared 
 some compact white clay, resembling the chalk of Great 
 Britain, which extended down to a depth of four feet. 
 Then the iron of the picks struck upon the hard bed of the 
 soil; a kind of rock formed of petrified shells, very dry, 
 very solid, and which the picks could with diflBculty pene- 
 trate. At this point the excavation exhibited a depth of 
 six and a half feet and the work of the masonry was 
 begun. 
 
 At the bottom of this excavation they constructed a 
 wheel of oak, a kind of circle strongly bolted together, 
 and of immense strength. The center of this wooden 
 disc was hollowed out to a diameter equal to the exterior 
 diameter of the Columbiad. Upon this wheel rested the 
 first layers of the masonry, the stones of which were 
 bound together by hydraulic cement, with irresistible 
 tenacity. The workmen, after laying the stonee from 
 the circumference to the center, were thus enclosed 
 within a kind of well twenty-one feet in diameter. When 
 this work was accomplished, the miners resumed their 
 picks and cut away the rock from underneath the wheel 
 itself, taking care to support it as they advanced upon 
 blocks of great thickness. At every two feet which the 
 hole gained in depth they successively withdrew the 
 blocks. The wheel then sank little by little, and with it 
 the massive ring of masonry, on the upper bed of which 
 
PICKAXE AND TROWEL. 77 
 
 the masons labored incessantly, always reserving some 
 vent holes to permit the escape of gas during the opera- 
 tion of casting. 
 
 This kind of work required on the part of the work- 
 men extreme nicety and minute attention. More than 
 one, in digging underneath the wheel, was dangerously 
 injured by the splinters of Stone. But their ardor never> 
 relaxed, night or day. By day they worked under the 
 rays of the scorching sun; by night, under the gleam of 
 the electric light. The sounds of the picks against the 
 rock, the bursting of mines, the grinding of the machines, 
 the wreaths of smoke scattered through the air, traced 
 around Stones Hill a circle of terror which the herds of 
 buffaloes and the war parties of the Seminoles never ven- 
 tured to pass. Nevertheless, tbb works advanced regu- 
 larly, as the steam-cranes actively removed the rubbish. 
 Of unexpected obstacles there was little account; and with 
 regard to foreseen difficulties, they were speedily disposed 
 of. 
 
 At the expiration of the first month the well had at- 
 tained the depth assigned for that lapse of time, namely, 
 112 feet. This depth was doubled in December, and 
 trebled in January. 
 
 During the month of February the workmen had to con- 
 tend with a sheet of water which made its way right across 
 the outer soil. It became necessary to employ very pow- 
 erful pumps and compressed-air engines to drain it off, 
 so as to close up the orifice from whence it issued; just 
 as one stops a leak on board ship. They at last succeeded 
 in getting the upper hand of these untoward streams; 
 only, in consequence of the loosening of the soil, the 
 wheel partly gave way, and a slight partial settlement 
 ensued. This accident cost the life of several workmen. 
 
 No fresh occurrence thenceforward arrested the pro- 
 gress of the operation; and on the 10th of June, twenty 
 
78 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 days before the ejjpiration of the period fixed by Barbi< 
 cane, the well, lined throughont with its facing of stone, 
 had attained the depth of 900" feet. At the bottom the 
 masonry rested npon a massive block measuring thirty feot 
 in thickness, while on the upper portion it was level with 
 the surrounding soil. 
 
 President Barbicane and the members of the Gun Club 
 warmly congratulated their engineer Murchison: the 
 Cyclopean work had been accomplished with extraordinary 
 rapidity. 
 
 During these eight months Barbicane never quitted 
 Stones Hill for a single instant. Keeping ever close by 
 the work of excavation, he busied himself incessantly 
 with the welfare and health of his workpeople, and was 
 singularly fortunate in warding ofE the epidemics com- 
 mon to large communities of men, and so disastrous ia 
 those regions of the globe which are exposed to the in- 
 fluences of tropical climates. 
 
 Many workmen, it is true, paid with their lives for the 
 rashness inherent in these dangerous labors; but these 
 mishaps are impossible to be avoided, and they are classed 
 among details with which the Americans trouble them- 
 selves but little. They have in fact more regard for 
 human nature in general than for the individual in par- 
 ticular. 
 
 Nevertheless, Barbicane professed opposite principles 
 to these, and pot them in force at every opportunity. 
 S9, thanks to his care, his intelligence, his useful inter- 
 vention in all diflBculties, his prodigious and humane 
 sagacity, the average of accidents did not exceed that of 
 transatlantic countries, noted for their excessive precau- 
 tions — France, for instance, among others, where they 
 reckon about one accident for every two hundred thou- 
 sand francs of work. 
 
THE FETE OF TEE CASTING. 79 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE FETE OF THE CASTING. 
 
 DuEiNG the eight months which were employed in the 
 worJi of excavati6n the preparatory works of the casting 
 had been carried on simultaneously with extreme rapid- 
 ity. A stranger arriving at Stones Hill would have been 
 surprised at the spectacle offered to his Tiew. 
 
 At 600 yards from the well, and circularly arranged 
 around it as a central point, rose 1,200 reverberating 
 ovens, each six feet in diameter, and separated from each 
 other by an interval of three feet. The circumference 
 occupied by these 1,300 ovens presented a length of two 
 miles. Being all constructed on the same plan, each with 
 its high quadrangular chimney, they produced a most 
 singular efEect. 
 
 It will be r^meml|ered that on their third meeting the 
 committee had decided to use cast iron for the Columbiad, 
 and in particular the white description. This metal, in 
 fact, is the most tenacious, the most ductile, and the most 
 malleable, and consequently suitable for all moulding 
 operations; and when smelted with pit coal, is of superior 
 quality for all engineering works requiring great resist- 
 ing power, such as cannon, steam boilers, hydraulic 
 presses, and the like. 
 
 Oast iron, however, if siibjected to only one single 
 fusion, is rarely sufiBciently homogeneous; and it requires 
 a second fusion completely to refine it by dispossessing it 
 of its last earthly deposits. So before be,ing forwarded to 
 Tampa Town, the iron pre, molten in the great furnaces 
 
80 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 of Coldspring, and brongbt into contact with coal and 
 silicinm heated to a high temperature, was carbnrized and 
 transformed into cast iron. After this first operation, 
 the metal was sent on to Stones Hill. They had, how- 
 ever, to deal with 136,000,000 pounds of iron, a quantity 
 far too costly to send by railway. The cost of transport 
 would have been double that of material. It appeared 
 preferable to freight vessels at New York, and to load 
 them with the iron in bars. This, however, required not 
 less than sixty-eight vessels of 1,000 tons, a veritable fleet, 
 which, quitting New York on the 3d of May, on the 10th 
 of the same month ascended the Bay of Espiritu Santo, 
 and discharged their cargoes, without dues, in the port 
 at Tampa Town. Thence the iron was transported by 
 rail to Stones Hill, and about the middle of January this 
 enormous mass of metal was delivered at its destination. 
 
 It will be easily understood that 1,300 furnaces were 
 not too many to melt simultaneously these 60,000 tons of 
 iron. Each of these furnaces contained nearly 140,000 
 pounds weight of metal. They were all built after the 
 model of those which served for the casting of the Eod- 
 man gun; they were trapezoidal in shape, with a high 
 elliptical arch. These furnaces, constructed of fireprpof 
 brick, were especially adapted for burning pit coal, with a 
 flat bottom upon which the iron bars were laid. This 
 bottom, inclined at an angle of 25 degrees, allowed the 
 metal to flow into the receiving troughs; and the 1,200 
 converging trenches carried the molten metal down to 
 the central well. 
 
 The day following that on which the works of the 
 masonry and boring had been completed, Barbicane set to 
 work upon the central mould. His object now was to 
 raise within the center of the well, and with a coincident 
 axis, a cylinder 900 feet high, and nine feet in diameter, 
 which should exactly fill up the space reserved for the 
 
THE FETE OF THE CASTING. 81 
 
 bore of the Oolumbiad. This cylinder was composed of 
 a mixture of clay and sand, with the addition of a little 
 hay and straw. The space left between the mould and 
 the masonry was intended to be filled up by the molten 
 metal, which would thus form the walls six feet in thick- 
 ness. This cylinder, in order to maintain its equilibrium, 
 had to be bound by iron bands, and firmly fixed at cer- 
 tain intervals by cross-clamps fastened into the stone lin- 
 ing; after the castings these would be buried in the block 
 of metal, leaving no external projection. 
 
 This operation was completed on the 8th of July, and 
 the run of the metal was fixed for the following day. 
 
 "This feie of the casting will be a grand ceremony," 
 said J. T. Maston to his friend Barbicane. 
 
 "Undoubtedly," said Barbicane; "but it will not be a 
 public fete." 
 
 "What! will you not open the gates of the enclosure to 
 all comers?" 
 
 "I must be very careful, Maston. The casting of the 
 Columbiadis an extremely delicate, not to say a dangerous 
 operation^ and I should prefer its being done privately. 
 At the discharge of the projectile, a fSie if you like — till 
 then, no!" 
 
 The president was right. The operation involved un- 
 foreseen dangers, which a great influx of spectators would 
 have hindered him from averting. It was necessary to 
 preserve complete freedom of movement. No one was ad- 
 mitted within the enclosure except a delegation of mem- 
 bers of the Gun Club, who had made the voyage to Tampa 
 Town. Among these was the brisk Bilsby, Tom Hunter, 
 Coloael Blomsberry, Major Elphinstone, General Morgan, 
 and the rest of the lot to whom the casting of the Colnm- 
 biad was a matter of personal interest. J. T. Maston be- 
 came their cicerone. He omitted no point of detail; he 
 conducted them throughout the magazines, -workshops, 
 
82 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 throngh the midst of the engines, and compelled them to 
 visit the whole 1,200 furnaces one after the other. At 
 the end of the twelve-hundredth visit they were pretty 
 well knocked up. 
 
 The casting was to take place at twelve o'clock pre- 
 cisely. The previous evening each furnace had been 
 charged with 114,000 pounds weight of metal in bars dis- 
 "posed crossways to each other, so as to allow the hot air 
 to circulate freely between them. At daybreak the 
 1,200 chimneys vomited their torrents of flame into the 
 air, and the ground was agitated with dull tremblings. 
 As many pounds of metal as there were to cast, so many 
 pounds of coal were there to burn. Thus there were 
 68,000 tons of coal which projected in the face of the sun 
 a thick curtain of smoke. The heat soon became insup- 
 portable within the circle of furnaces, the rumbling of 
 which resembled the rolling of thunder. The powerful 
 ventilators added their continuous blasts and saturated 
 with oxygen the glowing plates. The operation, to bo 
 successful, required to be conducted with great rapidity. 
 On a signal given by a cannon-shot each furnace was to 
 give vent to the molten iron and completely to empty 
 itself. These arrangements made, foremen and workmen 
 waited the preconcerted moment with an impatience 
 -mingled with a certain amount of emotion. Not a soul 
 remained within the enclosure. Each superintendent 
 took his post by the aperture of the run. 
 
 Barbioane and his colleagues, perched on a neighboring 
 eminence, assisted at the operation. In front of them 
 was a piece of artillery ready to give fire on the signal 
 from the engineer. Some minutes before midday th« 
 first driblets of metal began to flow; the reservoirs filled 
 little by little; and, by the time that the whole melting 
 was completely accomplished, it was kept in abeyance for 
 
THE FETE OF TEE CASTING. 83 
 
 a few minutes in order to facilitate the separation of 
 foreign substances. 
 
 Twelve o'clock struck! A gunshot suddenly pealed forth 
 and shot its flame into the air. Twelve hundred melting- 
 troughs were simultaneously opened and twelve hundred 
 fiery serijents crept toward the central well, unrolling 
 their incandescent curves. There, down they plunged 
 with a terrific noise into a depth of 900 feet. It was an 
 exciting and a magnificent spectacle. The ground trem- 
 bled, while these molten waves, launching into the sky 
 their wreaths of smoke, evaporated the moisture of the 
 mould and hurled it upward through the vent-holes of 
 the stone lining in the form of dense vapor-clouds. These 
 artificial clouds unrolled their thick spirals to a height of 
 1,000 yards into the air. A savage, wandering somewhere 
 beyond the limits of the horizon, might have believed 
 that some new crater was forming in the bosom of Florida, 
 although there was neither any eruption, nor typhoon, 
 nor storm, nor struggle of the elements, nor any of those 
 terrible phenomena which nature is capable of producing. 
 No, it was man alone who had produced these reddish 
 vapors, these gigantic flames worthy of a volcano itself, 
 these tremendous vibrations resembling the shock of an 
 •arthquake, these reverberations rivaling those of hurri- 
 canes and storms; and it was his hand which precipitated 
 into an abyss, dug by himself, a whole Niagara of molten 
 metal! 
 
84 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOHT. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE OOLUMBIAD. 
 
 Had the casting succeeded? They were reduced to 
 mere conjecture. There was indeed everjireason to ex- 
 pect success, since the mould had absorbed the entire mass 
 of the molten metal; still some considerable time must 
 elapse before they could arrive at any certainty upon the 
 matter. 
 
 The patience of the members of the Gun Club was 
 sorely tried during this period of time. But they could 
 do nothing. J. T. Maston escaped roasting by a miracle. 
 Fifteen flays after the casting an immense column of smoke 
 was still rising in the open sky and the ground burned 
 the soles of the feet within a radius of two hundred feet 
 round the summit of Stones Hill. It was impossible to 
 approach nearer. All they could do was to wait with 
 what patience they might. 
 
 "Here we are at the 10th of August," exclaimed J. T. 
 Maston one morning, "only fonr months to the 1st of 
 December! We shall never be ready in time!" Barbi- 
 cane said nothing, but his silence covered serious irrita- 
 tion. 
 
 However, daily observations revealed a certain change 
 going on in the state of the ground. About the 15th of 
 August the vapors ejected had sensibly diminished in in- 
 tensity and thickness. Some days afterward the earth 
 exhaled only a slight puff of smoke, the last breath of 
 the monster enclosed within its circle of stone. Little by 
 little the belt of heat contracted, until on the 22d of An- 
 
THE COLUMBtAD. 85 
 
 gnst, Barbicane, his colleagues, and the engineer were en- 
 abled to set foot on the iron sheet which lay level upon the 
 summit of Stones Hill. 
 
 "At last!" exclaimed the president of the Gun Club, 
 with an immense sigh of relief. 
 
 The work was resumed the same day. They proceeded . 
 at once to extract the interior mould, for the purpose of 
 clearing out the boring of the piece. Pickaxes and bor- 
 ing irons were set to work without intermission. The 
 clayey and sandy soils had acquired extreme hardness 
 under the action of the heat; but, by the aid of the 
 machines, the rubbish on being dug out was rapidly carted 
 away on railway wagons; and such was the ardor of the 
 work, so persuasive the arguments of Barbicane's dollars, 
 that by the 3d of September all traces of the mould had 
 entirely disappeared. 
 
 Immediately the operation of boring was commenced; 
 and by the aid of powerful machines, a few weeks later, 
 the inner surface of the immense tube had been rendered 
 perfectly cylindrical, and the bore of the piece had ac- 
 quired a thorough polish. 
 
 At length, on the 22d of September, less than a twelve- 
 month after Barbicane's original proposition, the enor- 
 mous weapon, accurately bored, and exactly vertically 
 pointed, was ready for work. There was only the moon 
 now to wait for; and they were pretty sure that she would 
 not fail in the rendezvous. 
 
 The ecstasy of J. T. Maston knew no bounds, and he 
 narrowly escaped a frightful fall while staring down th^ 
 tube. But for the strong hand of Colonel Blomsberry, 
 the worthy secretary, like a modern Erostratns, would 
 have found his death in the depths of the Columbiad. 
 
 The cannon was then finished ; there was no possible 
 doubt as to its perfect completion. So, on the 6th of 
 October, Captain NichoU opened an account between 
 
86 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 himself and President Barbicane, in which he debited 
 himself to the latter in the snm of two thousand dollars. 
 One may believe that the captain's wrath was increased 
 to its highest point, and must have made him seriously ill. 
 However, he had still three bets of three, four, and five 
 thousand dollars, respectively; and if he gained two out 
 of these, his position would not be very bad. But the 
 money question did not enter into his calculations; it was 
 the success of his rival in casting a cannon against which 
 iron plates sixty feet thick would have been ineffectual, 
 that dealt him a terrible blow. 
 
 After the 23d of September the enclosure of Stones 
 Hill was thrown open to the public; and it will be easily 
 imagined what was the concourse of visitors to this spot! 
 There was an incessant .flow of people to and from Tampa 
 Town and the place, which resembled a procession, or 
 rather, in fact, a pilgrimage. 
 
 It was already clear to be seen that, on the day of the 
 experiment itself, the aggregate of spectators would be 
 counted by millions; for they were already arriving from 
 all parts of the earth upon this narrow strip of promontory. 
 Europe was emigrating to America. 
 
 TT^' to that time, however, it must be confessed, the 
 curiosity of the numerous comers was but scantily grati- 
 fied. Most had counted upon witnessing the spectacle of 
 the casting, and they were treated to nothing but smoke. 
 This was sorry food for hungry eyes; but Barbicane 
 would admit no one to that operation. Then ensued 
 grumbling, discontent, murmurs; they blamed the pres- 
 ident, taxed him with dictatorial conduct. His pro- 
 ceedings were declared "un-American." There was very 
 nearly a riot round Stones Hill; but Barbicane remained 
 inflexible. When, however, the Columbiad was entirely 
 finished, this state of closed doors could no longer bo 
 maintained; besides it would have been bad taste, and 
 
THE COLUMBIAD. 87 
 
 even imprudence, to affront the public feeling. Barbi- 
 cane, therefore, opened the enclosure to all comers; bnt, 
 trne to his practical disposition, he determined to coin 
 money out of the! public curiosity. 
 
 It was something, indeed, to be enabled to contemplate 
 this immense Columbiad ; but to descend into its depths, 
 this seemed to the Americans the ne plus ultra of earthly 
 felicity. Consequently, there was not one curious spec- 
 tator who was not willing to give himself the treat of 
 visiting the interior of this metallic abyss. Baskets sus- 
 pended from steam-cranes permitted them to satisfy their 
 curiosity. There was a perfectmania. Women, children, 
 old men,' all made it a point of duty to penetrate the 
 mysteries of the colossal gun. The fare for the descent 
 was fixed at five dollars per head; and, despite this high 
 charge, during the two months which preceded the ex- 
 periment, the influx of visitors enabled the Gun Club 
 to pocket nearly five hundred thousand dollars! 
 
 It is needless to say that the first visitors of the Colum- 
 biad were the members of the Gun Club. This privilege 
 was justly reserved for that illustrious body. The cere- 
 mony took place on the 25th of September. A basket of 
 honor took down the president, J. T. Maston, Major 
 Elphinstone, General Morgan, Colonel Blomsberry, and 
 other members of the 9lub, to the number of ten in all. 
 How hot it was at the bottom of that long tube of metal ! 
 They were half suffocated. But what delightl What 
 ecstasy! A table had been laid with six covers on the 
 massive stone which formed the bottom of the Columbiad, 
 and lighted by a jet of electric light resembling that of 
 day itself. Numerous exquisite dishes, which seemed to de- 
 scend from heaven, were placed successively before the 
 guests, and the richest wines of Prance flowed in profu- 
 sion during this splendid repast, served nine hundred 
 feet beneath the surface of the earth! 
 
88 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 The festival was animated, not to say somewhat noisy. 
 Toasts flew backward and forward. They drank to the 
 earth and to her satellite, to the Gnn Club, the Union, 
 the Moon, Diana, Phcebe, Selene, the "peaceful courier 
 of the night!" All the hurrahs, carried upward upon 
 the sonorous waves of the immense acoustic tube, arrived 
 with the sound of thunder at its mouth; and the multi- 
 tude ranged round Stones Hill heartily united their shouts 
 with those of the ten revelers hidden from view at the 
 bottom of the gigantic Columbiad. 
 
 J. T. Maston was no longer master of himself. Whether 
 he shouted or gesticulated, ate or drank most, would be a 
 difficult matter to determine. At all events, he would 
 not have given his place up for an empire, "not even if 
 the cannon — loaded, primed, and fired at that very mo- 
 ment — were to blow him in pieces into the planetary 
 worli^." 
 
A TELEaRAPHIO BI8PAT0H. 89 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 A TBLEGEAPHIC DISPATCH, 
 
 The great works undertaken by the Gun Club had now 
 virtually come to an end; and two months still remained 
 before the ddy for the discharge of the shot to the moon. 
 To the general impatience these two months appeared as 
 long as years! Hitherto the smallest details of the opera- 
 tion had been daily chronicled by. the journals, which the 
 public devoured with eager eyes. 
 
 Just at this moment a circumstance, the most unex- 
 pected, the most extraordinary and incredible, occurred 
 to rouse afresh their panting spirits, and to throw every 
 mind into a state of the most violent excitement. 
 
 One day, the 30th of September, at 3.47 p.m., a tele- 
 gram, transmitted by cable from Valentia (Ireland) to 
 Newfoundland and the American mainland, arrived at 
 the address of President Barbioane, 
 
 The president tore open the envelope, read the dis- 
 patch, and, despite his remarkable powers of self-control, 
 his lips turned pale and his eyes grew dim, on reading 
 the twenty words of this telegram. 
 
 Here is the text of the dispatch, which figures now in 
 the archives of the Gun Club: 
 
 "Peancb, Paris, 
 
 "30 September, 4 A.M. 
 "Barbicane, Tampa Town, Florida, United States. 
 "Substitute for your spherical shell a cylindro-conical 
 projectile. I shall go inside. Shall arrive by steamer 
 Atlanta. Michel Akdan." 
 
90 FROM THE EARTM TO TEE MOON. 
 
 OHAPTBE XVIII. 
 
 THE PASSENGEK OF THE ATIANTA. 
 
 If this astounding news, instead of flying throngh th* 
 electric wires, had simply arrived by post in the ordinary 
 sealed envelope, Barbicane would not have hesitated a 
 moment. He would have held his tongue about .it, both 
 as a measure of prudence, and in order not to have to 
 reconsider his plans. This telegram might be a cover for 
 some jest, especially as it came from a Frenchman. What 
 human being would ever have conceived the idea of such 
 a journey? and, if such a person really existed, he must 
 be an idiot, whom one would shut up in a lunatic ward, 
 rather than within the walls of the projectile. 
 
 The contents of the dispatch, however, speedily be- 
 came known; for the telegraphic officials possessed but 
 little discretion, and Michel Ardan's proposition ran at 
 once throughout the several States of the Union. Barb- 
 icane, had, therefore, no further motive for keeping 
 silence. Consequently, he called together such of his 
 colleagues as were at the moment in Tampa Town, and 
 without any expression of his own opinions simply read to 
 them the laconic text itself. It was received with every 
 possible variety of expressions of doubt, incredulity, and 
 derision from every one, with the exception of J. T. 
 Maston, who exclaimed, "It is grand idea, however!" 
 
 When Barbicane originally proposed to send a shot to 
 the moon every one looked upon the enterprise as simple 
 and practicable enough — a mere question of gunnery; 
 bat when a person, professing to be a reasonable being. 
 
T5E PAS8BNQEB OF THE ATLANTA. 91 
 
 offered to take passage within the projectile, the whole 
 thing becaifie a farce, or, in plainer language a humbug. 
 
 One question, however, remained. Did such a being 
 exist? This telegram flashed across the depths of the 
 Atlantic, the designation of the vessel on board which he 
 was to take his passage, the date assigned for his speedy 
 arrival, all combined to impart a certain character of 
 reality to the proposal. They must get some clearer 
 notion of the matter. Scattered groups of inquirers at 
 length condensed themselves into a compact crowd, which 
 made straight for the residence of President Barbicane. 
 That worthy individual was keeping quiet with the inten- 
 tion of watching events as they arose. But he had forgot- 
 ten to take into account the public impatience; and it 
 was with no pleasant countenance that he watched the 
 population of Tampa Town gathering under his windows. 
 The murmurs and vociferations below presently obliged 
 Lim to appear. He came forward, therefore, and on 
 silence being procured, a citizen put point-blank to him 
 the following question: "Is the person mentioned in 
 the telegram, under the name of Michel Ardan, on his 
 way here? Yes or no." 
 
 "Gentlemen," replied Barbicane, "I know no more 
 than yon do." 
 
 "We must know," roared the impatient voices. 
 
 "Time will show," calmly replied the president. 
 
 "Time has no business to keep a whole country in sus- 
 pense," "seplied the orator. "Have you altered ttie plana 
 of the projectile according to the request of the tele- 
 gram ?" 
 
 "Not yet, gentlemen; but you are right! we must have 
 better information to go by. The telegraph must com- 
 plete its information." 
 
 "To the telegraph !" roared the crowd. 
 
 Barbicane descended; and heading the immense as- 
 
92 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 semblage, led the way to the telegraph office. A few 
 minutes later a telegram was dispatched to the secretary 
 of the underwriters at Liverpool, requesting answers to 
 thfe following queries: 
 
 "About the ship Atlanta — when did she leave Europe? 
 Had she on board a Frenchman named Michel Ardan?" 
 
 Two hours afterward Barbicane received information 
 too exact to leave room for the smallest remaining doubt. 
 
 "The steamer Atlanta from Liverpool put to sea on the 
 3d of October, bound for Tampa Town, having on board 
 a Frenchman borne on the list of passengers by the name 
 of Michel Ardan.'' 
 
 That very evening he wrote to the house of Breadwill 
 and Co., requesting them to suspend the casting of the 
 projectile until the receipt of further orders. On the 
 20th of October, at nine a.m., the semaphores of the 
 Bahama Canal signaled a thick smoke on the horizon. 
 Two hours later a large steamer exchanged signals with 
 them. The name of the Atlanta flew at once over Tampa 
 Town. * At four of clock the English vessel entered the 
 Bay of Espiritu Santo. At five it crossed the passage of 
 Hillisborough Bay at full steam. At six she cast anchor 
 at Port Tampa, The anchor had scarcely caught the 
 sandy bottom when five hundred boats surrounded the 
 Atlanta, and the steamer was taken by assault. Barbi- 
 cane was the first to set foot on deck, and in a voice of 
 which he vainly tried to conceal the emotion, ca21»d 
 "Michel Ardan." 
 
 "Here!" replied an individual perched on the poop. 
 
 Barbicane, with arms crossed, looked fixedly at the 
 passenger of the Atlanta. 
 
 He was a man of about forty-two years of age, of large 
 build, but slightly round-shouldered. His massive head 
 momentarily shook a shock of reddish hair, which re- 
 sembled a lion's mane. His face was short with a broad 
 
THE PASSENGER OF TEE ATLANTA. 93 
 
 forehead, and furnished with a mustache as bristly as a 
 cat's, and little patches of yellowish whiskers upon full 
 cheeks. Bound, wildish eyes, slightly near-sighted, 
 completed a physiognomy essentially feline. His nose 
 was firmly shaped, his mouth particularly sweet in ex- 
 pression, high forehead, intelligent and furrowed with 
 wrinkles like a newly-plowed field. The body was power- 
 fully developed and firmly fixed upon long legs. Muscu- 
 lar arms, and a general air of decision gave him the ap- 
 pearance of a hardy, jolly companion. He was dressed in 
 a suit of ample dimensions, loose neckerchief, open shirt- 
 collar, disclosing a robust neck; his cnfEs were invariably 
 unbuttoned, through which appeared a pair of red hands. 
 
 On the bridge of the steamer, in the midst of the 
 crowd, he bustled to and fro, never still for a moment, 
 "dragging his anchors," as the sailors say, gesticulating, 
 making free with everybody, biting his nails with nervous 
 avidity. He was one of ' those originals which nature 
 sometimes invents in the freak of a moment, and of which 
 she then breaks the mould. 
 
 Among other peculiarities, this curiosity gave himself 
 out for a sublime ignoramus, "like Shakespeare," and 
 professed supreme contempt for all scientific men. Those 
 "fellows," as he called them, "are only fit to mark the 
 points, while we play the game," He was, in fact, a 
 thorough Bohemian, adventurous, but not an adventurer; 
 a hair-brained fellow, a kind of Icarus, only possessing 
 relays of wings. For the rest, he was ever in scrapes, 
 ending invariably by falling on his feet, like those little 
 pith figures which they sell for children's toys. In two 
 words, his motto was "I have my opinions," and the love 
 of the impossible con8titi;ited his ruling passion. 
 
 Snch was the passenger of the Atlanta, always excita- 
 ble, as if boiling under the action of some iuterj^al fire by 
 thb character of his physicaii o*gai}iz<iti«D If e^er two 
 
94. FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 individuals offered a striking contrast to each other, these 
 were certainly Michel Ardan and the Yankee Barbioane; 
 both, moreover, being equally enterprising and daring, 
 each in his own way. 
 
 The scrntiny which the president of the Gnn Clnb had 
 instituted regarding this new rival was quickly inter- 
 rupted by the shouts and hurrahs of the crowd. The cries 
 became at last so uproarious, and the popular enthusiasm 
 assumed so personal a form, that Michel Ardan, after having 
 shaken hands some thousands of times, at the imminent 
 risk of leaving his fingers behind him, was fain at last to 
 make a bolt for his cabin. 
 
 Barbicane followed him without uttering a word. 
 
 "You are Barbicane, I suppose?" said Michel Ardan, 
 in a tone of voice in which he would have addressed a 
 friend of twenty years' standing. 
 
 "Yes," replied- the president of the Gun Club. 
 
 "All right! how d'ye do, Barbicane? how are you get- 
 ting on — ^pretty well? chat's right." 
 
 "So," said Barbicane without further preliminary, 
 "you are quite determined to go." 
 
 "Quite decided." 
 
 "Nothing will stop you?" 
 
 "Nothing. Have you modified your projectile accord- 
 ing to my telegram." 
 
 "I waited for your arrival. But," asked Barbicane 
 again, "have you carefully reflected?" 
 
 "Keflected? have I any time to spare? I find an op- 
 portunity of making a tour in the moon, and I mean to 
 profit by it. There is the whole gist of the matter." 
 
 Barbicane looked hard at this man who spoke so lightly 
 of his project with such complete absence of anxiety. 
 "'But, at least,'* said he, ."you have some plans, some 
 means of carrying your project into execution?" 
 
 "Excellent, my dear Barbicane; only permit me to 
 
THE PAS8ENGEB OF TEE ATLANTA. 95 
 
 offer one remark: My -wish is to tell my story once for all, 
 to everybody, and then to have done with it; then there 
 will be no need for recapitulation. So, if yon have no 
 objection, assemble yonr friends, colleagues, the whole 
 town, all Florida, all America if you like, and to-morrow 
 I shall be ready to explain my plans and answer any ob- 
 jections whatever that may be advanced. You may rest 
 assured I shall wait without stirring. Will that suit 
 you?" 
 
 "All right," replied Barbicane. 
 
 So saying, the president left the cabin and informed the 
 crowd of the proposal of Michel Ardan. His words were 
 received with clappings of hands and shouts of joy. They 
 had removed all diflBculties. To-morrow every one would 
 contemplate at his ease this European hero. However, 
 some of the spectators, more infatuated than the rest, 
 would not leave the deck of the Atlanta. They passed 
 the night on board. Among others J. T. Maston got his 
 hook fixed in the combing of the poop, and it pretty 
 nearly required the capstan to get it out again. 
 
 "He is a hero! a hero!" he cried, a theme of which he 
 was never tired of ringing the changes; "and we are only 
 like weak, silly women, compared with this European!" 
 
 As to the president, after having suggested to the 
 visitors it was time to retire, he re-entered the passenger's 
 cabin, and remained 1;here till the bell of the steamer 
 made it midnight. 
 
 But then the two rivals in popularity shook hands 
 heartily and parted on terms of intimate friendship. 
 
96 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTBE XIX. 
 
 A MOIfSTEE MEETING. 
 
 On the following day Barbicane, fearing that indis- 
 creet questions might be put to Michel Ardan, was de- 
 sirous of reducing the number of the audience to a few 
 of the initiated, his own colleagues for instance. He 
 might as well have tried to check the Falls of Niagara! 
 He was compelled, therefore, to give up the idea, and to 
 let his new friend run the chances of a public conference. 
 The place chosen for this monster meeting was a vast 
 plain situated in the rear of the town. In a few hours, 
 thanks to the help of the shipping in port, an immense 
 roofing of canvas was stretched over the parched prairie, 
 and protected it from the burning rays of the sun. There 
 three hundred thousand people braved for many hours 
 the stifling heat while awaiting the arrival of the French- 
 man. Of this crowd of spectators a first set could both 
 see and hear; a second set saw badly and heard nothing 
 at all; and as for the third, it could neither see nor hear 
 anything at all. At three o'clock Michel Ardan made 
 his appearance, accompanied by the principal members 
 of the Gun Club. He was supported on his right by 
 President Barbicane, and on his left by J. T. Maston, 
 more radiant than the midday sun, and nearly as ruddy. 
 Ardan mounted a platform, from the top of which his 
 view extended over a sea of black hats. 
 
 He exhibited not the slightest embarrassment; he was 
 just as gay, familiar, and pleasant as if he were at home. 
 To the hurrahs which greeted him be replied by a grace- 
 
A MONSTER MEETINO. 9? 
 
 fnl bow; then, waving his hand to request silence, he 
 spoke in perfectly correct English as follows : 
 
 "Gentlemen, despite the very hot weather I request 
 your patience for a short time while I offer some explana- 
 tions regarding the projects which seem to have so inter- 
 ested J -u. I am neither an orator nor a man of science, 
 and I had no idea of addressing you in puhlic; but my 
 friend Barbicane has told me that you would like to hear 
 me, and I am quite at your service. Listen to me, there- 
 fore, with your six hundred . thousand ears, and please to 
 excuse the faults of the speaker. Now pray do not for- 
 get that you see before you a perfect ignoramus whose 
 ignorance goes so far that he cannot even understand the 
 difficulties! It seemed to him that it was a matter quite 
 simple, natural, and easy to take one's place in a projec- 
 tile and start for the moon ! That journey must be un- 
 dertaken sooner or later; and, as for the mode 'of locomo- 
 tion adopted, it follows simply the law of progress. Man 
 began by walking on all-fours; then, one fine day, on two 
 feet; then in a carriage; then in a stage-coach; and lastly 
 by railway. Well, the projectile is the veJhicle of the 
 future, and the planets themselves are nothing else! 
 Now some of you, gentlemen, may imagine that the veloc- 
 ity we propose to impart to it is extravagant. It is noth- 
 ing of the kind. All the stars exceed it in rapidity, and 
 the earth herself is at this moment carrying us round the 
 sun at three times as rapid a rate, and yet she is a mere 
 lounger on the way compared with many others of the 
 planets! And her velocity is constantly decreasing. Is it 
 not evident, then, I ask you, that there will some day 
 appear velocities far greater than these, of which light or 
 electricity will probably be the mechanical agent? 
 
 "Yes, gentlemen," continued the orator, "in spite of 
 the opinions of certain narrow-minded people," who would 
 ghut up the human race upon this globe, as witeifl gonjo 
 
98 FBOM TEE EARTH TO TEE MOOIT. 
 
 magic circle which it must never outstep, we shall one 
 day travel to the moon, the planets, and the stars, with 
 tihe same facility, rapidity, and certainty as we now make 
 the voyage from Liverpool to New York! Distance is 
 but a relative expression, and must end by being reduced 
 to zero." 
 
 The assembly, strongly predisposed as they were in 
 favor of the French hero, were slightly staggered at this 
 bold theory. Michel Ardan perceived the fact. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he continued with a pleasant smile, "you 
 do not seem quite convinced. Very good! Let us reason 
 the matter out. Do yon know how long it would take 
 for an express train to reach the moon? Three hundred 
 days; no more! And what is that? The distance is no 
 inore than nine times the circumference of the earth; and 
 tjiere are no sailors or travelers, of even moderate activ- 
 ity, who have not made longer journeys than that in their 
 lifetime. And now consider that I shall be only ninety- 
 S^ven hours on my journey. Ah ! I see you are reckon- 
 ing that the moon is a long way off from the earth, and 
 that one must think twice before making the experiment. 
 \Yhat would you say, then, if we were talking of going to 
 Neptune, which revolves at a distance of more than two 
 tl^ousand seven hundred and twenty millions of miles 
 from ibhe sun! And yet what is that compared with the 
 distance of the fixed stars, some of which, such as Arc- 
 tu^us, are billions of miles distant from us? And then 
 you talk of the distance which separates the planets from 
 tl^esun! And there are people who affirm that such a 
 tiding as distance exists. Absurdity, folly, idiotic non- 
 seose! Would you know what I think of our own solar 
 universe? Shall I tell yon my theory? It is very simple! 
 In piy opinion the solar system is a solid homogeneous 
 body; the planets which compose it are in actual contact 
 yjrjth each other; and whatever space exists between them 
 
A MONSTER MEETINO. 99 
 
 is nothing iliore than the space which separates the riiole- 
 cules of the densest metal, such as silver, iron, or plati- 
 num! I have the right, therefore, to affirm, and I re- 
 peat, with the conviction which must penetratie all your 
 minds, 'Distance is but an empty name; distance does 
 not teally exist!' " 
 
 "Hurrah !" cried one voice (need it be said it was that 
 of J. T. Maston). "Distance does not exist!" And 
 overcome by the energy of his movements, he nearly fell 
 from the platform to the ground. He just escaped a 
 severe fall, which would have proved to him that dist^hce 
 was by no means an empty name. 
 
 "Gentlemen," resumed the orator,"! rejieat that the dis- 
 tance between the earth and her satellite is a mere trifle, 
 and undeserving of serious consideration. . I am convinced 
 that before twenty years are over one-half of our earth 
 will have paid a visit, to the moon. Now, my worthy 
 friends, if you have any question to put to me, you will, 
 I fear, sadly embarrass a poor man like myself; still I will 
 do my best to answer you." 
 
 Up to this point the president of the Gun Club had 
 been satisfied with the turn which the discussion had 
 assumed. It became now, however, desirable to divert 
 Ardan from questions of a practical nature, with which 
 he was doubtless far less conversant. Barbicane, theris- 
 fore, hastened to get in a word, and began by asking his 
 new friend whether he thought that the moon and the 
 planets were inhabited. 
 
 "You put before me a great problem, my. worthy presi- 
 dent," replied the orator, smiling. "Still, men of gre^t 
 intelligence, such as Plutarch, Swedenborg, Bernardin de 
 St. Pierre, and others have, if I mistake not, pronounced 
 in the aflBrmative. Looking at the question froin the 
 natural philosopher's point of view, I should say that 
 nothing useless existed in the world; and, replying to 
 
100 FBOM TEE EARTH TO TEE MOON. 
 
 your question by another, I should venture to assert, that 
 if th^se worlds are habitable, they either are, have been, 
 or will be inhabited." 
 
 "No one could answer more logically or fairly," re- 
 plied the president. "The question then reverts to this: 
 Are these worlds habitable? For my own part I believe 
 they are," 
 
 "For myself, I feel certain of it," said Michel Ardan. 
 
 "Nevertheless," retorted one of the audience, "there 
 are many arguments against the habitability of the worlds. 
 The conditions of life must evidently be greatly modified 
 upon the majority of them. To mention only the planets, 
 we should be either broiled alive in some, or frozen to 
 death in others, according as they are more or less re- 
 moved from the sun." 
 
 "I regret," replied Michel Ardan, "that I have not 
 the honor of personally knowing my contradictor, for I 
 would have attempted to answer him. His objection haa 
 its merits, I admit; but I think we may successfully com- 
 bat it, as well as all others which afEect the habitability 
 of the other worlds. If I were a natural philosopher, I 
 would tell him that if less of caloric were set in motion 
 upon the planets which are nearest to the sun, and more, 
 on the contrary, upon those which are farthest removed 
 from it, this simple fact would alone suflBce to equalize 
 the heat, and to render the temperature of those worlds 
 supportable by being organized like ourselves. If I were 
 a naturalist, I would tell him that, according to some 
 illustrious men of science, nature has furnished us with 
 instances upon the earth of animals existing under very 
 varying conditions of life; that fish respire in a medium 
 fatal to other animals ; that amphibious creatures possess 
 a double existence very difficult of explanation ; that cer- 
 tain denizens of the seas maintain life at enormous depths, 
 and there support a pressure equal to that of fifty or sixty 
 
A MONSTER MEETING. 101 
 
 fttmospheres without being crushed; that several aquatic 
 insects, insensible to temperature, are met with equally 
 among boiling springs and in the frozen plains of the 
 Polar Sea; in jSne, that we cannot help recognizing in 
 nature a diversity of means of operation oftentimes in- 
 comprehensible, but not the less real. If I were chemist, 
 I would tell him that the aerolites, bodies evidently 
 formed exteriorly of our terrestrial globe, have, upon 
 analysis, revealed indisputable traces of carbon, a sub- 
 stance which owes its origin solely to organized beings, 
 and which, according to the experiments of Eeichenbach, 
 must necessarily itself have been endued with animation. 
 And lastly, were I a theologian, I would tell him that the 
 scheme of the Divine Redemption, according to St. 
 Paul, seems to be applicable, not merely to the earth, but 
 to all the celestial worlds. But, unfortunately, I am 
 neither theologian, nor chemist, nor naturalist, nor phil- 
 osopher; therefore, in my absolute ignorance of the great 
 laws which govern the universe, I confine myself to say- 
 ing in reply, 'I do not know whether the worlds are in- 
 habited or not: and since I do not know, I am going to 
 see!" 
 
 Whether Michel Ardan's antagonist hazarded any 
 further arguments or not it is impossible to say, for the 
 uproarious shouts of the crowd would not allow any ex- 
 pression of opinion to gain a hearing. On silence being 
 restored, the triumphant orator contented himself with 
 adding the following remarks: 
 
 "Gentlemen, you will observe that I have but slightly 
 touched upon this great question. There is another alto- 
 gether different line of argument in favor of the habita- 
 bility of the stars, which I omit for the present. I only 
 desire to call attention .to one point. To those who 
 maintain that the planets are not inhabited one may 
 reply: You might be perfectly in the right, if you could 
 
103 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 only show that the earth is the best possible world, spite 
 of what Voltaire has said. She has but one satellite, 
 while Jupiter, Uranus, Saturn, Neptune have each sev- 
 eral, an advantage by no means to be despised. But that 
 which renders our own globe so uncomfortable is the in- 
 clination of its axis to the plane of its orbit. Hence the 
 inequality of days and nights; hence the disagreeable 
 diversity of the seasons. On the surface of our unhappy 
 spheroid we are always either too hot or too cold; we are 
 frozen in winter, broiled in summer; it is the planet of 
 rheumatism, coughs, bronchitis; while on the surface of 
 Jupiter, for example, where the axis is but slightly in- 
 clined, the inhabitants may enjoy uniform temperatures. 
 It possesses zones of perpetual springs, summers, autumns, 
 and winters; every Jovian may choose for himself what 
 climate he likes, and there spend the whole of his life in 
 security from all variations of temperature. You will, I 
 am sure, readily admit this superiority of Jupiter over 
 our own planet, to say nothing of his years, which each 
 equal twelve of ours! Under such auspices and such 
 marvelous conditions of existence, it appears to me that 
 the inhabitants of so fortunate a world must be in every 
 respect superior to ourselves. All we require, in order to 
 attain to such perfection, is the mere trifle of having an 
 axis of rotation less inclined to the plane of its orbit!" 
 
 "Hurrah!" roared an onergeticvoice, "let us unite out 
 efforts, invent the necessary machines, and rectify t 
 earth's axis!" 
 
 A thunder of applause followed this proposal, the 
 author of which was, of course, no other than J.. T. Mas- 
 ton. And, in all probability, if the truth must be told, 
 if the Yankees could only have found a point of applica- 
 tion for it, they would have constructed a lever capable 
 of raising the earth and rectifying its axis. It was just 
 this deficiency which baffled these daring mechanicians. 
 
ATTACK AND RIPOSTE. 103 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ATTACK AND EIPOSTB. 
 
 As SOOTS' as the excitement had subsided, the following 
 words were heard uttered in a strong and determined 
 Toice : 
 
 "Now that the speaker has favored us with so much 
 imagination, would he be so good as to return to his sub- 
 ject, and give us a little practical view of the question?" 
 
 All eyes were directed toward the person who spoke. 
 He was a little dried-up man, of an active figure, with an 
 American "goatee" beard. Profiting by the different 
 movements in the crowd, he had managed by degrees to 
 gain the front row of spectators. There, with arms 
 crossed and stern gaze, he watched the hero of the meet- 
 ing. After having put his question he, remained silent, 
 and appeared to take no notice of the thousands of looks 
 directed toward himself, nor of the murmur of disappro- 
 bation excited by his words. Meeting at first with no 
 reply, he repeated his question with marked emphasis, 
 adding, "We are here to talk about the moon and not 
 about the earth.'" < 
 
 "You are right, sir," replied Michel Ardan; "the dis- 
 cussion has become irregular. We will return to the 
 moon." 
 
 "Sir," said the unknown, "you pretend that our satel- 
 lite is inhabited. Very good; but if Selenites do exist, 
 that race of beings assuredly must live without breathing, 
 for — I warn you for your own sake — there is not the 
 smallest particle of air on the surface of the moon." 
 
104 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOm 
 
 At this remark Ardan pushed np his shock of red hair; 
 he saw that he was on the point of heing involred in a 
 struggle with this person upon the very gist of the whole 
 question. He looked sternly at him in his tnrn and said : 
 
 "Oh! so there is no air in the moon? And pray, if 
 yon are so good, who ventures to affirm that?" 
 
 "The men of science." 
 
 "Eeally?" 
 
 "Keally." 
 
 "Sir," replied Michel, "pleasantry apart, I have a pro- 
 found respect for men of science who do possess science, 
 but a profound contempt for men of science who do not." 
 
 "Do you know any who belong to the latter category?" 
 
 "Decidedly. In France there are some who maintain 
 that, mathematically, a bird cannot possibly fly; and 
 others who demonstrate theoretically that fishes were 
 never made to live in water." 
 
 "I have nothing to do with persons of that description, 
 and I can quote, in support of my statement, names 
 which yon cannot refuse deference to." 
 
 "Then, sir, you will sadly embarrass a poor ignorant, 
 who, besides, asSs nothing better than to learn." 
 
 "Why, then, do you introduce scientific questions if 
 you have never studied them?" asked the unknown some- 
 what coarsely. 
 
 "For the reason that 'he is always brave who never 
 suspects danger.' I know nothing, it is true; but it is 
 precisely my very weakness which constitutes my 
 strength." 
 
 "Your weakness amounts to folly," retorted the un- 
 known in a passion. 
 
 "All the better," replied our Frenchman, "if it carries 
 me up to the moon." 
 
 Barbicane and his colleagues devoured with their eyes 
 the intruder who had so boldly placed himself in antago- 
 
ATTACK AND RIPOSTE. 105 
 
 nism to their eaterprise. Nobody knew him, and the 
 president, uneasy as to the result of sa free a discussion, 
 watched his new friend with some anxiety. The meeting 
 began to be somewhat fidgety also, for the contest directed 
 their attention to the dangers, if not the actual impossi- 
 bilities, of the proposed expedition. 
 
 "Sir," replied Ardan's antagonist, "there are many 
 and incontrovertible reasons which prove the absence of 
 an atmosphere in the moon. I might say that, a priori, 
 if one ever did exist, it must have been absorbed by the 
 earth; but I prefer to bring forward indisputable facts." 
 
 "Bring them forward then, sir, as mapy as you please." 
 
 "You know," said the stranger, "that when any lum- 
 inous rays cross a medium such as the air, they are de- 
 flected out of the straight line; in other words, they 
 undergo refraction. Well! When stars are occulted by 
 the moon, their rays, on grazing the edge of her disc, 
 exhibit not the least deviation, nor offer the slightest in- 
 dication of refraction. It follows, therefore, that the 
 moon cannot be surrounded by an atmosphere." 
 
 "In point of fact," replied Ardan, "this is your chief, 
 if not your owZy argument; and a really scientific man 
 might be puzzled to answer it. For myself, I will simply 
 say that it is defective, because it assumes that the angu- 
 lar diameter of the moon has been completely determined, 
 which is not the case. But let us proceed. Tell me, my 
 dear sir, do you admit the existence of volcanoes on the 
 moon's surface?" 
 
 "Extinct, yes! In activity, no!" 
 
 "These volcanoes, however, were at one time in a state 
 of activity?" 
 
 "True! but, as they furnish themselves the oxygen 
 necessary for combustion, the mere fact of their eruption 
 does not prove the presence of an atmosphere." 
 
 "Proceed again, then; and let us set aside this class of 
 
106 FROM THE BARTB TO THE MOON. 
 
 arguments in order to come to direct observations. In 
 1715 the astronomers LouTille and Halley, watching the 
 eclipse of the 3d of May, remarked some very extraor- 
 dinary scintillations. These jets of light, rapid in natnro, 
 and of frequent recurrence, they attributed to thunder- 
 storms generated in the lunar atmosphere." 
 
 ''In 1715," replied the unknown, "the astronomers 
 Louville and Halley mistook for lunar phenomena some 
 which were purely terrestrial, such as meteoric or other 
 bodies which are generated in our own atmosphere. This 
 was the scientific explanation at the time of the facts; 
 and that is my answer now." 
 
 "On again, then," replied Ardan; "Herschel, in 1787, 
 observed a great number of luminous points on th« 
 moon's surface, did he not?" 
 
 "Yes! but without offering any solution of them. 
 Herschel himself never inferred from them the necessity 
 of a lunar atmosphere. And 1 may add that Baeer dnd 
 Maedler, the two great authorities upon the moon, are 
 quite agreed as to th"* entire absence of air on its surface." 
 
 A movement was here manifest among the assemblage, 
 ■*ho appeared to be growing excited by the arguments of 
 this singular personrge. 
 
 "Let us proceed," replied Ardan, with perfect cool- 
 ness, "and come to one important fact, A skillful 
 French astronomer, M. Laussedat, in watching the eclipse 
 of July 18, 1860, proved that the horns of the solar cres- 
 cent were rounded and truncated. Now, this appearance 
 could only have been produced by a deviation of the solar 
 rays in traversing the atmosphere of the moon. There is 
 no other possible explanation of the fact." 
 
 "But is this established as a fact?" 
 
 "Absolutely certain!" ' 
 
 A counter-movement here took place in favor of the 
 hero of the meeting, whose opponent was now reduoed to 
 
ATTACK AND RIPOSTE. 107 
 
 ?ilence. Ardan resumBd the conversation ; and, without 
 exhibiting any exnltatipn at the advantage he had gained, 
 simply said : 
 
 "You see, then, my dear sir, we must not pronounce 
 
 with absolute positiveness against the existence of ail 
 
 atmosphere in the moon. That atmosphere is, probably, 
 
 ;of extreme rarity; nevertheless at the present ^ay science 
 
 (generally admits that is existp." 
 
 "Not in the mountains, at all events," returned the 
 unknown, unwilling to give in. 
 
 "No! but at the bottom of the valleys, and not exceed- 
 ing a few hundred feet in height." 
 
 "In any case you will do well to take every precautiop, 
 for the air will be terribly rarified." 
 
 "My good sir, there will always be enough for a solitary 
 individual; besides, once arrived up there, I shall do my 
 best to economize, and not to breathe except on grand 
 occasions!" 
 
 A tremendous roar of laughter rang in the ears of the 
 mysterious interlocutor, who glared fiercely round upon 
 the assembly. 
 
 "Then," continued Ardan, with a careless air, "since 
 we are in accord regarding the presence of a certain 
 atmosphere, we are forced to admit the presence of a cer- 
 tain quantity of water. This is a happy consequence fpr 
 me. Moreover, my amiable contradictor, permit me to 
 submit to you one further observation. We only know 
 one side of the moon's disc; and if there is but little air 
 on the face presented to us, it is possible that there is 
 plenty on the one turned away from us." / 
 
 "And for what reason?" 
 
 "Because the moon, under the action of the earth's 
 attraction, has assumed the form of an egg, which we 
 look at from the smaller end. Hence it follows, by 
 Hansen's calculations, that its center of gravity is situated[ 
 
108 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. • 
 
 in the other hemisphere. Hence it results that the great 
 maSs of air and water must have been drawn away to the 
 other face of onr satellite during the first days of its 
 creation." 
 
 "Pure fancies!" cried the unknown. 
 
 "No! Pure theories! which are based upon the laws of 
 mechanics, and it seems difficult to me to refute them. I 
 appeal then to this meeting, and I put it to them whether 
 life, such as exists upon the earth, is possible on the sur- 
 face of the moon ?" 
 
 Three hundred thousand auditors at once applauded the 
 proposition. Ardan's opponent tried to get in another 
 word, but he could not obtain a hearing. Cries and 
 menaces fell upon him like hail. 
 
 "Enough! enough!" cried some. 
 
 "Drive the intruder ofl!" shouted others. 
 ' "Turn him out!" roared the exasperated crowd. 
 
 But he, holding firmly on to the platform, did not 
 budge an inch, and let the storm pass on, which would 
 soon have assumed formidable proportions, if Michel 
 Ardan had not quieted it by a gesture. He was too 
 chivalrous to abandon his opponent in an apparent ex- 
 tremity. 
 
 "You wished to say a few more words?" he asked, ia 
 a pleasant voice. 
 
 "Yes, a thousand; or rather, no, only one! If yon 
 persevere in your enterprise, yon must be a " 
 
 "Very rash person! How can you treat me as such? 
 me, who have demanded a cylindro-conical projectile, in 
 order to prevent turning round and round on my way 
 like a squirrel?" 
 
 "But, unhappy man, the dreadful recoil will smash you 
 to pieces at your starting." 
 
 "My dear contradictor, you have just put your finger 
 upon the true and the only difficulty; nevertheless, I 
 
X 
 
 ATTACK AND RIPOSTE. 109 
 
 have too good an opinion of the industrial gecius of the 
 Americans not to believe that they will succeed in over- 
 coming it." 
 
 "But the heat developed by the rapidity of the projec- 
 tile in crossing the strata of air?" 
 
 "Oh ! the walls are thick, and I shall soon have crossed - 
 the atmosphere." 
 
 "But victuals and water?" 
 
 "I have calculated for ^ twelvemonth's supply, and I 
 shall be only four days on the journey." 
 
 "But for air to breathe on the road?" 
 
 "I shall make it by chemical process." 
 
 "But your fall on the moon, supposing yon ever reach 
 it?" 
 
 "It will be six times less dangerous than a sudden fall 
 upon the earth, because the weight will be only one-sixth 
 as great on the surface of the moon." 
 
 "Still it will be enough to smash you like glass!" 
 r "What is to prevent my retarding the shock by means 
 of rockets conveniently placed, and lighted at the right 
 moment?" 
 
 "But after all, supposing all diflBculties surmounted, 
 all obstacles removed, supposing everything combined to 
 favor you, and granting that you may arrive safe and 
 sound in the moon, how will you come back?" 
 
 "I am not coming backl" 
 
 At this reply, almost sublime in its very simplicity, 
 the assembly became silent. But its silence was more 
 eloquent than could have been its cries of enthusiasm. 
 The unknown profited by the opportunity and once more 
 protested : 
 
 "You will inevitably kill yourself!" he cried; "and 
 your death will be tb^t of a tnadman, nseleas eves to 
 goiwcsl'* 
 
110 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOIT. 
 
 "Go on, my dear unknown, for trnly yonr prophecies 
 are most agreeable!" 
 
 "It really is too much!" cried Michel Ardan's adver- 
 sary. "I do not know why I should continue so frivolous 
 a discussion! Please yourself about this insane expedi- 
 tion! We need not trouble ourselves about you!" 
 
 "Pray don't stand upon ceremony!" 
 
 "No! another person is responsible for your act.*' 
 
 "Who, may I ask?" demanded Michel Ardan in an 
 imperious tone. 
 
 "The ignoramus who organized this equally absurd 
 and impossible experiment!" 
 
 The attack was direct. Barbicane, ever since the in- 
 terference of the. unknown, had been making fearful 
 efforts of self-control; now, however, seeing himself 
 directly attacked, he could restrain himself no longer. 
 He rose suddenly, and was rushing upon the enemy who 
 thus braved him to the face, when all at one he found 
 himself separated from him. 
 
 The platform was lifted by a hundred strong arms, and 
 the president of the Gun Club shared with Michel Ardan 
 triumphal honors. The shield was heavy, but the bearers 
 came in continuous relays, disputing, struggling, even 
 fighting among themselves in their eagerness to lend 
 their shoulders to this demonstration. 
 
 However, the unknown had not profited by the 
 tumult to quit his post. Jiosides he eould not have done 
 it in the midst of that compact crowd. There he held on 
 in the front row with crossed arms, glaring at President 
 Barbicane. 
 
 The shouts of the immense crowd continued at their 
 highest pitch throughout this triumphant march. 
 Michel Ardaif took it all with evident pleasure. His 
 face gleamed with delight. Several times the platform 
 seemed seized with pitching and rolling like a weather- 
 
ATTACK AND RIPOSTE. HI 
 
 beaten ship. But the two heroes of the meeting had 
 good sea-legs. They never stumbled; and their vessel 
 arrived without dues at the port of Tampa Town. 
 
 Michel Ardan managed fortunately to escape from the 
 last embraces of his vigorous admirers. He made for the 
 Hotel Franklin, quickly gained his chamber, and slid 
 under the bedclothes, while an army of a hundred thou- 
 sand men kept watch under his windows. 
 
 During this time a scene, short, grave, and decisive, 
 took place between the mysterious, personage and the 
 president of the Gun Club. 
 
 Barbicane, free at last, had gone straight at his ad- 
 versary. 
 
 "Come!" he said shortly. 
 
 The other followed him on to the quay; and the two 
 presently found themselves alone at the entrance of an 
 open wharf on Jones' Fall. 
 
 The two enemies, still mutually unknown, gazed at 
 each other. 
 
 "Who are you ?" asked Barbicane. , 
 
 "Captain Nicholl!" 
 
 "So I suspected. Hitherto chance has never thrown 
 you in my way." 
 
 "I am come for that purpose." 
 
 "You have insulted me." 
 
 "Publicly!" 
 
 "And you will answer to me for this insult?" 
 
 "At this very moment." . 
 
 "No ! I desire that all that passes between ns shall be 
 secret. There is a wood situated three miles from Tampa, 
 the wood of Skersnaw. Do you know it?" 
 
 "I know it." 
 
 "Will you be so good as to enter it to-morrow morning 
 at five o'clock, on one side?" 
 
112 FROM THE EABTE TO THE MOON. 
 
 "Yes! i£ you will enter at the other side at the same 
 hour." 
 
 "And you will not forget your rifle?" said Barbicane. 
 
 "No more than yon will forget yours?" replied Nicholl. 
 
 These words having been coldly spoken, the president 
 of the Gun Club and the captain parted. Barbicane re- 
 turned to his lodging; but, instead of snatching a few 
 hours of repose, he passed the night in endeavoring to 
 discover a means of evading the recoil of the projectile, 
 and resolving the diflBcult problem proposed by Michel 
 Ardan during the discussion at the meeting. 
 
HOW A FRENCHMAN MANAGES AN AFFAIB. 113 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 HOW A FBENCHMAN MANAGES AN AFFAIB. 
 
 While the contract of this duel was being discussed hy. 
 the president and the captain — this dreadful, savage duel, 
 in which each adversary became a man-hunter — Michel 
 Ardan was resting from the fatigues of his triumph. 
 Eesting is hardly an appropriate expression, for American 
 beds rival marble or granite tables for hardness. 
 
 Ardan was sleeping, then, badly enough, tossing about 
 between the cloths which served him for sheets, and he 
 was dreaming of making a jnore comfortable couch in his 
 projectile when a frightful noise disturbed his dreams. 
 Thundering blows shook his door. They seemed to be 
 caused by some iron instrument. A great deal of loud 
 talking was distinguishable in this racket, which was 
 rather too early in the morning. "Open the door," some 
 one shrieked, "for heaven's sake!" Ardan saw no reason 
 lor complying with a demand so roughly expressed. 
 However, he got up and opened the door just as it was 
 giving way before the blows of this determined visitor* 
 The secretary of the Gun Olub burst into the room. A 
 bomb could not have made more noise or have entered 
 the room with less ceremony. , 
 
 "Last night," cried J. T. Maston, ex airupto, "our ' 
 president was publicly insulted during the meeting. He 
 provoked his adversary, who is none other than Captain 
 NichoU! They are fighting this morning in the wood of 
 Skersnaw. I heard all particulars from the mouth of 
 Barbicane himself. If he is killed, then our scheme is at 
 
114 FRQM TEE EARTH TO TEE MOON. 
 
 an end. We must prevent this duel; and one man alone 
 has enough influence over Barbicane to stop him, and 
 that man is Michel Ardan." 
 
 While J. T. Masfcon was speaking, Michel Ardan, with- 
 out interrupting him, had hastily put on his clothes; and, 
 in less than two minutes, the two friends were making 
 for the suburbs of Tampa Town with rapid strides. 
 
 It was during this walk that Maston told Ardan the 
 state of the case. He told him the real causes of the 
 hostility between Barbicane and Nicholl; how it was of 
 old date, and why, thanks to unknown friends, the presi* 
 dent and the captain had, as yet, never met face to face. 
 He added that it arose simply from a rivalry between iron 
 plates and shot, and, finally, that the scene at the meet- 
 ing was only the long-wished-for opportunity for Nicholl 
 to pay off an old grudge. 
 
 Nothing is more dreadful than private duels in America. 
 The two adversaries attack each other like wild beasts. 
 Then it is that they might well covet those wonderful 
 properties of the Indians of the prairies — their qnick in- 
 telligence, their ingenious cunning, their scent of the 
 enemy. A single mistake, a moment's hesitation, a single 
 false step may cause death. On these occasions Yankees 
 are often accompanied by their dogs, and keep up the 
 struggle for hours. 
 
 "What demons you are!" cried Michel Ardan, when 
 his companion had depicted this scene to him with much 
 energy. 
 
 "Yes, we are," replied J. T. modestly; "but we had 
 ; better make haste." 
 
 Though Michel Ardan and he had crossed the plains 
 still wet with dew, and had taken the shortest route over 
 creeks and ricefields, they could not reach Skersnaw under 
 five hours and a half. 
 
 Barbicane must have passed the border half an hour 
 ago. 
 
HOW A mENCHMAN MANAOm AN AFFAIR. ll»y 
 
 There was an old bushman working there, occupied in 
 selling fagots from trees that had been leveled by his axe. 
 
 Maston ran toward him, saying, "Have yon seen a 
 man go into the wood, armed with a rifle? Barbicane, 
 the president, my best friend?" 
 
 The worthy secretary of the Gun Club thought that his 
 president must be known by all the world. But the 
 bnshman did not seem to understand him. 
 
 "A hunter?" said Ardan. 
 
 "A hunter? Yes," replied the bushman. 
 
 "liong ago?" 
 
 "About an hour." 
 
 "Too late!" cried Maston. 
 
 "Have you heard any gunshots?" asked Ardan. 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "Not one?" 
 
 "Not one! that hunter did not look as if he knew how 
 to hunt!" 
 
 "What is to be done?" said Maston. 
 
 "We must go into the wood, at the risk of getting a 
 ball which is not intended for us." 
 
 "Ah!" cried Maston, in a tone which could not be 
 ^listaken, "I would rather have twenty balls in my own 
 tead than one in Barbicane's." 
 
 "forward, then," said Ardan, pressing his companion's 
 hand. 
 
 A few moments later the two friends had disappearedr 
 in the copse. It was a dense thicket, in which rose huge| 
 cypresses, sycamores, tulip-trees, olives, tamarinds, oaks, 
 and magnolias. These different trees had interwoven 
 their branches into an inestricable maze, through which 
 the eye could not penetrate. Michel Ardan and Maston 
 walked side by side in silence through the tall grass, cut* 
 ting themselves a path through the strong creepers,, cast- 
 ing curious glances on the bushes, and momentarily es^ 
 
116 FROM TBE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 pecting to hear the sonnd of rifles. As for the traces 
 which Barbicane ought to have left of his passage through 
 the wood, there was not a vestige of them visible: so they 
 followed the barely perceptible paths along which Indians 
 had tracked some enemy, and which the dense foliage 
 darkly overshadowed. 
 
 After an hour spent in vain pursuit the two stopped, 
 in intensified anxiety. 
 
 "It must be all over," said Maston, discouraged. "A 
 man like Barbicane would not dodge with his enemy, or 
 ensnare him, would not even maneuver! He is too open, 
 too brave. He has gone straight ahead, right into the 
 danger, and doubtless far enough from the bushman for 
 the wind to prevent his hearing the report of the rifles." 
 
 "But surely," replied Michel Ardan, "since we entered 
 the wood we should have heard !" 
 
 "And what if we came too late?" cried Maston in tones 
 of despair. 
 
 For once Ardan had no reply to make, he and Maston 
 resuming their walk in silence. Prom time to time, 
 indeed, they raised great shouts, calling alternately Barb- 
 icane and Nicholl, neither of whom, however, answered 
 their cries. Only the birds, awakened by the sound, flew 
 past them and disappeared among the branches, while 
 some frightened deer fled precipitately before them. 
 
 For another hour their search was continued. The 
 greater part of the wood had been explored. There was 
 nothing to reveal the presence of the combatants. The 
 information of the bushman was after all doubtful, and 
 Ardan was about to propose their abandoning this useless 
 pursuit, when all at once Maston stopped. 
 
 "Hush!" said he, "there is some one down there!" 
 
 "Some one?" repeated Michel Ardan. 
 
 "Yes; a man! He seems motionless. His rifle is not 
 in his hands. What can he be doing?" 
 
HOW A FRENCHMAN MANAGES AN AFFAIR. 117 
 
 "But can you recognize him?" asked Ardan, whose 
 short sight was of little use to him in such circumstances. 
 
 "Yes! yes! He is turning toward us," answered 
 Maston. 
 
 "And it is?" 
 
 'Captain Nicholl!" x 
 
 "Nicholl?" cried Michel Ardan, feeling a terrible pang 
 of grief. 
 
 "Nicholl unarmed! He has, then, no longer any fear 
 of his adversary!" 
 
 "Let us go to him," said Michel Ardan, "and find out 
 the truth." 
 
 But he and his companion had barely taken fifty steps, 
 when they paused to examine the captain more atten- 
 tively. They expected to find a bloodthirsty man, happy 
 in his revenge. 
 
 On seeing him, they remained stupefied. 
 
 A net, composed of very fine meshes, hung between 
 two enormous tulip-trees, and in the midst of this snare, 
 with its wings entangled, was a poor little bird, uttering 
 pitiful cries, while it vainly struggled to escape. The 
 bird-catcher who had laid this snare was no human being, 
 but a venomous spider, peculiar to that country, as large 
 as a pigeon's egg, and armed with enormous claws. The 
 hideous creature, instead of rushing on its prey, had 
 beaten a sudden retreat and taken refuge in the upper 
 branches of the tulip-tree, for a formidable enemy menaced 
 '.its stronghold. 
 
 Here, then, was Nicholl, his gun on the ground, for- 
 getful of danger, trying if possible to save the victim 
 from its cobweb prison. At last it was accomplished, and 
 the little bird flew joyfully away and disappeared. 
 
 Nicholl lovingly watched its flight, when he heard 
 these words pronounced by a voice full of emotion: 
 
 "You are indeed a brave manV° 
 
118 FBOM THE BaRTB TO THE MOON. 
 
 He turned. Michel Ardan was before him, repeating 
 in a different tone: 
 
 "And a kindhearted one!" 
 
 "Michel Ardan!" cried the captain. "Why are yon 
 here?" 
 
 "To press your hand, Nicholl, and to prevent you from 
 either killing Barbicane or being killed by him." 
 
 "Barbicane!" returned the captain. "I have been 
 looking for him for the last two hours in vain. Where is 
 he hiding?" ' 
 
 "Nicholl!" said Michel Ardan, "this is not courteous! 
 we ought always to treat an adversary with respect; rest 
 assured if Barbicane is still alive we shall find him all the 
 more easily; because if he has not, like you, been amus- 
 ing himself with freeing oppressed birds, he must be look- 
 ing for you. When we have found him, Michel Ardan 
 tells yon this, there will be no duel between you." 
 
 "Between President Barbicane and myself," gravely 
 replied Nicholl, "there is a rivalry which the death of 
 pne of us- " 
 
 "Pooh, pooh!" said Ardan. "Brave fellows like you 
 indeed! you shall not fight!" 
 
 "I will fight, sir!" 
 
 "No!" ' 
 
 "Captain," said J. T. Maston, with much feeling, "I 
 am a friend of the president's, his alter ego, his second 
 self; if you really must kill some one," shoot me! it will 
 do just as well!" 
 
 "Sir," Nicholl replied, seizing his rifle convulsively, 
 "these jokes " 
 
 "Our friend Maston is not joking," replied Ardan. 
 "i fully understand his idea of being killed himself in 
 order to save his friend. But neither he nor Barbioane 
 will fall before the balls of Captain Nicholl. Indeed I 
 have so attractive a proposal to make to the two rivals, 
 that both will be eager to accept it." 
 
sow A FRENCHMAN MANAGES AN AFFAIR. 119 
 
 "What is it?" asked NichoU with manifest incredulity. 
 
 "Patience!" exclaimed Ardan. "I can only reveal it 
 in the presence of Barbicane." 
 
 "Let us go in search of him then!" cried' the captain. 
 
 The three men started off at once; the captain having 
 discharged his rifle threw it over his shoulder, and ad- 
 vanced in silence. Another half-hour passed, and the 
 pursuit was still fruitless. Maston was oppressed by 
 sinister forebodings. He looked fiercely at Nicholl, ask- 
 ing himself whether the Captain's vengeance had been 
 already satisfied, and the unfortunate Barbicane, shot, 
 was perhaps lying dead on some bloody track. The same 
 thought seemed to occur to Ardan ; and both were cast- 
 ing inquiring glances on Nicholl, when suddenly Maston 
 paused. 
 
 The motionless figure of a man leaning against a 
 gigantic catalpa twenty feet off appeared, half-veiled by 
 the foliage. 
 
 "It is he!" said Maston. 
 
 Barbicane never moved. Ardan looked at the captain, 
 but he did not wince. Ardan went forward crying: 
 
 "Barbicane! Barbicane!" 
 
 No answer! Ardan rushed toward his friend; but in 
 the act of seizing his arms, he stopped short and uttered 
 a cry of surprise. 
 
 Barbicane, pencil in hand, was tracing geometrical 
 figures in a memorandum book, while his unloaded rifle 
 lay beside him on the ground. 
 
 Absorbed in his studies, Barbicane, in his turn forget- 
 ful of the duel, had seen and heard nothing. . 
 
 When Ardan took his hand, he looked up and stared at 
 his visitor in astonishment. 
 
 "Ah, it is you!" he cried at last. "I have found it, 
 my friend, I have found itl" 
 
 "What?" 
 
120 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "My plan!" 
 
 "What plan?" 
 
 "The plan for counteracting the effect of the shock at 
 the departure of the projectile!" 
 
 "Indeed?" said Michel Ardan, looking at the captain 
 out of the corner of his eye. 
 
 "Yes! water! simply water, which will act as a spring 
 — ah! Maston," cried Barbicane, "you here also?" 
 
 "Himself," replied Ardan; and permit me to introduce 
 to yon at the same time the worthy Captain Nicholl!" 
 
 "Nicholl!" cried Barbicane, who jumped up at once. 
 "Pardon me, captain, I had quite forgotten — I am ready!" 
 
 Michel Ardan interfered, without giving the two 
 enemies time to say anything more. 
 
 "Thank heaven!" said he.'' "It is a happy thing that 
 brave men like you two did not meet sooner! we should 
 now have been mourning for one or other of you. But, 
 thanks to Providence, which has interfered, there is now 
 no further cause for alarm. When one forgets one's 
 anger in mechanics or in cobwebs, it is a sign that the 
 anger is not dangerous." 
 
 Michel Ardan then told the president how the captain 
 had been found occupied. 
 
 "I put it to you now," said he in conclusion, "are two 
 such good fellows as yon are made on purpose to smash 
 each other's skulls with shot?" 
 
 There was in "the situation" somewhat of the ridicu- 
 lous, something quite unexpected; Michel Ardan saw 
 this, and determined to effect a reconciliation. 
 
 "My good friends," said he, with his most bewitching 
 smile, "this is nothing but a misunderstanding. Noth- 
 ing more! well! to prove that it is all over between you, 
 accept frankly the proposal I am going to make to you." 
 
 "Make it," said Nicholl. 
 
 "Our friend Barbicane believes that his projectile will 
 go straight to the moon?" 
 
sow A FRENCHMAN MANAGES AN AFFAIR. 121 
 
 "Yes, certainly," replied the president. 
 
 "And our friend NichoU is persuaded it will fall back 
 upon the earth?" 
 
 "I am certain of it," cried the captain. 
 
 "Good!" said Ardan! "I cannot pretend to make you 
 agree; but I suggest this: Go with me, and so see whether 
 we are stopped on our journey." 
 
 "What?" exclaimed J. T. Maston, stupefied. 
 
 The two rivals, on this sudden proposal, looked steadily 
 at each other. Barbicane waited for the captain's answer. 
 Nicholl watched for the decision of the president. 
 
 "Well?" said Michel. "There is now no fear of the 
 shock!" 
 
 "Done!" cried Barbicane. 
 
 But quickly as he pronounced the word, he was not 
 before Nicholl. 
 
 "Hurrah! bravo! hip! hip! hurrah!" cried Michel, 
 giving a hand to each of the late adversaries. "Now that 
 it is all settled, my friends, allow me to treat you after 
 French fashion. Let us be off to breakfast!" 
 
123 FMOM TEB EASTS TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE NEW CITIZEN' OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 That same day all America heard of the affair of Cap 
 tain Nicholl and President Barbicane, as well as its singu- 
 lar denouement. From that day forth, Michel Ardan 
 had not one moment's rest. Deputations from all corners 
 of the Union harassed him without cessation or intermis- 
 sion. He was bompelled to receive them all, whether he 
 would or no. How many hands he shook, how many 
 people he was "hail-fellow-well-met" with, it is impossi- 
 ble to guess! Such a triumphal result would have intoxi- 
 cated any other man; but he managed to keep himself in 
 a state of delightful sewii-tipsiness. 
 
 Among the deputations of all kinds which assailed him. 
 that of "The Lunatics" were careful not to forget what 
 they owed to the future conqueror of the moon. One 
 day, certain of these poor people, so numerous in 
 America, came to call upon him, and requested permis- 
 sion to return with him to their native country. 
 
 "Singular hallucination!" said he to Barbicane, after 
 having dismissed the deputation with promises to convey 
 numbers of messages to friends in the moon. "Do yon 
 believe in the influence of the moon upon distempers?" 
 
 "Scarcely!" 
 
 "No more do I, despite some remarkable recorded facts 
 of history. For instance, during an epidemic in 1693, a 
 large number of persons died at the very moment of an 
 eclipse. The celebrated Bacon always fainted during 
 an eclipse. Charles VI. relapsed six times into madness 
 
tSe new citizen of tee u. & las 
 
 during the year 1399, sometimes during the new, some- 
 times during the full moon. Gall observed that insane 
 persons underwent an accession of their disorder twice in 
 every month, at the epochs of new and full moon. In 
 fact, numerous observations made upon fevers, somnambn- 
 lisms, and other human maladies, seem to prove that the 
 moon does exercise some mysterious influence upon man." 
 
 "But the how and the wherefore?" asked Barbicane. 
 
 "Well, I can only give you the answer which Arago 
 borrowed from Plutarch, which is nineteen centuries old. 
 'Perhaps the stories are not true!' " 
 
 In the height of his triumph, Michel Ardan had to 
 encounter all the annoyances incidental to a man of 
 celebrity. Managers of entertainments wanted to exhibit 
 him. Barnum offered him a million dollars to make the 
 tour of the United States in his show. As for his photo- 
 graphs, they were sold of all sizes, and his portrait taken 
 in every imaginable posture. More than half a million 
 copies were disposed of in an incredibly short space of 
 time. 
 
 But it was not only the men who paid him homage, 
 but the women also. He might have married well a 
 hundred times over, if he had been willing to settle in 
 life. The old maids, in particular, of forty years and 
 upward, and dry in proportion, devoured his photographs 
 d^y and night. They would have, married him by hun- 
 dreds, even if he had imposed upon them the condition of 
 accompanying him into space. He had, however, no 
 intention of transplanting a race of Franco-Americans 
 upon the surface of the moon. 
 
 He therefore declined all offers. 
 
 As soon as he could withdraw from these somewhat 
 embarrassing demonstrations, he went, accompanied by 
 his friends, to pay a visit to the Columbiad. He was 
 highly gratified by his inspection, and made the descent 
 
124 FROM THE EARTH 10 THE MOON. 
 
 to the bottom of the tube of this gigantic machine which 
 was presently to launch him to the regions of the moon. 
 
 It is necessary here to mention a proposal of J. T. Mas- 
 ton's. When the secretary of the Gun Club found that 
 Barbicane and Nicholl accepted the proposal of Michel 
 Ardan, he determined to join them, and make one of a 
 snug party of four. So one day he determined to be ad- 
 mitted as one of the travelers. Barbicane, pained at hav-' 
 ing to refuse him, gave him clearly to understand that 
 the projectile could not possibly contain so many pas- 
 sengers. Maston, in despair, went in search of Michel 
 Ardan, who counseled him to resign himself to the situa- 
 tion, adding one or two arguments ad Jiominem. 
 
 "You see, old fellow," be said, "you must not take 
 what I say in bad part; but really, between ourselves, you 
 are in too incomplete a condition to appear in the moon!" 
 
 "Incomplete?" shrieked the valiant invalid. 
 
 "Yes, my dear fellow! imagine our meeting some of 
 the inhabitants up there! Would yon like to give them 
 such a melancholy notion of what goes on down here? to 
 teach them what war is, to inform them that we employ 
 our time chiefly in devouring each other, in smashing 
 arms and legs, and that too on a globe which is capable of 
 supporting a hundred billions of inhabitants, and which 
 actually does contain nearly two hundred millions? Why, 
 my worthy friend, we should have to turn yon out of 
 doors!" 
 
 "But still, if you arrive there in pieces, you will be aa 
 incomplete as I am." 
 
 "Unquestionably," replied Michel Ardan; "bnt V3 
 shall not." 
 
 In fact, a preparatory experiment, tried on the 18th of 
 October, had yielded the best results and caused the most 
 well-grounded hopes of success. Barbicane, desirous of 
 obtaining some notion of the efEect of the shock at the 
 
TKE NEW CITIZEN OF THE U. 8. 125 
 
 moment of the projectile's departure, had procured a 
 38-inch mortar from the arsenal of Pensacola. He had 
 this placed on the bank of Hillisborough Eoads, in order 
 that the shell might fall back into the sea, and the shock 
 be thereby destroyed. His object was to ascertain the 
 extent of the shock of departure, and not that of the 
 return. 
 
 A hollow projectile had been prepared for this curious 
 experiment. A thick padding fastened upon a kind of 
 elastic network, made of the best steel, lined the inside 
 of the walls. It was a veritable nest most carefully 
 wadded. 
 
 "What a pity I can't find room in there," said J. T, 
 Maston, regretting that his height did not allow of his 
 trying the adventure. 
 
 Within this shell were shut np a large cat, and a 
 squirrel belonging to J. T. Maston, and of which he was 
 particularly fond. They were desirous, however, of 
 ascertaining how this little animal, least of all others sub- 
 ject to giddiness, would endure this experimental voyage. 
 
 The mortar was charged with 160 pounds of powder, 
 and the shell placed in the chamber. On being fired, th« 
 projectile rose with great velocity, described a majestic 
 parabola, attained a height of about a thousand feet, and 
 with a graceful curve descended in the midst of the ves- 
 sels that lay there at anchor. 
 
 Without a moment's loss of time a small boat put off in 
 the direction of its fall; some active divers plunged into 
 the water and attached ropes to the handles of the shell, 
 which was quickly dragged on board. Five minutes did 
 not elapse between the moment of enclosing the animals 
 and that of unscrewing the coverlid of their prison. 
 
 Ardan, Barbicane, Maston, and Nicholl were present on 
 board the boat, and assisted at the operation with an in- 
 terest which may readily be comprehended. Hardly had 
 
136 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 the shell been opened when the cat leaped out, slightly 
 bruised, but full of life, and exhibiting no signs whatever 
 of having made an aerial expedition. No trace, however, 
 of the squirrel could be discovered. The truth at last 
 became apparent — the cat had eaten its fellow-traveler! 
 
 J. T. Maston grieved much for the loss of his poor 
 squirrel, and proposed to add its case to that of other 
 martyrs to science. 
 
 After this experiment all hesitation, all fear 'disap- 
 peared. Besides, Barbioane's plans would ensure greater 
 perfection for his projectile, and go far to annihilate alto- 
 gether the effects of the shock. Nothing now remained 
 but to go! 
 
 Two days later Michel Ardan received a message from 
 the President of the United States, an honor of which he 
 showed himself especially sensible. 
 
 After the example of his illustrious fellow-countryman, 
 the Marquis do la Payette, the government had decreed 
 to him the title of "Citizen of the United States ft 
 America." i 
 
THE PROJECTILE- VEHICLE. 12? 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE PROJECTILE-VEHICLE. 
 
 Ok the completion of the Colnmbiad the public interest 
 centered in the projectile itself, the vehicle which was 
 destined to carry the three hardy adventurers into space. 
 
 The new plans had been sent to Breadwill and Co., of 
 Albany, with the request for their speedy execution. 
 The projectile was consequently cast on the 2d of Novem- 
 ber, and immediately forwarded by the Eastern Eailway 
 to Stones Hill, which it reached without accident on the 
 10th of that month, where Michel Ardan, Barbicane, and 
 NiohoU were waiting impatiently for it. 
 
 The projectile had now to be filled to the depth of 
 three feet with a bed of water, intended to support a 
 water-tight wooden disc, which worked easily within the 
 walls of the projectile. It was upon this Icind of raft that 
 the travelers were to take their place. This body of 
 water was divided by horizontal partitions, which the 
 shock of the departure would have to break in succession. 
 Then each sheet of the water, from the lowest to the high- 
 est, running ofE into escape tubes toward the top of the 
 projectile, constituted a kind of spring; and the wooden 
 disc, supplied with extremely powerful plugs, could not 
 strike the lowest plate except after breaking successively 
 the di^erent partitions. Undoubtedly the travelers would 
 still have to encounter a violent recoil after the complete 
 escapement of the water; but the first shock would be 
 almost entirely destroyed by this powerful spring. The 
 upper part of the walls were lined with a thick padding 
 
128 FROM TEE EABTE TO THE MOON. 
 
 of leather, fastened upou springs of the best steel, behind 
 which the escape tubes were completely concealed ; thus all 
 imaginable precautions had been taken for averting the 
 first shock; and if they did get crushed, they must, as 
 Michel Ardan said, be made of very bad materials. 
 
 The entrance into this metallic tower was by a narrow 
 aperture contrived in the wall of the cone. This was 
 hermetically closed by a plate of aluminium, fastened 
 internally by powerful screw-pressure. The travelers 
 could therefore quit their prison at pleasure, as soon as 
 they should reach the moon. 
 
 Light and view were given by means of four thick 
 lenticular glass scuttles, two pierced in the circular wall 
 itself, the third in the -bottom, the fourth in the top. 
 These scuttles then 'were protected against the shock of 
 departure by plates let into solid grooves, which conld 
 easily be opened outward by unscrewing them from the 
 inside. Eeservoirs firmly fixed contained water and the 
 necessary provisions; and fire and light were procurable 
 by means of gas, contained in a special reservoir under a 
 pressure of several atmospheres. They had only to turn 
 a tap, and for six hours the gas would light and warm 
 this comfortable vehicle. 
 
 There now remained only the question of air; for allow- 
 ing for the coDsnmpti6n of air by Barbicane, his two 
 companions, and two dogs which he purposed taking with 
 him, it was necessary to renew the air of the projectile. 
 Now air consists principally of twenty-one parts of oxygen 
 and seventy-nine of nitrogen. The lungs absorb the 
 oxygen, which is indispensable for the support of life, 
 and reject the nitrogen. The air expired loses nearly five 
 per cent, of the former and contains nearly an equal 
 volume of carbonic acid, produced by the combustion of 
 the elements of the blood, In an air-tight enclosure, 
 then, after a certain time, all the oxygen of the air will 
 
THE PnOJECTILE-VEHICLE. 139 
 
 be replaced by the carbonic acid — a gas fatal to life. 
 There were two things to be done then — first, to replace 
 the absorbed oxygen; secondly, to destroy the expired 
 carbonic acid; both easy enough to do, by means of 
 chlorate of potassium and caustic potash. The former is a 
 salt which appears under the form of white crystals; when 
 raised to a temperature of 400 degrees it is transformed 
 /into chlornre of potassium, and the oxygen which it con- 
 tains is entirely liberated. Now twenty-eight pounds of 
 chlorate of potassium produce seven pounds of oxygen, or 
 2,400 litres — the quantity necessary for the travelers dur- 
 ing twenty-fou? hours. 
 
 Caustic pota^sh has a great afSnity for carbonic acid; 
 and it is sulSqieiit to shake it in order for it to seize upon 
 the acid and form bicarbonate of jiotassium. By these two 
 means they would be enabled to restore to the vitiated 
 air its life-suppoi'ting properties. 
 
 It is necessary, however, to add that the experiments 
 had hitherto been made in anima vili. Whatever, its 
 scientific accuracy was, they were at present ignorant how > 
 it would answer with human beings. The honor of put- 
 ting it to the proof was energetically claimed by J. T. 
 Maston. 
 
 "Since I am not to go," said the brave artillerist, "I 
 may at least live for a week in the projectile."' 
 
 It would have been hard to refuse him ; so they con- 
 sented to his wish. A sufficient quantity of chlorate of 
 potassium and of caustic potash was placed at his disposal, 
 together with provisions for eight days. And having 
 shaken hands with his friends, on the 12th of November, 
 at six o'clock a.m., after strictly informing them not to 
 open his prison before the 20th, at six o'clock p.Mj, ho 
 slid down the projectile, the plate of which was at once 
 hermetically sealed. What did he do with himself during 
 that week? Thej could get no informatipp,. The thi.Ql^i 
 
130 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 ness of the walls of the projectile prevented any sound 
 reaching from the inside to the outside. On the 20th of 
 November, at six p.m. exactly, the plate was opened. 
 The friends of J. T. Maston had been all along in a state 
 of much anxiety; but they were promptly reassured on 
 hearing a jolly voice shouting a boisterous hurrah. 
 
 Presently afterward the secretary of the Gun Club 
 appeared at the top of the cone in a trinrnphots* attitude. 
 He had grown fat! 
 
THE TELESCOPE OF THE ROCKT MOUNTAINS. 131 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE TELESCOPE OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAIIfS. 
 
 Our the 20th of October in the preceding year, after the 
 close of the subscription, the president of the Gun Club 
 had credited the Observatory of Cambridge with the nec- 
 essary sums for the construction of a gigantic optical in- 
 strument. This instrument was designed for the purpose 
 of rendering visible on the surface of the moon any object 
 exceeding nine feet in diameter. 
 
 At the period when the Gun Club essayed their great 
 experiment, such instruments had reached a high degree 
 of perfection, and produced some magnificent results. 
 Two telescopes in particular, at this time, were possessed 
 of remarkable power and of gigantic dimensions. The 
 first, constructed by Herschel, was thirty-six feet in 
 length, and had an object-glass of ^ four feet six inches; it 
 possessed a magnifying power of 6,0®0. The second was 
 raised in Ireland, in Parsonstown Park, and belongs to 
 Lord Eosse. The length of this tube is forty-eight feet, 
 and the diameter of its object-glass six feet ; it magnifies 
 6,400 times, and required an immense erection of brick- 
 work and masonry for the purpose of working it, its 
 weight being twelve and a half tons. 
 
 Still, despite these colossal dimensions, the actual en- 
 largements scarcely exceeded 6,000 times in round num- 
 bers; consequently, the moon was brought within no 
 nearer an apparent distance than thirty-nine miles; and 
 objects of less than sixty feet in diameter, unless they 
 were of very considerable length, were still imperceptible. 
 
132 FROM THE EARTH TO TEE MOOK 
 
 In the present case, dealing with a projectile nine feet 
 in diameter and fifteen feet long, it became necessary to 
 bring the moon within an apparent distance of five miles 
 at most; and, for that purpose, to establish a magnifying 
 power of 48,000 times. 
 
 Such was the question proposed to the Observatory of 
 Cambridge. There was no lack of funds; the difficulty 
 was purely one of construction. 
 
 After considerable discussion as to the best form and 
 principle of the proposed instrument the Work was finally 
 commenced. According to the calculations of the Observ- 
 atory of Cambridge, the tube of the new refl.ector would 
 require to be 380 feet in length, and the object-glass six- 
 teen feet in diameter. Colossal as these dimensions may 
 appear, they were diminutive in comparison with the 
 10,000 foot telescope proposed by the astronomer Hooka 
 only a few years ago! 
 
 Regarding the choice of locality, that matter was 
 promptly determined. The. object was to select some 
 lofty^ mountain, and there are not many of these in the 
 United States. In fact there are but two chains of mod- 
 erate elevation, between which runs the magnificent Mis- 
 sissippi, the "king of rivers," as these Republican Yankees 
 delight to call it. 
 
 Eastwards rise the Appalachians, the very highest point 
 of which, in New Hampshire, does not exceed the very 
 moderate altitude of 5,600 feet. 
 
 On the west, however, rise the Eocky Mountains, that 
 immense range which, commencing at the Straits of Ma- 
 gellan, follows the western coast of Southern America 
 under the name of the Andes or the Cordilleras, until it 
 crosses the Isthmus of Panama, and runs up the' whole of 
 North America to the very borders of the Polar Sea. The 
 highest elevation of this range still does not exceed 10,700 
 feet. With this elevation, nevertheless, the Gun Clab 
 
THE TELESCOPE OF TEE BOOKT MOUNTAINB. 133 
 
 were compelled to be content, inasmuch as they had de- 
 termined that both telescope and Columbiad should be 
 erected within the limits of the Union. All the necessary 
 apparatus was consequently sent on to the summit of 
 Long's Peak, in the territory of Missouri. 
 
 Neither pen nor language can describe the difficulties 
 of all kinds which the American engineers had to sur- 
 mount, or the prodigies of daring and skill which they 
 accomplished. They had to raise enormous stones, niass- 
 I JTe pieces of wrought iron, heavy corner-clamps and huge 
 portions of cylinder, with an object-glass weighing nearly 
 30,000 pounds, above the line of perpetual snow for more 
 than 10,000 feet in height, after crossing desert prairies, 
 impenetrable forests, fearful rapids, far from all centers 
 of population, and in the midst of savage regions, in 
 which every detail of life becomes an almost insoluble 
 problem. And yet, notwithstanding these innumerable 
 obstacles, American genius triumphed. In less than a 
 year after the commencement of the works, toward the 
 close of September, the gigantic reflector rose into the 
 air to a height of 280 feet. It was raised by means of an 
 enormous iron crane; an ingenious mechanism allowed it 
 to be easily worked toward all the points of the heavens, 
 and to follow the stars from the one horizon to the other 
 during their journey through the heavens.* 
 
 It had cost 8400,000. The first time it was directed 
 toward the moon the observers evinced both curiosity 
 and anxiety. What were they about to discover in the 
 field of this telescope which magnified objects 48,000 
 times? Would they perceive peoples, herds of lunar ani- 
 mals, towns, lakes, seas? No! there was nothing which 
 science had not already discovered! and on all the points 
 of its disc the volcanic nature of the moon became deter- 
 minable with the utmost precision. 
 
 But the telescope of the Rocky Mountains, before doing 
 
134 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOIT. I 
 
 its dnty to the Gun Club, rendered immense services to 
 astronomy. Thanks to its penetrative power, the depths 
 of the heavens were sounded to the utmost extent; the 
 apparent diameter of a great number of stars was accu- 
 rately measured; and Mr. Clark, of the Cambridge staff, 
 resolved the Crab nebula in Taurus, which the reflectoi 
 of Lord Bosse had never been able to decompose. 
 
FINAL DETAILS. 135 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 FIKAL DETAILS. 
 
 It was the 2-2d of November; the departure was to take 
 place in ten days. Oue operation alone remained to be 
 accomplished to bring all to a happy termination; an op- 
 eration delicate and perilous, requiring infinite -precau- 
 tions, and against the success of which Captain Nicholl 
 had laid his third bet. It was, in fact, nothing less than 
 the loading of the Golumbiad, and the introduction into it 
 of 400,000 pounds of gun-cotton. Nicholl had thought, 
 not perhaps without reason, that the handling of such 
 formidable quantities of pyroxyle would, in all probability, 
 involve a grave catastrophe; and at any rate, that this im- 
 mense mass of eminently inflammable matter would inev- 
 itably ignite when submitted to the pressure of the projec- 
 tile. 
 
 There were indeed dangers accruing as before from the 
 carelessness of the Americans, but Barbicane had set his 
 heart on success, and took all possible precautions. In 
 the first place, he was very careful as to the transporta- 
 tion of the gun-cotton to Stones Hill. He had it con- 
 veyed in small quantities, carefully packed in sealed cases. 
 These were brought by rail from Tampa Town to the 
 camp, and from thence were taken to the Columbiad by 
 barefooted workmen, who deposited them in their places 
 by means of cranes placed at the orifice of the cannon. 
 No steam-engine was permitted to work, and every fire 
 was extinguished within two milec of the works. 
 
 Even in November they feared to work by day, lest the 
 
136 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 sun's rays acting on the gnn-cotton might lead to unhappy 
 results. This led to their working at night, by light pro- 
 duced in a vacuum by means of EiihmkorfE's apparatus, 
 which threw an artificial brightness into the depths of the 
 Columbiad. There the cartridges were arranged with the 
 utmost regularity, connected by a metallic thread, des- 
 tined to communicate to them all simultaneously the elec- 
 tric spark, by which means this mass of gnn-cotton was 
 eventually to be ignited 
 
 By the 29th of November eight hundred cartridges had 
 been placed in the bottom of the Columbiad. So far the 
 operation had been successful! But what confusion, what 
 anxieties, what struggles were undergone by President 
 Barbicane! In vain had he refused admission to Stones 
 Hill; every day the inquisitive neighbors scaled the pali- 
 sades, some even carrying their imprudence to the point 
 of smoking while surrounded by bales of gun-cotton. 
 Barbicane ^as in a perpetual state of alarm. J. T. Mas- 
 ton seconded him to the best of his ability, by giving vig- 
 orous chase to the intruders, and carefully picking up the 
 still lighted cigar ends which the Yankees threw about. 
 A somewhat diflBcult task ! seeing that more than 300,000 
 persons were gathered round the enclosure. Michel Ar- 
 dan had volunteered to superintend the transport of the 
 cartridges to the mouth of the Columbiad; but the presi- 
 dent, having surprised him with an enormous cigar in his 
 mouth, while he was hunting out the rash spectators to 
 whom he himself offered so dangerous an example, saw 
 that Jie could not trnst this fearless smoker, and was 
 therefore obliged to mount a special guard over him. 
 
 At last, Providence being propitious, this wonderful 
 loading came to a happy termination. Captain Nicholl's 
 third bet being thus lost. It remained now to introduce 
 the projectile into the Columbiad, and to place it on its 
 soft bed of gun-cotton. 
 
FINAL DETAILS. 137 
 
 But before doing this, all those things necessary for the 
 journey had to be carefully arranged in the projectile 
 vehicle. These necessaries were numerous; and had Ar- 
 dan been allowed to follow his own wishes, there would 
 have been no space remaining for the travelers. It is im- 
 possible to conceive of half the things this charming 
 Frenchman wished to convey to the moon. A veritable 
 stock of useless trifles! But Barbicane interfered and 
 refused admission to anything not absolutely needed. 
 Several thermometers, barometers, and telescopes were 
 packed in the instrument case. 
 
 The travelers being desirous of' examining the moon 
 carefully during their voyage, in order to facilitate their 
 studies, they took with them Boeer and Moeller's excellent 
 Mappa Selenographica, a masterpiece of patience and ob- 
 servation, which they hoped would enable them to iden- 
 tify those physical features in the moon, with which they 
 were acquainted. This map reproduced with scrupulous 
 fidelity the smallest details of the lunar surface which 
 faces the earth ; the mountains, valleys, craters, peaks, 
 and ridges were all represented, with their exact dimen- 
 sions, relative positions, and names; from the mountains 
 Doerfel and Leibnitz on the eastern side of the disc, to 
 the Mare frigoris of the North Pole. 
 
 They took also three rifles and three fowling-pieces, 
 and a large quantity of balls, shot, and powder. 
 
 "We cannot tell whom we shall have to deal with," said 
 Michel Ardan. "Men or beasts may possibly object to 
 our visit. It is only wise to take all precautions." 
 
 These defensive weapons were accompanied by pickaxes, 
 crowb&rs, saws, and other useful implements, not to men- 
 tion clothing adapted to every temperature, from that of 
 the polar regions to that of the torrid zone. 
 
 Ardan wished to convey a number of animals of differ- 
 ent sorts, not indeed a pair of every known species, as 
 
138 FSOM TBS BARTB TO THE MOON. 
 
 he conld not see the necessity of acclimatizing serpents, 
 tigers, alligators, or any other noxious heasts in the moon. 
 "Nevertheless," he said to Barbicane, "some vaitr'able and 
 useful heasts, bullocks, cows, horses, and donkeys, would 
 bear the journey very well, and would also be very useful 
 to us." 
 
 "I dare say, my dear Ardan," replied the president, 
 "but our projectile-vehicle is no Noah's ark, from which 
 it differs both in dimensions and object. Let us confine 
 ourselves to possibilities." 
 
 After a prolonged discussion, it was agreed that the 
 travelers should restrict themselves to a sporting-dog be- 
 longing to NichoU, and to a large Newfoundland. Sev- 
 eral packets of seeds were also included among the neces- 
 saries. Michel Ardan, indeed, was anxious to add some 
 sacks full of earth to sow them in; as it was, he took a 
 dozen shrubs carefully wrapped up in straw to plant in 
 the moon. 
 
 The important question of provisions still remained; it 
 being necessary to provide against the possibility of their 
 finding the moon absolutely barren. Barbicane managed 
 so successfully, that he supplied them with suflBcient ra- 
 tions for a year. These consisted of preserved meats and 
 vegetables, reduced by strong hydraulic pressure to the 
 smallest possible dimensions. They were also supplied 
 with brandy, and took water enough for two months, be- 
 ing confident, from astronomical observations, that there 
 was no lack of water on the moon's surface. As to provi- 
 sions, doubtless the inhabitants of the earth would find 
 nourishment somewhere in the moon. Ardan never ques- 
 tioned this; indeed, had he done so, he would never have 
 Undertaken the journey. 
 
 "Besides," he said one day to his friends, "we shall not 
 be completely abandoned by our terrestrial friends; they 
 will take care not to forget us." 
 
FINAL DETAILS. 139 
 
 "No, indeed!" repli^ed J. T. Maston. 
 
 "What do yon mean?" asked Mcholl, 
 
 '^Nothing would be simpler," replied Ardan; "th« 
 Columbiad will be always there. Well! whenever the 
 moon is in a favorable condition as to the zenith, if not 
 to the perigee, that is to say about once a year, could yon 
 not send us a shell packed with provisions, which we 
 might expect on some appointed day?" 
 
 "Hurrah! hurrah!" cried J. T. Maston; "what an in- 
 genious fellow ! what a splendid idea! Indeed, my good 
 friends, we shall not forget you !" 
 
 "I shall reckon upon you! Then, yon see, we shall re- 
 ceive news regularly from the earth, and we shall indeed 
 be stupid if we hit upon no plan for communicating with 
 our good friends here!" 
 
 These words inspired such confidence, that Michel Ar- 
 dan carried all the Gan Club with him in his enthusiasm. 
 What he said seemed so simple and so easy, so sare of 
 snccess, that none could be so sordidly attached to this 
 earth as to hesitate to follow the three travelers on their 
 Innar expedition. 
 
 All being ready at last, it remained to place the projec- 
 tile in the Columbiad, an operation abundantly accom- 
 panied by dangers and di£Sculties. 
 
 The enormous shell was conveyed to the summit of 
 Stones Hill. There, powerful cranes raised it, and held 
 it suspended over the mouth of the cylinder. 
 
 It was a fearful moment! WhAt if the chains shoald 
 break under its enormous weight? The sudden fall of 
 such a body would inevitably cause the gun-cotton to 
 explode! 
 
 Fortunately this did not happen ; and some hours later 
 the projectile-vehicle descended gently into the heart of 
 the cannon and rested on its conch of pyroxyle, a verita- 
 ble bed of explosive eider-down. Its pr§sgt)j:§ bad Qo re- 
 
140 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 snlt, other than the more efEectnal ramming down of the 
 charge of the Columbiad. 
 
 "I have lost," said the captain, who forthwith paid 
 President Barbicatne the sum of three thonsand dollars. 
 
 Barbicane did not wish to accept the money from one 
 of his fellow-travelers, but gave way at last before the 
 determination of Nicholl, who wished before leaving the 
 aarth to fulfil all his engagements. 
 
 "Now," said Michel Ardan, "I have only one thing 
 more to wish for yon, my brave captain." 
 
 "What is that?" asked NichoU. 
 
 "It is that you may lose your two other bets! Thes wi 
 shall be sure not to be stopped on our jonrneyl" 
 
FIBEI 141 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 fiee! 
 
 The first of December had arrived! the fatal day! for, 
 if the projectile were not discharged that very night at 
 lOh. 46in. 40s. p.m., more than eighteen years must roll 
 by before the moon would again present herself under the 
 same conditions of zenith and perigee. 
 
 The weather was magnificent. Despite the approach 
 of winter, the sun shone brightly, and bathed in its radi-' 
 ant light that earth which three of its denizens were about 
 to abandon for a new world. 
 
 How many persons lost their rest on the night which 
 preceded this long-expected day ! All hearts beat with 
 disquietude, save only the heart of Michel Ardan. That 
 imperturbable personage came and went with his habitual 
 business-like air, while nothing whatever denoted that any 
 unusual matter preoccupied his mind. 
 
 After dawn, an innumerable multitude covered the 
 prairie which extends, as far as the eye can reach, round 
 Stoqes Hill. Every quarter of an hour the railway brought 
 fresh accessions of sightseers; and, according to the state- 
 ment of the Tampa Town Observer, not less than five 
 millions of spectators thronged the soil of Florida. 
 
 For a whole month previously, the mass of these persons 
 had bivouacked pund the enclosure, and laid the founda- 
 tions for a town which was afterward called "Ardan's 
 Town." The whole plain was covered with huts, cot- 
 tages, and tents. Every nation under the sun was repre- 
 sented there; m^ every language might be heard spoken 
 
143 FBOM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 at the same time. It was a perfect Babel re-enacted. All 
 the varioas classes of American society were mingled to- 
 gether in terms of absolute equality. Bankers, farmers, 
 sailors, cotton-planters, brokers, merchants, watermen, 
 magistrates, elbowed each other in the most free-and-easy 
 way. Louisiana Creoles fraternized with farmers from 
 Indiana; Kentucky and Tennessee gentlemen and haughty 
 Virginians conversed with trappers and the half-savages 
 of the lakes and butchers from Cincinnati. Broad- 
 brimmed white hats and Panamas, blue cotton trowsers, 
 light-colored stockings, cambric frills, were all here dis- 
 played; while upon shirt-fronts, wristbands, and neckties, 
 upon every finger, even upon the very ears, they wore an 
 assortment of rings, shirt-pins, brooches, and trinkets, of 
 which the value only equaled the execrable taste. Women, 
 children, and servants, in equally expensive dress, sur- 
 rounded their husbands, fathers, or masters, who resem- 
 bled the patriarchs of tribes in the midst of their immense 
 households. 
 
 At meal-times all fell to work upon the dishes peculiar 
 to the Southern States, and consumed with an appetite 
 that threatened speedy exhaustion of the victualing powers - 
 of Florida, fricasseed frogs, stufEed monkey, fish chowder, 
 underdone 'possum, and raccoon steaks. And as for the 
 liquors which accompanied this indigestible repast ! The 
 shouts, the f ociferations that resounded through the bars 
 and taverns decorated with glasses, tankards, and bottles 
 of marvelous shape, mortars for pounding sugar, and 
 bundles of straws! "Mint-julep!" roars one of the bar- 
 men; "Claret sangaree!" shouts another; "Cocktail!" 
 "Brandy-smash!" "Keal mint-julep in the new style!" 
 411 these cries intermingled produced a bewildering and 
 deafening hubbub. 
 
 But on this day, 1st of December, such sounds were 
 rare. No one thought of eating or drinking, and atjour 
 
FIRE! 143 
 
 v.M. there were vast numbers of spectators who had not 
 even taken their customary lunch! And, a still wore 
 significant fact, even the national passion for play seemed 
 quelled for the time under the general excitement of the 
 hour. 
 
 Up till nightfall, a dull, noiseless agitation, such as pre- 
 cedes great catastrophes, ran through the anxious multi- 
 tude. An indescribable uneasiness pervaded all minds, 
 an indefinable sensation which oppres'sed the heart. Every, 
 one wished it was over. 
 
 However, about seven o'clock, the heavy silence was 
 dissipated. The moon rose above the horizon. Millions 
 of hurrahs hailed her appearance. She was punctual to 
 the rendezvous, and shouts of welcome greeted her on all 
 sides, as her pale beams shone gracefully in the clear 
 heavens. At this moment the three intrepid travelers 
 appeared. This was the signal for renewed cries of still 
 greater intensity. Instantly the vast assemblage, as with 
 one accord, struck up the national hymn of the United 
 States, and "Yankee Doodle," sung by five million of 
 hearty throats, rose like a roaring tempest to the farthest 
 limits of the atmosphere. Then a profound silence reigned 
 throughout the crowd. 
 
 The Frenchman and the two Americans had by this 
 time entered the enclosure reserved in the center of the 
 multitude. They were accompanied by the members of 
 the Gun Club, and by deputations sent from all the Euro- 
 pean Observatories. Barbicane, cool and collected, was 
 giving his final directions. Nicholl, with compressed lips, 
 his arms crossed behind his back, walked with a firm and 
 measured step. Michel Ardan, always easy, dressed in, 
 thorough traveler's costume, leathern gaiters on his legs, 
 pouch by his side, in loose velvet suit, cigar in mouth, 
 was full of inexhaustible gayety, laughing, joking, playing 
 pranks with J. T. Maston. In one word, he was the thor- 
 
144 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 ough "Frenchman" (and worse, a "Parisian") to the last 
 moment. 
 
 Ten o'clock struck! The moment had arrived for tak- 
 ing their places in the projectile! The necessary opera- 
 tions for the descent, and the subsequent removal of the 
 cranes and scafEolding that inclined over the month of the 
 Columbiad, required a certain period of time. 
 
 Barbicane had regulated his chronometer to the tenth 
 part of a second by that of Murchison the engineer, who 
 ■was charged with the duty of firing the gun by means of 
 an electric spark. Thns the travelers enclosed within the 
 projectile were enabled to follow with their eyes the im- 
 passive needle which marked the precise moment of their 
 departure. 
 
 The moment had arrived for saying "good-by!" The 
 scene was a touching one. Despite his feverish gayety, - 
 even Michel Ardan was touched. J.' T. Maston had found 
 in his own dry eyes one ancient tear, which he had doubt- 
 less reserved for the occasion. He dropped it on the fore- 
 head of his dear president. 
 
 "Can I not go?" he said, "there is still time!" 
 
 "Impossible, old fellow!" replied Barbicane. A few 
 moments later, the three fellow-travelers had ensconced 
 themselves in the projectile, and screwed down the plate 
 which covered the entrance-aperture. The mouth of the 
 Columbiad, now completely disencumbered, was open en- 
 tirely to the sky. 
 
 The moon advanced upward in a heaven of the purest 
 clearness, outshining in her passage the twinkling light 
 of the stars. She passed over the constellation of the 
 Twins, and was now nearing the halfway point between 
 the horizon and the zenith. A terrible silence weighed 
 upon the entire scene! Not a breath of wind upon the 
 earth! not a sound of breathing from the countless chests 
 of the spectators! Their hearts seemed afraid ]to beat! 
 
FIRE! 145 
 
 All eyes were fixed upon the yawning mouth of the Oo- 
 Inmbiad. 
 
 Murchison followed with his eye the hand of his 
 chronometer. It wanted scarce forty seconds to the 
 moment of departure, but each second seemed to last an 
 age! At the twentieth there was a general shudder, as it 
 occurred to the minds of that vast assemblage that the, 
 bold travelers shut up within the projectile were also 
 counting those terrible seconds. Some few cries here and 
 there escaped the crowd. 
 
 "Thirty-five!— thirty-six! — thirty-seven! — thirty-eight! 
 —thirty-nine!— forty! Fieb! ! !" 
 
 Instantly Murchison pressed with his finger the key of 
 the electric battery, restored the current of the fluid, and 
 discharged the spark into the breech of the Columbiad. 
 
 An appalling, unearthly report followed instantly, such 
 as can be compared to nothing whatever known, not even 
 to the roar of thunder, or the blast of volcanic explosions! 
 No words can convey the slightest idea of the terrific 
 sound! An immense spout of fire shot up from the 
 bowels. of the earth as from a crater. The earth heaved 
 up, and with great difficulty some few spectators obtained 
 a momentary glimpse of the projectile victoriously cleav- 
 ing the air in the midst of the fiery vapors! 
 
146 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 FOUL WEATHER. 
 
 At the moment when that pyramid of fire rose to a 
 prodigious height into the air, the glare of the flame lit 
 up the whole of Florida; and for a moment day super- 
 seded night over a considerable extent of the country. 
 This immense canopy of fire was perceived at a distance 
 of one hundred miles out at sea, and more than one ship*s 
 captain entered in his log the appearance of this gigantic 
 meteor. 
 
 The discharge of the Columhiad was accompanied by 
 a perfect earthquake. Florida was shaken to its very 
 depths. The gases of the powder, expanded by heat, 
 forced back the atmospheric strata with tremendous 
 violence, and this artificial hurricane rushed like a water- 
 spout through the air. 
 
 Not a single spectator remained on his feet! Men, 
 women, children, all lay prostrate like ears of corn under 
 a tempest. There ensued a terrible tumult; a large num- 
 ber of persons were seriously injured. J. T. Maston, 
 who, despite of all dictates of prudence, had kept in 
 advance of the mass, was pitched back 120 feet, shooting 
 like a projectile over the heads of his fellow-citizens. 
 Three hundred thousand persons remained deaf for a 
 time, and as though struck stupefied. 
 
 As soon as the first effects were over, the injured, the 
 deaf, and lastly, the crowd in general, woke up with 
 frenzied cries. "Hurrah forArdan! Hurrah for Barb- 
 jcane! Hurrah for NicbolU" rose to the skies. Thou- 
 
FOUL WEATHER. 14? 
 
 sands of persons, noses in air, armed with telescopes and 
 race-glasses, were questioning space, forgetting all contu- 
 sions and emotions in the one idea of watching for the 
 projectile. They looked in vain! It was no longer to be 
 seen, and they were obliged to wait tor telegrams from 
 Long's Peak. The director of the Cambridge Observa- 
 tory was at his post on the Eocky Mountains ; and to him, 
 as a skillful and persevering astronomer, all observations 
 bad been confided. 
 
 But an unforeseen phenomenon came in to subject the 
 public impatience to a severe trial. 
 
 The weather, hitherto so fine, suddenly changed; the 
 sky became heavy with clouds. It could not have been 
 otherwise after the terrible derangement of the atmos- 
 pheric strata, and the dispersion of the enormous qtaan- 
 tity of vapor arising from the combustion of 300,000 
 pounds of pyroxyle! 
 
 On the morrow the horizon was covered with clouds — 
 a thick and impenetrable curtain between earth and sky, 
 which unhappily extended as far as the Eocky Mountains. 
 It was a fatality ! But since man had chosen so to disturb 
 the atmosphere, he was bound to accept the consequences 
 of his experiment. 
 
 Supposing, now, that the experiment had suceeded, the 
 travelers having started on the 1st of December, at lOh. 
 46m. 40s. P.M., were due on the 4th at Oh^ p.m. at their 
 destination. So that up to that time it would have been 
 very diflBcult after all to have observed, under such con- 
 ditions, a body so small as the shell. Therefore they 
 waited with what patience they might. 
 
 From the 4th to the 6th of December inclusive, the 
 weather remaining much the same in America, the great 
 European instruments of Herschel, Eosse, and Foucault, 
 were constantly directed toward the moon, for tb* 
 weather was then magnificent; but the comparative weak- 
 
148 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 ness of their glasses prevented any trustworthy ohserva« 
 tiona heing ipade. 
 
 On the tih the sky seemed to lighten. They were in 
 hopes now, hnt their hope was of bnt short duration, and 
 i^t night again thick clouds hid the starry vault ftom all 
 'eyes. 
 
 Matters were now becoming serious, when on the 9th 
 the sun reappeared for an instant, as if for the purpose 
 of teasing the Americans. It was received with hisses; 
 and wounded, no doubt, by such a reception, showed 
 itself very sparing of its rays. 
 
 On the 10th, no change! J. T. Maston went nearly 
 madj and great fears were entertained regarding the brain 
 of this worthy individual, which had hitherto been so well 
 preserved within his gutta-percha cranium. 
 
 But on the 11th one of those inexplicable tempests 
 peculiar to those intertropical regions was let loose in 
 the atmosphere. A terrific east wind swept away the 
 groups of clouds which had been so long gathering, and 
 at night the semi-disc of the orb of night rode majesti- 
 cally amid the soft constellations of the sky. 
 
A NEW STAB. 149 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII. 
 
 A KBW STAE. 
 
 That very night, the startling news so impatiently 
 awaited, burst like a thunderbolt over the United States 
 of the Union, and thence, darting across the ocean, ran 
 through all the telegraphic wires of the globe. The pro- 
 jectile had been detected, thanks to the gigantic reflector 
 of Long's Peak! Here is the note received by the direc- 
 tor of the Observatory of Cambridge. It contains the 
 scientific conclusion regarding this great experiment of 
 the Gun Club. 
 
 ' "Long's Peak, December 13. 
 
 "To the Officers of the Observatory of Cambridge. 
 
 "The projectile discharged by the Columbiad at Stones 
 Hill has been detected by Messrs. Belfast and J. T. Mas- 
 ton, 12th of December, at 8.47 p.m., the moon having 
 entered her last quarter. This projectile has not arrived 
 at its dfestination. It has passed by the side; but suf- 
 ficiently near to be retained by the lunar attraction. 
 
 "iThe rectilinear movement has thus become changed 
 into a circular motion of extreme velocity, and it is now 
 pursuing an elliptical orbit round the moon, of which it 
 •tias become a true satellite. 
 
 "The elements of this new star we have as yet been 
 unable to determine; we do not yet know the velocity of 
 its passage. The distance which separates it from the 
 surface of the moon may be estimated at about 2,833 
 miles. 
 
 "However, two hypotheses come here into our consid- 
 eration. 
 
 "1. Either the attraction of the moon will end by 
 drawing them into itself, and. the travelers will attain 
 their destination; or. 
 
150 H^OM THE EARTB TO THE MOON. 
 
 •'2. The projectile, following an immntable law, will 
 continue to gravitate round the moon till the end of time. 
 
 "At some future time, our observations will be able to 
 determine this point, but till then the experiment of the 
 Gun Club can have no other result than to have provided 
 our solar system with a new star. "J. Belfast." 
 
 To how many qnestions did this unexpected denoue- 
 ment give rise? What mysterious results was the future 
 reserving for the investigations of science? At all events, 
 the names of Nicholl, Barbicane, and Michel Ardan were 
 certain to be immortalized in the annals of astronomy! 
 
 When the dispatch from Long's Peak had once become 
 known, there was but one universal feeling of surprise 
 and alarm. Was it possible to go to the aid of these bold 
 travelers? No! for they had placed themselves beyond 
 the pale of humanity, by ^crossing the limits imposed by 
 the Creator on his earthly creatures. They had air 
 enough for two months; they had victuals enough for 
 twelve; — hut after that ? There was only one man who 
 would not admit that the situation was desperate — he 
 alone had confidence ; and that was their devoted friend 
 J. T. Maston. 
 
 Besides, he never let them get out of sight. His home 
 was henceforth the post at Long's Peak; his horizon, the 
 mirror of that immense reflector. As soon as the moon 
 rose above the horizon, he immediately caught her in the 
 field of the telescope; he never let her go for an instant out 
 of h\a sight, and followed her assiduously in her course 
 through the stellar spaces. He watched with untiring 
 patience the passage of the projectile across her silvery 
 disc, and really the worthy man remained in perpetual 
 communication with his three friends, whom he did not 
 despair of seeing again some day. 
 
 "Those three men," said he, "have carried into space 
 all the resources of art, science, and industry. With 
 that, one can do anything; and you will see that, some 
 day, they will come oat^aUxiKiit." 
 
ROUND THE MOON! 
 
 A SEQUEL TO 
 
 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON 
 
ROUND THE MOON. 
 
 PEELIMINAEY CHAPTEK. 
 
 EECAPITULATIKG THE FIKST PART OF THIS WOBK, AKD 
 SERVING AS A PREFACE TO THE SECOND. 
 
 During the year 186-, the whole world was greatly 
 excited by a scientific experiment unprecedented in the 
 annals of science. The members of the Gnn Club, a 
 circle of artillerymen formed at Baltimore after the 
 American war, conceived the idea of putting themselves 
 in communication with the moon ! — yes, with the moon — 
 by sending to her a projectile. Their president, Barbi- 
 caue, the promoter of the enterprise, having consulted 
 the astronomers of the Cambridge Observatory upon the 
 subject, took all necessary means to ensure the success of 
 this extraordinary enterprise, which had been declared 
 practicable by the majority of competent judges. After 
 setting on foot a public subscription, which realized nearly 
 £1,200,000, they began the gigantic work. 
 
 According to the advice forwarded from the members 
 of the Observatory, the gun destined to launch the pro- 
 jectile had to be fixed in a country situated between the 
 and 38th degrees of north or south la^titude, in order to 
 aim at the moon when at the zenith; and its initiatory 
 velocity was fixed at twelve thousand yards to" the second. 
 Launched on the 1st of December, at lOhrs. 46m. 40s. 
 P.M., it ought to reach the moon four days after its de- 
 parture, that is on the 5th of December, at midnight pre- 
 
154 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 cisely, at the moment of her attaining her perigee, that 
 is her nearest disifance from the earth, which is exactly 
 86,410 leagues (French), or 238,833 miles uiean distance 
 (English). 
 
 The principal members of the Gun Club, President 
 Barbicane, Major Elphinstone, the secretary Joseph T. 
 Maston, and other learned men, held several meetings, at 
 which the shape and composition of the projectile were 
 discussed, also the position and nature of the gun, and 
 the quality and quantity of the powder to be used. It 
 was decided : First, that the projectile should be a shell 
 made of aluminium with a diameter of 108 inches and a 
 thickness of twelve inches to its walls; and should weigh 
 19,350 pounds. Second, that the gun should be a Colnm- 
 biad cast in iron, 900 feet long, and run perpendicularly 
 into the earth. Third, that the charge should contain 
 400,000 pounds of gun-cotton, which, giving out six 
 billions of litres of gas in rear of the projectile, would 
 easily carry it toward the orb of night. 
 
 These questions determined President Barbicane, as- 
 sisted by Murchison the engineer, to choose a spot situated 
 in Florida, in 27° 7' North latitude, and 77° 3' West 
 (Greenwich) longitude. It was on this spot, after stupen- 
 dous labor, that the Columbiad was cast with full success. 
 Things stood thus, when an incident took place which 
 increased the interest attached to this great enterprise a 
 hundredfold. 
 
 A Frenchman, an enthusiastic Parisian, as witty as he 
 was bold, asked to be enclosed in the projectile, in order 
 that he might reach the moon, and reconnoiter this ter- 
 restial satellite. The name of this intrepid adventurer 
 was Michel Ardan. He landed in America, was received 
 with enthusiasm, held meetings, saw himself carried in 
 tniumph, reconciled President Barbicane to his mortal 
 enemy. Captain Nicholl, and, as a token of reconcilia- 
 
PBELIMINABT OEAPTEB. 155 
 
 tion, persuaded them both to start with him in the pro- 
 jectile. The proposition being accepted, the shape of 
 the projectile was slightly altered. It was made of a 
 cylindro-conical form. This species of aerial car was 
 lined with strong springs and partitions to deaden the 
 shock of departure. It was provided with food for a year, 
 water for some months, and gas for some days. A self- 
 acting apparatus supplied the three travelers with air to 
 breathe. At the same time, on one of the highest points 
 of the Eocky Mountains, the Gun Club had a gigantic 
 telescope erected, in order th?it they might be able to fol- 
 low the course of the projectile through space. All was 
 then ready. 
 
 On the 30th of November, at the hour fixed upon, from 
 the midst of an extraordinary crowd of spectators, the 
 departure took place, and for the first time, three human 
 beings quitted the terrestrial globe, and launched into 
 interplanetary space with almost a certainty of reaching 
 their destination. These bold travelers, Michel Ardap, 
 President Barbicane, and Captain Nicholl, ought to make 
 the passage in ninety-seven hours, thirteen minutes, and 
 twenty seconds. Consequently, their arrival on the lunar 
 disc could not take place until the 5th of December at 
 twelve at night, at the exact moment when the moon 
 should be full, and not on the 4th, as some badly informed 
 journals had announced. 
 
 But an unforeseen circumstance, viz., the detonation 
 produced by the Oolumbiad, had the immediate effect of 
 troubling the terrestrial atmosphere, by accumulating a 
 large quantity of vapor, a phenomenon which excited 
 universal indignation, for the moon was hidden from the 
 eyes of the watchers for several nights. 
 
 The worthy Joseph T. Maston, the staunchest friend 
 of the three travelers, started for the Eocky Mountains, 
 accompanied by the Hon. J. Belfast, director of the Cam- 
 
156 FROM THE BABTH TO TEE MOON- 
 
 I 
 bridge Observatory, and reached the station of Long*a 
 Peak, where the telescope was erected which- brought the 
 moon within an apparent distance of two leagues. The 
 honorable secretary of the Gun Club wished himself to 
 observe the vehicle of his daring friends. 
 
 The acenniulation of the clouds in the atmosphere pre- 
 vented all observations on the 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, an 
 10th of December. Indeed it was thought that all observ- 
 ations would have to be put o£E to the 3d of January in 
 the following year; for the moon entering its last quarter 
 on the. 11th, would then only present an ever-decreasing 
 portion of her disc, insufficient to allow of their following 
 the course of the projectile. 
 
 At length, to the general satisfaction, a heavy storm 
 cleared the atmosphere on the night of the 11th and 12th 
 pf December, and the moon, with half-illumnated disc, 
 was plainly to be seen upon the black sky. 
 
 That very night a telegram was sent from the station 
 of Long's Peak by Joseph T. Maston and Belfast to the 
 gentlemen of the Cambridge Observatory, announcing 
 that, on the 11th of December at 8h. 47m. p.m., the pro- 
 jectile launched by the Columbiad of Stones Hill had 
 been detected by Messrs. Belfast and Maston — that it had 
 deviated from its course from some unknown cause, and 
 had not reached its destination; but that it had passed near 
 enough to be retained by the lunar attraction; that its 
 rectilinear movement had been changed to a circular one, 
 and that following an elliptical orbit round the star of 
 night it had become its satellite. The telegram added 
 that the elements of this new star had not yet been cal- 
 culated; and indeed three observations made upon a star 
 in three different positions are necessary to determine 
 these elements. Then it showed that the distance separat- 
 ing the projectile from the lunar surface "might" be 
 reckoned at about 2,833 miles. 
 
PBELIMINARY CHAPTER. 157 
 
 It eaded with this double hypothesis: either the at- 
 traction of the moon would draw it to herself, and the 
 travelers thus attain their end ; or that the projectile, 
 held in one immutable orbit, would gravitate around the 
 lunar disc to all eternity. 
 
 With such alternatives, what would be the fate of the 
 travelers? Certainly they had food for some time. But 
 supposing they did succeed in their rash enterprise, how 
 would they return? Could they ever return? Should 
 they hear from them? These questions, debated by the 
 most learned pens of the day, strongly engrossed the 
 public attention. 
 
 It is advisable here to make a remark which ought to 
 be well considered by hasty observers. When a purely 
 speculative discovery is announced to the publiq, it can- 
 not be done with too much prudence. No one is obliged 
 to discover either a planet, a comet, or a satellite; and 
 whoever makes a mistake in such a case exposes himself 
 justly to the derision of the mass. Far better is it to 
 wait; and that is what the impatient Joseph T. Maston 
 should have done before sending this telegram forth to 
 the world, which, according to his idea, told the whole 
 result of the enterprise. Indeed this telegram contained 
 two sorts of errors, as was proved eventually. First, 
 errors of observation, concerning the distance of the pro- 
 jectile from the surface of the moon, for on the 11th of 
 December it was impossible to see it; and what Joseph T. 
 Maston had seen, or thought he saw, could not have been 
 the projectile of the Columbiad. Second, errors of theory 
 on the fate in store for the said projectile; for in making 
 it a satellite of the moon, it was putting it in direct con- 
 tradiction to all mechanical laws. 
 
 One single hypothesis of the observers of Long's Peak 
 coald ever be realized^ that which foresaw the cag^ of the 
 
158 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 travelers (if still alive) uniting their efforts with the Innar 
 attraction to attain the surface of the disc. 
 
 Now these men, as clever as they were daring, had 
 survived the terrible shock consequent on their departure, 
 and it is their journey in the projectile car which is here 
 related in. its most dramatic as well as in its most singu- 
 lar details. This' recital will destroy many illusions and 
 surmises; but it will give a true idea of the singular 
 changes in store for such an enterprise; it will bring out 
 the scientific instincts of Barbicane, the industrious re- 
 sources of Nicholl, and the audacious humor of Michel 
 Ardan. Besides this, it will prove that their worthy 
 friend, Joseph T. Maston, was wasting his -time, while 
 leaning over the gigantic telescope he watched the course 
 of thfi moon through the starry space. 
 
£EOM SOM. PAST 10 TO MIM. PAST 10 P. M. 159 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FEOM TWENTY MINUTES PAST T^ TO E0BTT-8EVBN MIN- 
 UTES PAST TEN P. M. 
 
 As TEN o'clock strnck, Michel Ardan, Barbicane, and 
 Nicholl, took leave of the numerons friends they were 
 leaving on the earth. The two dogs, destined to propagate 
 the canine race oh the Innar continents, were already 
 shut up in the projectile. 
 
 The three travelers approached the orifice of the enor- 
 mous cast-iron tube, and a crane let theoi down to the 
 conical top of the projectile. There, an opening made 
 for the purpose gave them access to the aluminium car. 
 The tackle belonging to the crane being hauled from 
 outside, the mouth of the Columbiad was instantly dis- 
 encumbered of its last supports. 
 
 Nicholl, once introduced with his companions inside 
 the projectile, began to close the opening by means of 
 a strong plate, held in position by powerful screws. 
 Other plates, closely fitted, covered the lenticular glasses, 
 and the travelers, hermetically enclosed in their metal 
 prison, were plunged in profound darkness. 
 
 "And now, my dear companions," said Michel Ardan, 
 "let us make ourselves at home; I am a domesticated 
 man and strong in housekeeping. We are bound to make 
 the best of our new lodgings, and make ourselves com- 
 fortable. And first let us try and see a little. Gas was 
 not invented for moles." 
 
 So saying, the tjionghtless fellow lit a match by strik- 
 
160 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 ing it on the sole of his boot; and approached the burnei 
 fixed to the receptacle, in which the carbonized hydrogen, 
 stored at high pressure, sufficed for the lighting and 
 warming of the projectile for a hundred and forty-four 
 hours, or six days and six nights. The gas caught fire, 
 and thus lighted the projectile looked like a comfortable 
 room with thickly padded walls, furnished with a circular 
 divan, and a roof rounded in the shape of a dome. 
 
 The objects it contained, arms, instruments, and uten- 
 sils securely fastened against the rounds of wadding, 
 could bear the shock of departure with impunity. 
 Humanly speaking, every possible precaution had been 
 taken to bring this rash experiment to a successful 
 termination. 
 
 Michel Ardan examined everything, and declared him- 
 self satisfied with his installation. 
 
 "It is a prison," said he, "but a traveling prison; and, 
 with the right of putting my nose to the window, I could 
 well stand a lease of a hundred years. You smile, Barbi- 
 cane. Have you any arridre-pensee? Do you say to your- 
 self, 'This prison may be our tomb?' Tomb, perhaps; 
 still I would not change it for Mahomet's, which floats in 
 space, but never advances an inch!" 
 
 While Michel Ardan was speaking, Barbicane and 
 NichoU were making their last preparations. 
 
 NichoU's chronometer marked twenty minutes past 
 ten P.M. when the three travelers were finally enclosed in 
 their projectile^ This chronometer was set within the 
 tenth of a second by that of Murchison the engineer. 
 Barbicane consulted it. 
 
 "My friends," said he, "it is twenty minutes past ten. 
 At forty-seven minutes past ten Murchison will launch 
 the electric spark on the wire which communicates with 
 the charge of the Columbiad. At that precise moment 
 we shall leave our spheroid. Thus we have still twenty* 
 seven minates to remain on the earth." 
 
FROM SOM. FAST 10 TO 4.7M. PAST 10 P. M 161 
 
 "Twenty-six minutes thirteen seconds," replied the 
 methodical Nicholl. 
 
 "Well!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, in a good-humored 
 tone, "much may be done in twenty-six minutes. The 
 gravest questions of morals and politics may be discussed, 
 and even solved. Twenty-six minutes well employed are 
 worth more than twenty-six years in which nothing is 
 done. Some seconds of a Pascal or a Newton are more 
 precious than the whole existence of a crowd of raw sim- 
 pletons " 
 
 "And you conclude, then, you everlasting talker?" 
 asked Barbicane. 
 
 "I conclude that we have twenty-'six minutes left," 
 replied Ardan. 
 
 "Twenty-four only," said Nicholl. 
 
 "Well, twenty-four, if you like, mj noble captain," 
 said Ardan; "twenty-four minutes in which to investi- 
 gate " 
 
 "Michel," said Barbicane, "during the passage we 
 shall have plenty of time to investigate the most difiScuIt 
 questions. For the present we must occupy ourselves 
 with our departure." 
 
 "Are we not ready?" 
 
 "Doubtless; but there are still some precautions to be 
 taken, to deaden as much as possible the first shock." 
 
 "Have we not the water-cushions placed between the 
 partition-breaks, whose elasticity will suflSciently protect 
 ns?" 
 
 "I hope so, Michel," replied Barbicane gently, "but I 
 am not sure." ' 
 
 "Ah, the joker!" exclaimed Michel Ardan. '"He 
 hopes! — He is not sure! — and he ^aits for tne moment 
 when we are encased to make this deplorable admission! 
 J beg to be allowed to get out!" 
 
 "And how?" asked Barbicane, 
 
163 FROM THE EABTE TO THE MOON. 
 
 "Humph!" said Michel Ardan, "it is not easy; we are 
 in the train, and' the guard's whistle will sound befor* 
 twenty-four minutes are over." 
 
 "Twenty," said NichoU. 
 
 For some moments the three travelers looked at each 
 other. Then they began to examine the objects impris- 
 oned with them. 
 
 . "Everything is in its place," said Barbicane. "We 
 have now to decide how we can best place ourselves to 
 resist the shock. Position cannot be an indifferent mat- 
 ter; and we must, as much as possible, prevent the rush 
 of blood to the head." 
 
 "Just so," said NichoU. 
 
 "Then," replied Michel Ardan, ready to suit the action 
 to the word, "let hs put our heads down and our feet in 
 the air, like the clowns in the grand circus." 
 
 "No," said Barbicane, "let us stretch ourselves on our 
 sides; we shall resist the shock better that way. Bemem- 
 ber that, when the projectile starts, it matters little 
 whether we are in it or before it; it amounts to much the 
 same thing." 
 
 "If it is only 'much the same thing,' I may cheer 
 up," said Michel Ardan. 
 
 "Do you approve of my idea, NichoU?" asked Barbi- 
 cane. 
 
 "Entirely," replied the captain. "We've still thirteen 
 minutes and a half." 
 
 "That Nioholl is not a man," exclaimed Michel; "he 
 is a chronometer with seconds, an escape, and eight 
 holes." 
 
 But his companions were not listening; they were tak- 
 ing up their last positions with the most perfect coolness. 
 They were like two methodical travelers in a car, seeking 
 to place themselves as comfortably as possible. 
 
 yin might well ask ourselves of what materials are ih» 
 
FROM SOM. PAST 10 TO Ji.7M. PAST 10 P. M. 163 
 
 hearts of these Americans made, to whom the approach 
 of the most frightful danger added no pulsation. 
 
 Three thick and solidly-made couches had heen placed 
 in the projectile. Nichc'l and Barbicane placed them in 
 the center of the disc forming the floor. There the three 
 travelers were io stretch themselves some moments be- 
 fore their departure. 
 
 During this time, Ardan, not being able to keep still, 
 tnrned in his narrow prison like a wild beast in a ca'ge, 
 chatting with his friends, speaking to the dogs Diana 
 and Satellite, to whom, as may be seen, he had given sig- 
 nificant names. 
 
 "Ah, Diana! Ah, Satellite!" he exclaimed, tearing 
 them; "so you are going to show the moon-dogs the good 
 habits of the dogs of the earth! That will do honor to 
 the canino race! If eVer we do come down again, I wilj 
 bring a croiss type of 'moon-dogs,' which will make a 
 stir!" 
 
 "If there are dogs in the moon," said Barbicane. 
 
 "There are," said Michel Ardan, "just as there are 
 horses, cows, donkeys, and chickens. I bet that we shall 
 find chickens." 
 
 "A hundred dollars we shall find none!" said Nicholl. 
 
 "Done, my captain!" replied Ardan, clasping Nicholl'a 
 hand. "But, by and bye, you have already lost three 
 bets with our president, as the necessary funds for the 
 enterprise have been found, as the operation of casting 
 has been successful, and lastly, as the Columbiad has 
 been loaded without accident, six thousand dollars." 
 
 "Yes," replied Nicholl. "Thirty-seven minutes six 
 seconds past ten." 
 
 "It is understood, captain. Well, before another 
 quarter of an hour you will have to count nine thousand 
 dollars to the president; four thousand because the Column 
 
164 FROM THE EABTE TO TEE MOOHT. 
 
 biad will not burst, and five thonsand because the projec- 
 tile will rise more than six miles in tbe air." 
 
 "I have the dollars," replied Nicholl, slapping the 
 pocket of his coat. I only ask to be allowed to pay." 
 
 "Come, Nicholl, I see that yon are a man of method, 
 which I conld never be; but indeed you have mdde a 
 series of bets of very little advantage to yourself, allow 
 me to tell you." 
 
 "And why?" asked Nicholl. 
 
 "Because, if you gain the first, the Oolumbiad will 
 have burst, and the projectile with it; and Barbicane will 
 no longer be there to reimburse your dollars." 
 
 ''My stake is deposited at the bank in Baltimore," re- 
 plied Barbicane simply; "and if Nicholl is not there, it 
 will go to his heirs." 
 
 "Ah, you practical men!" exclaimed Michel Ardan; 
 "I admire you the more for not being able to understand 
 you." 
 
 "Forty-two minutes past ten!" said Nicholl. 
 
 "Only ISve minutes more!" answered Barbicane. 
 
 "Yes, five little minutes!" replied Michel ~~Ardan; 
 "and we are enclosed in a projectile, at the bottom of a 
 gun 900 feet long! And under this projectile are rammed 
 400,000 pounds of gun-cotton, which is equal to 1,600,- 
 000 pounds of ordinary powder! And friend Murchison, 
 with his chronometer in hand, his eye fixed on the needle, 
 his finger on the electric apparatus, is counting the 
 seconds preparatory to launching us into interplanetary 
 space." 
 
 "Enough, Michel, enough!" said Barbicane, in a 
 serious voice; '^et us prepare. A few instants alone 
 separate us from an eventful moment. One clasp of the 
 hand, my friends." 
 
 "Yes," exclaimed Michel Ardan, more moved than he 
 
FSOM SOM. PAST 10 TO i7M. PAST 10 P. M. 163 
 
 wished to appear; and the three bold companions were 
 united in a last embrace. 
 
 "God preserve us!" said the religious Barbicane. 
 
 Michel Ardan and Nicholl stretched themselves on the 
 couches placed in the center of the disc. 
 
 "Forty-seven minutes past ten!" murmured the cap- 
 tain. 
 
 "Twenty seconds more!" Barbicane quickly put out 
 the gas and lay down by his companions, and the profound 
 silence was only broken by the ticking of the chronometer 
 marking the seconds. 
 
 Suddenly a dreadful shock was felt, and the projectile, 
 under the force of six billions of litres of gas, developed 
 by the combustion of pyroxyle, mounted into space. 
 
166 FROM THE EABTH TO TEE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FIRST HALF-HOUH. 
 
 What had happened? What effect had this frightful 
 shock produced? Had the ingenuity of the constructors 
 of the projectile obtained any happy result? Had the 
 shock been deadened, thanks to the springs, the four 
 plugs, the water-cushions, and the partition-breaks? 
 Had they been able to subdue the frightful pressure of 
 the initiatory speed of more than 11,000 yards, which was 
 enough to traverse Paris or New York in a second? This 
 was evidently the question suggested to the thousand 
 spectators of this moving scene. They forgot the aim of 
 the journey, and thought only of the travelers. And if 
 one among them — Joseph T. Maston for example — could 
 have cast one glimpse into the projectile, what would he 
 have seen? 
 
 Nothing then. The darkness was profound. But its 
 cylindro-conical partitions had resisted wonderfully. 
 Not a rent or a dent anywhere! The wonderful projectile 
 was not even heated under the intense deflagration of the 
 powder, nor liquefied, as they seemed to fear, in a shower 
 of aluminium. 
 
 The interior showed but little disorder; indeed, only a 
 few objects had been violently thrown toward the roof; 
 but the most important seemed not to have suffered from 
 the shock at all; their fixtures were intact. 
 
 On the movable disc, sunk down to the bottom by the 
 smashing of the partition-breaks and the escape of the 
 water, three bodies lay apparently" lifeless. Barbioane, 
 
THE FIB8T HALb'-HOdR. 167 
 
 NicboU, and Michel Ardan — did they still breathe? or 
 was the projectile nothing now but a metal cofiBn, bear- 
 ing three corpses into space? 
 
 Some minutes after the departure of the projectile, one_ 
 of the bodies moved, shook its arms, lifted its head, andf 
 finally succeeded in getting on its knees. It was Michel 
 Ardan. He felt himself all over, gave a sonorous "Hem!" 
 and then said : 
 
 "Michel Ardan is whole. How about the others? 
 
 The courageous Frenchman tried to rise, but could not 
 stand. His head swam, from the rush of blood; he was 
 blind; he was like a drunken man. 
 
 "Bur-r!" said he. "It produces the same effect as two 
 bottles of Gorton, though perhaps less agreeable to swal- 
 low." Then, passing his hand several times across his 
 forehead and rubbing his temples, he called in a firm 
 voice : 
 
 "Nicholl! Barbicane!" 
 
 He waited anxiously. No answer; not even a sigh to 
 show that the hearts of his companions were still beating. 
 He called again. The same silence. 
 
 "The devil!" he exclaimed. They look as if they had 
 fallen from a fifth story on their heads. Bah!" he added, 
 with that imperturbable confidence which nothing could 
 check, "if a Frenchman can get on his knees, two Ameri- 
 cans ought to be able to get on their feet. But first let 
 us light up." 
 
 Ardan felt the tide of life return by degrees. His 
 blood became calm, and returned to its accustomed circu- 
 lation. Another effort restored his equilibrium. He 
 succeeded in rising, drew a match from his pocket, and 
 approaching the burner lighted it. The receiver had not 
 suffered at all. The gas had not escaped. Besides, the 
 smell would have .betrayed it; and in that case Michel 
 Ardan could not have carried a lighted match with im- 
 
168 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOOK 
 
 pnnity through the space filled with hydrogen. ' The gas 
 mixing with the air would have produced a detonating 
 mixture, and the explosion would have finished what the 
 shock had perhaps begun. When the burner was lit, 
 Ardan leaned over the bodies of his companions: they 
 were lying one on the other, an inert mass, NicholJ above, 
 Barbicane underneath. 
 
 Ardan lifted the captain, propped him up against the 
 divan, and began to rub vigorously. This means, used 
 with judgment, restored Nicholl, who opened his eyes, 
 and instantly recovering his presence of mind, seized 
 Ardan's hand and looked aronnd him, 
 
 "And Barbicane?" said he. 
 
 "Bach in turn," replied Michel Ardan. "I began 
 with you, Nicholl, because you were on the top. Now 
 let us look to Barbicane." Saying which, Ardan and 
 Nicholl raised the president of the Gun Club and laid 
 him on the divan. He seemed to have suffered more 
 than either of his companions; he was bleeding, but 
 Nicholl was reassured by finding that the hemorrhage came 
 from a slight wound on the shoulder, a mere graze, which 
 he bound up carefully. 
 
 Still, Barbicane was a long time coming to himself, 
 which frightened his friends, who did not spare friction. 
 
 "He breathes though," said Nicholl, putting his ear to 
 the chest of the wounded man. 
 
 "Yes," replied Ardan, "he breathes like a man who 
 has some notion of that daily operation. Eub, Nicholl; 
 let us rub harder." And the two improvised practitioners 
 worked so hard and so well that Barbicane recovered his 
 senses. He opened his eyes, sat up, took his two friends 
 by the hands, and his first words were — 
 
 "Nicholl, are we moving?" 
 
 Nicholl and Barbicane looked at each other; they had 
 not yet troubled themselves about the projectile; their 
 first thought had been for the traveler, not for the car. 
 
THE FIRST EALF-HOUB. 169 
 
 "Well, are we really moving?" repeated Michel Ardan. 
 
 "Or quietly resting on the soil of Florida?" asked 
 NichoU. 
 
 "Or at the bottom of the Gnlf of Mexico?" added 
 Michel Ardan. 
 [ "What an idea!" exclaimed the president. 
 
 And this donble hypothesis suggested by his compan- 
 ions had the effect of recalling him to his senses. In any 
 case they conld not decide on the position of the projec- 
 tile. Its apparent immovability, and the want of com- 
 mnnication with the outside, prevented them from solv- 
 ing the question. Perhaps the projectile was unwinding 
 its course through space. Perhaps a|ter a short rise it 
 had fallen upon the earth, or even in the Gulf of Mexico 
 — a fall which the narrowness of the peninsula of Florida 
 would render not impossible. 
 
 The case was serious, the problem interesting, and one 
 that must be solved as soon as possible. Thus, highly 
 excited, Barbicane's moral energy triumphed over physi- 
 cal weakness, and he rose to his feet. He listened. Out- 
 side was perfect silence; but the thick padding was 
 enough to intercept all sounds coming from the earth. 
 But one circumstance struck Barbicane, viz., that the 
 temperature inside the projectile was singularly high. 
 The president drew a thermometer from its case and 
 consulted it. The instrument showed 81° Fahr. 
 
 "Yes," he exclaimed, "yes, we are moving! This 
 stifling heat, penetrating through the partitions of the 
 projectile, is produced by its friction on the atmospheric 
 strata. It will soon diminish, because we are already 
 floating in space, and after having been nearly stifled, 
 we shall have to suffer intense cold. 
 
 "What!" said Michel Ardan. "According to your 
 showing, Barbicane, we are already beyond the limits of 
 the terrestrial atmosphere?" ^ 
 
170 PROM T3B EABTM TO TME MOON". 
 
 "Without a doubt, Michel. Listen to me. It is fifty- 
 five minutes past ten; we have been gone about eight 
 minutes; and if our initiatory speed has not been checked 
 by the friction, six seconds vcould be enough for us to 
 pass through the forty miles of atmosphere which sur- 
 rounds the globe." 
 
 "Just so," replied Nicholl; "but in what proportion 
 do you estimate the diminution of speed by friction?" 
 
 "In the proportion of one-third, Nicholl. This dimi- 
 nution is considerable, but according to my calculations 
 it is nothing less. If, then, we had an initiatory speed of 
 13,000 yards, on leaving the atmosphere this speed would 
 be reduced to 9,165 yards. In any case we have already 
 through this interval, and " 
 
 "And then," said Michel Ardan, "friend Nicholl has 
 lost his two bets: four thousand dollars because the 
 Columbiad did not burst; five thousand dollars because 
 the projectile has risen more than six miles. Now, 
 Nicholl, pay up." 
 
 "Let us prove it first," said the captain, "and we will 
 pay afterward. It is quite possible that Barbicane's 
 reasoning is correct, and that I have lost my nine thou- 
 sand dollars. But a new hypothesis presents itself to my 
 mind, and it annuls the wager." 
 
 "What is that?" asked Barbicane quickly. 
 
 "The hypothesis that, for some reason or other, fire was 
 never set to the powder, and we have not started at all." 
 
 "My goodness, captain," exclaimed Michel Ardan, 
 "that hypothesis is worthy of my brain! It cannot be a 
 serious one. For have we not been half annihilated by 
 the shock? Did I not recall you to life? Is not the 
 president's shoulder still bleeding from the blow it has 
 received?" 
 
 "Granted," replied Nicholl; "but one question." 
 
 "Well, captain?" 
 
THE FIRST HALF-HO UB. 171 
 
 "Did yon hear the detonation, which certainly ought 
 to be lond?" 
 
 "No," replied Ardan, much surprised; "certainly I 
 did not hear the detonation." 
 
 "And you, Barbicane?" 
 
 "Nor I, either."^ 
 
 "Very well," said NichoU. 
 
 "Well now," murmured the president "why did we 
 not hear the detonation?" 
 
 The three friends looked at each other with a discon- 
 certed air. It was quite an inexplicable phenomenon. 
 The projectile had started, and consequently there must 
 have been a detonation. 
 
 "Let us first find out where we are," said Barbicane, 
 "and let down the panel." 
 
 This very simple operation was soon accomplished. 
 
 The nuts which held the bolts to the outer plates of 
 the right-hand scuttle gave way under the pressure of the 
 English wrench. These bolts were pushed outside, and 
 buffers covered with India-rubber stopped up the holes 
 which let them through. Immediately the outer plate 
 fell back upon its hinges like a porthole, and the lenticu- 
 lar glass which closed the scuttle appeared. A similar 
 one was let into the thick partition on the opposite side 
 of the projectile, another in the top of the dome, and 
 finally, a fourth in the middle of the base. They could, 
 therefore, make observations in four different directions: 
 the firmament by the side and most direct windows, the 
 earth or the moon by the upper and under openings in 
 the projectile. 
 
 Barbicane and his two companions immediately rushed 
 to the uncovered window. But it was lit by no ray of 
 light. Profound darkness surrounded them, which, how- 
 ever, did not prevent the the president from exclaiming: 
 
 "No, my friends, we have not fallen \m^ ^pon tha 
 
172 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOOIT. 
 
 earth; no, nor are we submerged in the Gulf of Mexico. 
 Yes! we are mounting into space. See those stars shin- 
 ing in the night, and that impenetrable darkness heaped 
 up between the earth and us!" 
 
 "Hurrah! hurrah!" exclaimed Michel Ardaii and 
 Nieholl in one voice. 
 
 Indeed, this thiols darkness proved that the projectile 
 had left the earth, for the soil, brilliantly lit by the moon- 
 beams, would have been visible to the travelers, if they 
 had been lying on its surface. This darkness also showed 
 that the projectile had passed the atmospheric strata, for 
 the diffused light spread in the air would have been re- 
 flected on the metal walls, which reflection was wanting. 
 This light would have lit the window, and the window 
 was dark. Doubt was no longer possible; the travelers 
 had left the earth. 
 
 "I have lost," said Nicholl. 
 
 "I congratulate you," replied Ardan. 
 
 "Here are the nine thousand dollars," said the captain, 
 drawing a roll of paper dollars from his pocket. 
 
 "Will you have a receipt for it?" asked Barbicane, 
 taking the sum. 
 
 "If you do not mind," answered Nicholl; "it is more 
 bnsinesa-like." 
 
 And coolly and seriously, as if he had been at his 
 strong-box, the president drew forth his notebook, tore 
 out a blank leaf, wrote a proper receipt in pencil, dated 
 and signed it with the usual flourish,* and gave it to the 
 captain, who carefully placed it in his pocketbook, 
 Michel Ardan, taking off his hat, bowed to his two com- 
 panions without speaking. So much formality under 
 such circumstances left him speechless. He had never 
 before seen anything so "American." 
 
 This affair settled, Barbicane and Nicholl had returned 
 
 -'■. o I 1^..- - I - r— ■ .-^-1 <J 
 
 » This is a Durely Frenoli habit. 
 
THE FIRST HALF- HO UR. 1 73 
 
 to the window, and were watching the constellations. 
 The stars looked like bright points on the black sky. Bat 
 from that side they could not see the orb of night, which, 
 traveling from east to west, would rise by degrees toward 
 the zenith. Its absence drew the following remark from 
 Ardan : 
 
 "And the moon; will she perchance fail at onr ren- 
 dezvous?" 
 
 "Do not alarm yourself," said Barbicane; "our future 
 globe is at its post, but we cannot see her from this side; 
 let us open the other." 
 
 As Barbicane was about leaving the window to open 
 the opposite scuttle, his attention was attracted by the 
 approach of a brilliant object. It was an enormous disc, 
 whose colossal dimension could not be estimated. Its 
 face, which was turned to the earth, was very bright. 
 One might have thought it a small moon reflecting the 
 light of the large one. She advanced with great speed, 
 and seemed to describe an orbit round the earth, which 
 would intersect the passage of the projectile. This bod;^ 
 revolved upon its axis,|and exhibited the phenonlena of 
 all celestial bodies abandoned in space. 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, "what is that? an- 
 other projectile?"' 
 
 Barbicane did not answer. The appearance of this 
 enormous body surprised and troubled him. A collision 
 was possible, and might be attended with deplorable re- 
 sults; either the projectile would deviate from its path, 
 or a shook, breaking its impetus, might precipitate it to 
 the earth ; or, lastly, it might be irresistibly drawn away 
 by the powerful asteroid. The president caught at a 
 glance the consequences of these three hypotheses, either 
 of which would, one way or the other, bring their experi- 
 ment to an unsuccessful and fatal termination. His com- 
 panions Stood silently looking into space. The object 
 
174 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 grew rapidly as it approached them, and by an optical 
 illusion the projectile seemed to be throwing itself befors 
 it, 
 
 "By Jove!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, "we shall run 
 into one another!" 
 
 Instinctively the travelers drew back. Their dread 
 was great, but it did not last many seconds. The asteroiS 
 passed several hundred yards from the projectile and dis- 
 appeared, not so much from the rapidity of its course, as 
 that its face being opposite the moon, it was suddenly 
 merged into the perfect darkness of space. 
 
 "A happy journey to you," exclaimed Michel Ardan, 
 with a sigh of relief. "Surely infinity of space is large 
 enough for a poor little projectile to walk through with- 
 out fear. Now, what is this portentous globe which 
 nearly struck us?" 
 
 "I know," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "Oh, indeed! you know everything." 
 
 "It is," said Barbicane, "a simple meteorite, but an 
 enormous one, which the attraction of the earth has re- 
 tained as a satellite." 
 
 "Is it possible!" exclaimed Michel Ardan; "the earth 
 then has two moons like Neptune?" 
 . "Yes, my friend, two moons, though it passes generally 
 for haviiig only one; but this second-moon is so small, 
 and its speed so great, that the inhabitants of the earth 
 cannot see it. It was by lioticing disturbances that a 
 French astronomer, M. Petit, was able to determine the 
 existence of this second satellite and calculate its elements. 
 According to his observations, this meteorite will accom- 
 plish its revolution round the earth in three hours and 
 twenty minutes, which implies a wonderful rate of speed." 
 
 "Do all astronomers admit the existence of this satel- 
 lite?" asked Nicholl. 
 
 "No," replied Barbicane; "but if, like us, they had 
 
THE FIRST EALF-HO UB. 175 
 
 met it, they could no longer doubt it. Indeed, I think 
 that this meteorite, which, had it struck the projectile, 
 would have much embarrassed us, will give us the means 
 of deciding what our position. in space is." 
 
 "How?" said Ardan. 
 
 "Because its distance is known, and when we met it, 
 we were exactly foui* thousand six hundred and fifty miles 
 from the surface of the terrestrial globe. 
 
 "More than two thousand French leagues," exclaimed 
 Michel Ardan. "That beats the express trains of the 
 -pitiful globe called the earth." 
 
 "I should think so," replied Nicholl, consulting his 
 chronometer; "it is eleven o'clock, and it is only thirteen 
 minutes since we left the American Continent." 
 
 "Only thirteen minutes?" said Barbicane. 
 
 "Yes," said Nicholl; "and if our ini'tiatory speed of 
 twelve thousand yards has been kept up, we shall have 
 made about twenty thousand miles in the hour." 
 
 "That is all very well, my friends," said the president, 
 "but the insoluble question still remains. Why did we 
 not hear the detonation of the Columbiad?" 
 
 For want of an answer the conversation dropped, and 
 Barbicane began thoughtfully to let down the shutter of 
 the second side. He succeeded; and. through the un- 
 covered glass the moon filled the projectile with a brilliant 
 light. Nicholl, as an economical man, put out the gas, 
 now useless, and whose brilliancy prevented any observa- 
 tion of the interplanetary space. 
 
 The lunar disc shone with wonderful purity. Her rays, 
 no longer filtered through the vapory atmosphere of the 
 terrestrial globe, shone through the glass, filling the air 
 in the interior of the projectile with silvery reflections. 
 The black curtain of the firmament in reality heightened 
 the moon's brilliancy, which in this void of ether un- 
 favorable to difEusion did not eclipse the neighboring 
 
176 , FROM THE EABTH TO THE MOON 
 
 stars. The heavens, thus seen, presented quite a tmit 
 aspect, and one which the human eye could never dream 
 of. One may conceive the interest with which these bold 
 men watched the orb of night, the great aim of their 
 journey. 
 
 In its motion the earth's satellite was insensibly nearing 
 the zenith, the mathematical point which it ought to 
 attain ninety-six hours later. Her mountains, her plains, 
 every projection was as clearly discernible to their eyes as 
 if they were observing it from some spot upon the earth ; 
 but its light was developed through space with wonderful 
 intensity. The disc shone like ,a platinum mirror. Of 
 the earth flying from under their feet, the travelers had 
 lost all recollection. 
 
 It was Captain Nicholl who first recalled their attention 
 to the vanishing globe. 
 
 "Yes," said Michel Ardan, "do not let us be ungrate- 
 ful to it. Since we are leaving our country, let our last 
 looks be directed to it. I wish to see the earth once more 
 before it is quite hidden from my eyes." 
 
 To satisfy his companions, Barbicane began to uncover 
 the window at the bottom of the projectile, which would 
 allow them to observe the earth direct. The disc, which 
 the force of the projection had beaten down to the base, 
 was removed, not without diflBculty. Its fragments, 
 placed carefully against the wall, might serve again upon 
 occasion. Then a circular gap appeared, nineteen inches 
 in diameter, hollowed out of the lower part of the projec- 
 tile. A glass cover, six inches thick and strengthened 
 with upper fastenings, closed it tightly. Beneath was 
 fixed an aluminium plate, held in place by bolts. The 
 screws being undone, and the bolts let go, the plate fell 
 down, and visible communication was established between 
 the interior and the exterior. 
 
THE FIRST EALF-EOUB. , nt 
 
 Michel Ardan knelt by the glass. It was cloudy, seem- 
 ingly opaque. 
 
 "Well!" he exclaimed, "and the earth?" 
 "The earth?" said Barbicane. "There it is." 
 "What! that little thread; that silver crescent?" 
 "Doubtless, Michel. In four days, when the moon 
 will be full, at the very time we shall reach it, the earth 
 will be new, and will only appear to us as a slender cres- 
 cent which will soon disappear, and for some days will 
 be enveloped in utter darkness." 
 
 "That the earth?" repeated Michel Ardan, looking 
 with all his eyes at the thin slip of his native planet. 
 
 The explanation given by President Barbicane was 
 •correct. The earth, with respect to the projectile, was 
 entering its last phase. It was in its octant, and showed 
 a crescent finely traced on the dark background of the 
 sky. Its light, rendered bluish by the thick strata of the 
 atmosphere was less intense than that of the crescent 
 moon, but it was of considerable dimensions, and looked 
 like an enormous arch stretched across the firmament. 
 Some parts brilliantly lighted, especially on its concave 
 part, showed the presence of high mountains, often dis- 
 appearing behind thick spots, which are never seen on 
 the lunar disc. They were rings of clouds placed con- 
 centrically round the terrestrial globe. 
 
 While the travelers were trying 'td pierce the profound 
 darkness, a brilliant cluster of shooting stars burst upon 
 their eyes. Hundreds of meteorites, ignited by the fric, 
 tion of the atmosphere, irradiated the shadow of the lumiij 
 nous train, and lined the cloudy parts of the disc with theiif 
 fire. At this period the earth was in its perihelium, and 
 the month of December is so propitious to these shooting 
 stars, that astronomers have counted as many as twenty- 
 four thousand in an hour. But Michel Ardan, disdaining 
 scientific reasonings, preferred thinking that the earth 
 
178 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 was thns saluting the departure of her three children with 
 her most brilliant fireworks. 
 
 Indeed this was all they saw of the globe lost in the 
 solar world, rising and setting to the great planets like a 
 simple morning or evening star! This globe, where they 
 had left all their affections, was nothing more than a 
 fugitive crescent! 
 
 Long did the three friends look without speaking, 
 though united in heart, while the projectile sped onward 
 with an ever-decreasing speed. Then an irresistible 
 drowsiness crept over their brain. Was it weariness both 
 of body and mind? No doubt; for after the over-excite- 
 ment of those last hours passed upon earth, reaction was 
 inevitable. 
 
 "Well," said Nicholl, "since we must sleep, let us 
 sleep." 
 
 And stretching themselves on their conches, they were 
 all three soon in a profound slumber. 
 
 But they had not forgotten themselves more than a 
 quarter of an hour, when Barbicane sat up suddenly, and 
 rousing his companions with a loud voice, exclaiiied — 
 
 "I have found it!" 
 
 "What have you found?" asked Michel Ardan, jump- 
 ing from his bed. 
 
 "The reason why we did not hear the detonation of the 
 Columbiad." 
 
 "And it is—?" said Nicholl. 
 
 "Because our projectile traveled faster than the 
 sound!" 
 
TBBm PLAOE Off SHELTER X'i^ 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THEIK PLACE OF SHELTER. 
 
 This curious but certainly correct explanation once 
 given, the three friends returned to their slumbers. Could 
 they have found a calmer or more peaceful spot to sleep 
 in? On the earth, houses, towns, cottages, and country 
 feel every shock given to the exterior of the globe. On 
 sea, the vessels rocked by the waves are still in motion; 
 in the air, the balloon oscillates incessantly on the fluid 
 strata of divers densities. This projectile alone, floating 
 in perfect space, in the midst of perfect silence, offered 
 perfect repose. 
 
 Thus the sleep of our adventurous travelers might have 
 been indefinitely prolonged, if an unexpected noise had 
 not awakened them at abou seven o'clock in the morn- 
 ing of the 3d of ©ecember, eight hours after their depart- 
 ure. 
 
 This noise was a very natural barking, 
 
 "The dogs! it is the dogs!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, 
 rising at once. 
 
 "They are hungry," said Nicholl. 
 
 "By Jove!" replied Michel, "we have forgotten them." 
 
 "Where are they?" asked Barbicane. 
 
 They looked and found one of the animals crouched 
 under the divan. Terrified and shaken by the initiatory 
 shook, it had remained in the corner till its voice returned 
 with the pangs of hunger. It was the amiable Diana, 
 still very confused, who crept out of her retreat, though 
 not without much persuasion, Michel Ardan encouraging 
 her with most gracious words. 
 
180 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOW. 
 
 "Come, Diana," said he; "come, my girl! then whose 
 destiny will be marked in the cynegetic annals; thou 
 whom the pagans would have given as companion to the 
 god Anubis, and Christians as friend to St. Koch; thou 
 who art rushing into interplanetary space, and wilt per- 
 ''haps be the Eve o£ all Selenite dogs ! come, Diana, come 
 here." 
 
 Diana, flattered or not, advanced by degrees, uttering 
 plaintive cries. 
 
 "Good," said Barbicane; "I see Eve, but where is 
 Adam?" 
 
 "Adam.'" replied Michel; "Adam cannot be far off; 
 he is there somewhere; we must call him. Satellite! 
 here. Satellite!" 
 
 But Satellite did not appear. Diana would not leave 
 ofE howling. They found, however, that she was not 
 bruised, and they gave her a pie, which silenced her 
 complaints. As to Satellite, he seemed quite lost. They 
 had to hunt a long time before finding him in one of the 
 upper compartments of the projectile, whither some un- 
 accountable shock must have violently hurled him. The 
 poor beast, much hurt, was in a piteous state. 
 
 "The devil!" said Michel. 
 
 They brought the unfortunate dog down with great care. 
 Its skull had been broken against the roof, and it seemed 
 unlikely that he could recover from such a shock. Mean- 
 while, he was stretched comfortably on a cushion. Once 
 there, he heaved a sigh. 
 
 "We will take care of you," said Michel; "we are re- 
 sponsible for your existence: ' I would rather lose an arm 
 than a paw of my poor Satellite." 
 
 Saying which, he ofEered some water to the wounded 
 dog, who swallowed it with avidity. 
 
 This attention paid, the travelers watched the earth 
 and the moon attentively. The earth was now only dis- 
 
THEIR PLACE OF SHELTER. 181 
 
 cernible by a cloudy disc ending in a crescent, rather more 
 contracted than that of the previous evening; but its 
 -jBxpause was still enormous, compared with that of the 
 moon, which was approaching nearer and nearer to a per- 
 fect circle. 
 
 "By Jove!" said Michel Ardan, "I am really sorry that 
 we did not start when the earth was full, that is to say, 
 when our globe was in opposition to the sun." 
 
 "Why?" asked NichoU. 
 . "Because we should have seen our continents and seas 
 in a new light — the first resplendent under the solar 
 rays, the latter cloudy as represented on some maps of 
 the world. I should like to have seen those poles of the 
 earth on which the eye of man has never yet rested. 
 
 "I dare say," replied Barbicane; "but if the earth had 
 heery full, the moon would have been new; that is to say, 
 invisible, because of the rays of the sun. It is better for 
 ns to see the destination we wish to reach, than the point 
 of departure." 
 
 "You are right, Barbicane," replied Captain Nicholl; 
 "and, besides, when we have reached the moon, we shall 
 have time during the long lunar nights to consider at onr 
 leisure the globe on which our likenesses swarm." 
 
 "Our likenesses!" exclaimed Michel Ardan; "they are 
 no more our likenesses than the Senenites are! We in- 
 habit a new worl'd, peopled by ourselvesi — the projectile! 
 '' am Barbicane's likeness, and Barbicane is Nicholl's. 
 Beyond us, around ns, human nature is at an end, and 
 we are the only population of this microcosm until we 
 become pure Selenites. 
 
 "In about eighty-eight hours," replied the captain. 
 
 "Which means to say?" asked Michel Ardan. . 
 
 "That it is half-past eight," replied Nicholl. 
 
 "Very well," retorted Michel, "then it is impossible 
 
182 ' FROM TEE EABTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 for me to find even the shadow of a reason why we should 
 not go to breakfast." 
 
 Indeed, the inhabitants of the new star could not live 
 without eating, and their stomachs were suffering from 
 the imperious laws of hunger. Michel Ardan, as a 
 Frenchman, was declared chief cook, an important func- 
 tion, which raised no rival. The gas gave sufficient heat 
 for the culinary apparatus, and tha provision-box fur- 
 nished the elements of this first feast. 
 
 The breakfast began with three bowls of excellent soup, 
 thanks to the liquefaction in hot water of those precious 
 cakes of Liebig, prepared from the best parts of the 
 ruminants of the Pampas. To the soup succeeded some 
 beefsteaks, compressed by an hydraalic press, as tender 
 and succulent as if bropght straight from the kitchen of 
 an English eating-house. Michel, who was imaginative, 
 maintained that they were even "red." 
 
 Preserved vegetables ("fresher than nature," said the 
 amiable Michel) succeeded the dish of meat; and was 
 followed by some cups of tea with bread and butter, after 
 the American fashion. 
 
 The beverage was declared exquisite, and was due to 
 the infusion of the choicest leaves, of which the emperor 
 of Eussia had given some chests for the benefit of the 
 travelers. 
 
 And lastly, to crown the repast, Ardan brought out a 
 fine bottle of Nuits, which was found "by chance" in the 
 provision-box. The three friends drank to the union of 
 the earth and her satellite. 
 
 And, as if he had not already done enough for the 
 generous wine which he had distilled on the slopes of 
 Burgundy, the sun chose to be of the party. At this 
 moment the projectile emerged from the conical shadow 
 cast by the terrestrial globe, and the rays of the radiant 
 orb struck the lower disc of the projectile direct, occa- 
 
TSEIB PLACE OF SHELTER. 183 
 
 sioned by the angle which the moon's orbit makes with 
 that of the earth. 
 
 "The sun!" exolaimed Michel Ardan. 
 
 "No donbtj" replied Barbicane; "I expected it." 
 
 "But," said Michel, "the conical shadow which the 
 earth leaves in space extends beyond the moon?" 
 
 "Ear beyond it, if the atmospheric refraction is not 
 taken into consideration," said Barbicane. "But when 
 the moon is enveloped in this shadow, it is because the 
 centers of the three stars, the sun, the earth, and the' 
 moon, are all in one and the same straight line. Then 
 the nodes coincide with the phases of the moon, and there 
 is an eclipse. If we had started when there was an eclipse of 
 the moon, all our passage would have been in the shadow, 
 which would have been a pity." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because, though we are floating in space, our projec- 
 tile, bathed in the solar rays, will receive their light and 
 heat. It economizes the gas, which is in every respect a 
 good economy." 
 
 Indeed, under these rays which no atmosphere can 
 temper, either in temperature or brilliancy, the projectile 
 grew warm and bright, as if it had passed suddenly from 
 ■winter to summer. The moon above, the sun beneath, 
 ■were inundating it with their fire. 
 
 "It is pleasant here," said Nichol. 
 , "I should think so,"' said Michel Ardan. "With a 
 little earth spread on our aluminium planet we should 
 have green peas in twenty-four hoilrs. 1 ,have but one 
 fear, which is that the walls of the projectile might melt." 
 
 "Calm yourself, my worthy friend," replied Barbicane; 
 "the projectile withstood a very much higher tempera- 
 ture than this as it slid through the strata of the atmos- 
 phere. I should not be surprised if it did not look like a 
 meteor on fire to the eyes of the spectators in Florida." 
 
184 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "But then Joseph T. Maston will think we are roasted!" 
 
 "What astonishes me," said Barbicane, "is that we 
 have not been. That was a danger we had not provided 
 for." ^ 
 
 "I feared it," said Nicholl simply. 
 
 "And you never mentioned it, my sublime captain," 
 exclaimed Michel Ardan, clasping his friend's hand. 
 
 Barbicane now began to settle himself in the projectile 
 as if he was never to leave it. One must remember that 
 this aerial car had a base with a superficies of fifty-four 
 square feet. Its height to the roof was twelve feet. 
 Carefully laid out in the inside, and little encumbered by 
 instruments and traveling utensils, which each had their 
 particular place, it left the three travelers a certain free- 
 dom of movement. The thick window inserted in the 
 bottom could bear any amount of weight, and Barbicane 
 and his companions walked upon it as if it were solid 
 plank; but the sun striking it directly with its rays lit 
 the interior of the projectile from beneath, thus produc- 
 ing singular effects of light. 
 
 They began by investigating the state of their store of 
 water and provisions, neither of which had suffered, 
 thanks to the care taken to deaden the shock. Their pro- 
 visions were abundant, and plentiful enough to last the 
 three travelers for more than a year. Barbicane wished 
 to be cautious, in case the projectile should land on a part 
 of the moon which was utterly barren. As to water and 
 the reserve of brandy, which consisted of fifty gallons, 
 there was only enough for two months; but according to 
 the last observations of astronomers, the moon had a low, 
 dense, and thick atmosphere, at least in the deep valleys, 
 and there springs and streams could not fail. Thus, dur- 
 ing their passagie, and for the first year of their settlement 
 on the lunar continent, these adventurous explorers would 
 suffer neither hunger nor thirst. 
 
THEITt PLACE OF SHELTER. 185 
 
 Now about the air in the projectile. There, too, they 
 were secure. Eeiset and Kegnant's apparatus, intended 
 for the production of oxygen, was supplied with chlorate 
 of potassium for two months. They necessarily consumed 
 a certain quantity of gas, for they were obliged to keep 
 the producing substance at a temperature of above 400°. 
 But there again they were all safe. The apparatus only 
 wanted a little care. But it was not enough to renew the 
 oxygen; they must absorb the carbonic acid produced by 
 expiration. During the last twelve hours the atmosphere 
 of the projectile had become charged with this deleterious 
 gas. Nicholl discovered the state of the air by observing 
 Diana panting painfully. The carbonic acid, by a phe- 
 nomenon similar to that produced in the famous Grotto 
 del Cane, had collected at the bottom of the projectile 
 owing to its weight. Poor Diana, with her head low, 
 would suSer before her masters from the presence of this 
 gas. But Captain Nicholl hastened to remedy this state 
 of things, by placing on the floor several receivers con- 
 taining caustic potash, which he shook about for a time, 
 and this substance, greedy of carbonic acid, soon com- 
 pletely absorbed it, thus purifying the air. 
 
 An inventory of instruments was then begun. The 
 thermometers and barometers had resisted, all but one 
 minimum thermometer, the glass of which was broken. 
 An excellent aneroid was drawn from the wadded box 
 which contained it and hung on the wall. Of course it 
 was only affected by and marked the pressure of the air 
 inside the projectile, but it also showed the quantity of 
 moisture which it contained. At that moment its needle 
 oscillated between 35.34 and 25.08. 
 
 It was fine weather. 
 
 Barbicane had also brought several compasses, which he 
 found intact. One must understand that under present 
 conditions their needles were acting wildly, that is with- 
 
186 i'^ROM TUB MAUTH TO TBS MOON. 
 
 out any constant direction. Indeed, at the distanoe thej 
 were from the earth, the magnetic pole could have no 
 perceptible action upon the apparatus; but the box placed 
 on the lunar disc might perhaps exhibit some strange 
 phenomena. In any case it would be interesting to see 
 whether the earth's satellite submitted like herself to its 
 magnetic influence. 
 
 A hypsometer to measure the heightof the lunarmoun- 
 tains, a sextant to take the height of the sun, glasses 
 which would be useful as they neared the moon, all these 
 instruments were carefully looked over, and pronounced 
 good in spite of the violent shock. 
 
 As to the pickaxes and different tools which were 
 Nicholl's especial choice; as to the sacks of different 
 kinds of grain and shrubs which Michel Ardan hoped to 
 transplant into Selenite ground, they were stowed away 
 in the upper part of the projectile. There was a sort of 
 granary there, loaded with things which the extravagant 
 Frenchman had heaped up. What they were no one 
 knew, and the good-tempered fellow did not explain. 
 Now and then he climbed up by cramp-irons riveted to 
 the walls, but kept the inspection to himself. He 
 arranged and rearranged, he plunged his hand rapidly 
 into certain mysterious boxes, singing in one of the falsest 
 of voices an old French refrain to enliven the situation. 
 
 Barbicane observed with some interest that his guns 
 and other arms had not been damaged. These were im- 
 portant, because, heavily Joaded, they were to help to 
 lessen the fall of the projectile, when drawn by the lunar 
 attraction (after having passed the point of neutral at- 
 traction) on to the moon's surface; a fall which ought to be 
 six times less rapid than it would have been on the earth's 
 surface, thanks to the difference of bujlk. The inspection 
 ended with general satisfaction, when each returned to 
 
TEEIB. PLACE OF SHELTER. 187 
 
 watch space through the side windows and the lower glass 
 coverlid. 
 
 There was the same view. The whole extent of the 
 celestial sphere swarmed with stars and constellations of 
 wonderful purity, enough to drive an astronomer out of 
 his mind! On one side the sun, like the mouth of a 
 lighted oven, a dazzling disc without a halo, standing out on 
 the dark background of the sky! On the other, the moon 
 returning its fire by reflection, and apparently motionless 
 in the midst of the starry world. Then, a large spot seem- 
 ingly nailed to, the firmament, bordered by a silvery cord: 
 it was the earth! Here and there nebulous masses like 
 large flakes of starry snow; and from the zenith to the 
 nadir, an immense ring formed by an impalpable dnst of 
 stars, the "Milky Way," in the m^^st of which the sun 
 ranks only as a star of the fou^tu magnitude. The 
 observers could not take their eyes from this novel spec- 
 tacle, of which no description could give an adequate 
 idea. What reflections it suggested! What emotions 
 hitherto unknown awoke in their souls! Barbicane 
 ,v?ished to begin the relation of his journey while under 
 its first impressions, and hour after hour took notes of all 
 facts happening in the beginning of the enterprise. He 
 wrote quietly, with his large square writing, in a business- 
 like style. 
 
 During this time Nicholl, the calculator, looked over 
 the minutes of their passage, and worked out figures with 
 unparalleled dexterity. Michel Ardan chatted first with 
 Barbicane, who did not answer him, and then with 
 Nicholl, who did not hear him, with Diana, who under- 
 stood none of his'theories, and lastly with himself, ques- 
 tioning and answering, going and coming, busy with a 
 thousand details; at one time bent over the lower glass, 
 at another roosting in the heights of the projectile, and 
 always singing. In this microcosm he represented French 
 
188 FROM TEE EABTE TO THE MOON. 
 
 loquacity and excitability, and we beg yon to believe that 
 they were well represented. The day, or rattier (for the 
 expression is not correct) the lapse of twelve hours, which 
 forms a day upon earth, closed with a plentiful supper 
 carefully prepared. No accident of any nature had yet 
 happened to sh"ke the travelers' confidence; so, full of 
 hope, already sure of success, they slept peacefully, while 
 the projectile under an nniformly decreasing speed was 
 crossing the skj. 
 
I LITTLE ALGEBRA. 189 
 
 OHAPTEK IT. 
 
 A LITTLE ALGEBRA. 
 
 The night passed without incident. The word "night," 
 however, is scarcely applicable. 
 
 The position of the projectile with regard to the snn 
 did not change. Asfcronomically, it was daylight on the 
 lower part, and night on the upper; so when during this 
 narrative these words are used, they represent the lapse of 
 time between the rising and setting of the sun upon the 
 earth. 
 
 The travelers' sleep was rendered more peaceful by the 
 projectile's excessive speed, for it seemed absolutely mo- 
 tionless. Not a motion betrayed ;its onward course 
 through space. The rate of progress, however rapid it 
 might be, cannot produce any sensible effect on the 
 human frame when it takes place in a vacuum, or when 
 the mass of air circulates with the body which is carried 
 with it. What inhabitant of the earth perceives its speed, 
 which, however, is at the rate of 68,000 miles per hour? 
 Motion under such conditions is "felt" no more than 
 repose; and when a body is in repose it will remain so as 
 long as no strange force displaces it; if moving, it will 
 not stop unless an obstacle comes in its way. This in- 
 difference to motion or repose is called inertia. 
 
 Barbicane and his companions might have helievefi 
 themselves perfectly stationary, being shut up in the pro- 
 jectile; indeed, the effect would have been the same if 
 thgy had been on the outside of it. Had it not been for 
 tt3 moon, which was increasing above them, they might 
 have sworn that they were floating in complete stagnation. 
 
180 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 That morning, the 3d of December, the travelers wero 
 awakened by a joyous but unexpected noise; it was the 
 crowing of a cock which sounded through the car. 
 Michel Ardan, who was the first on his feet, climbed to 
 the top of the projectile, and shutting a box, the lid of 
 which was partly open, said in a low voice, "Will yon 
 hold your tongue? That creature will spoil my design!" 
 
 But NichoU and Barbicane were awa,ke. 
 
 "A cock!" said Nicholl. 
 
 "Why no, my friends," Michel answered quickly; "it 
 was I who wished to awake you by this rural sound." -So 
 saying, he gave vent to a splendid cock-a-doodledoo, 
 which would have done honor to the proudest of poultry- 
 yards. 
 
 The two Americans could not help laughing. 
 
 "Fine talent that," said Nicholl, looking suspiciously 
 at his companion. 
 
 "Yes," said Michel; "a joke in my country. It is 
 "j-ery Gallic; they play the cock so in the best society." 
 
 Then turning the conversation: 
 
 "Barbicane, do you know what I have been thinking of 
 fell night?" 
 
 "No," answered the president. 
 
 "Of our Cambridge friends. You have already re- 
 marked that I am an ignoramus in mathematical subjects; 
 and it is impossible for me to find out how the savants of 
 the observatory were able to calculate what initiatory 
 speed the projectile ought to have on leaving the Colum- 
 biad in order to attain the moon." 
 
 "You mean to say," replied Barbicane, "to attain that 
 neutral point where the terrestrial and lunar attractions 
 are equal; for, starting from that point, situated about 
 nine-tenths of the distance traveled over, the projectile 
 would simply fall upon the moon, on account of itg 
 weight." 
 
A LITTLE ALGEBRA. 191 
 
 "So be it," said Michel; "but, once more; how conld 
 they calculate the initiatory speed?" 
 
 "Nothing can be easier," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "And you knew how to make that calculation?" asked 
 Michel Ardan. 
 
 "Perfectly. Nicholl and I would have made it, if the 
 observatory had not saved us the trouble." 
 
 "Very well, old Barbicane," replied Michel; "they 
 might have cut ofE my head, beginning at my feet, before 
 they could have made me solve that problem." 
 
 "Because you do not know algebra," answered Barbi- 
 cane quietly. 
 
 "Ah, there you are, you eaters of a;'; you think yon 
 have said all when yon have said 'Algebra.' " 
 
 "Michel," said Barbicane, "can you use a forge with- 
 out a hammer, or plow without a plowshare?" 
 
 "Hardly." 
 
 "Well, algebra is a tool, like the plow or the hammer, 
 and a good tool to those who know how to use it." 
 
 "Seriously?" 
 
 "Quite seriously." 
 
 "And can you use that tool in my presence?" 
 
 "If it will interest you." 
 
 "And show me how they calculated the initiatory speed 
 of our car?" 
 
 "Yes, my worthy friend ; taking into consideration all 
 the elements of the problem, the distance from the center 
 of the earth to the center of; the moon, of the radius of 
 the earth, of its bulk, and of the bulk of the moon, I can 
 tell exactly what ought to be the initiatory speed of the 
 , projectile, and that by a simple formula." 
 
 "Let us see." 
 
 "You shall see it; only I shall not give you the real 
 course drawn by the projectile between the moon and the 
 earth in .considering their motion round the sun. No, I 
 
193 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 shall consider these two orbs as perfectly motionless, 
 which will answer all our pnrpose." 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 ''Because it will be trying to solve the problem called 
 'the problem of the three bodies,' for which the integral 
 calculus is not fet far enough advanced." 
 
 "Then," said Michel Ardan, in his sly tone, "mathe- 
 matics have not said their last word?" 
 
 "Certainly not," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "Well, perhaps the Selenites have carried the integral 
 calculus farther than yon have; and, by the bye, what is 
 this 'integral calculus?' " 
 
 "It is a calculation the converse of the differential," 
 replied Barbicane seriously. 
 
 "Much obliged; it is all very clear, no doubt." 
 
 "And now," continued Barbicane, "a slip of paper 
 and a bit of pencil, and before a half-hour is over I will 
 have found the required formula." 
 
 Half an hour had not elapsed before Barbicane, raising 
 his head, showed Michel Ardan a page covered with 
 algebraical signs, in which the general formula for the 
 solution was contained. 
 
 "Well, and does Nicholl understand what that means?" 
 
 "Of coutse, Michel,"' replied the captain. "All these 
 signs, which seem cabalistic to you, form the plainest, 
 the clearest, and the most logical language to those who 
 know how to read it." 
 
 "And yon pretend, Nicholl," asked Michel, "that by 
 means of these hieroglyphics, more incomprehensible than 
 the Egyptian Ibis, you can find what initiatory speed it 
 was necessary to give to the projectile?" 
 
 "Incontestably," replied Nicholl; "and even by this 
 same formula I can always tell you its speed at any point 
 pf its tr&nsit." 
 
 «'0n your word?" 
 
A LITTLE ALGEBRA. 193 
 
 "On my word.'' 
 
 "Then yan aro as cnnning as our president." 
 
 "No, Michel; the difficnit part is what Barbieane bas 
 done; that is, to get an equation which shall satisfy all 
 the conditions of the problem. The remainder is only a 
 question of arithmetic, requiring merely the knowledge 
 of the four rules." 
 
 "That is something!" replied Michel Ardan, who foi 
 his life could not do addition right, and who defined the 
 rule as a Chinese puzzle, which allowed one to obtain all 
 sorts of totals. 
 
 "The expression v zero, which you see in that equation, 
 is the speed which the projectile will have on leaving the 
 atmosphere." 
 
 "Just so," said Nicholl; "it is from that point that we 
 must calculate the velocity, since we know already that 
 the velocity at departure was exactly one and a half times 
 more than on leaving the atmosphere." 
 
 "I understand no more," said Michel. 
 
 "It is a very simple- calculation," said Barbicane. 
 
 "Not as simple as I am," retorted Michel. 
 
 "That means, that when our projectile reached the 
 limits of the terestrial atmosphere it had already lost one- 
 third of its initiatory speed." 
 
 "As much as that?" 
 
 "Yes, my friend; merely by friction against the atmos- 
 pheric strata. You understand that the faster it goes 
 the more resistance it meets with from the air." 
 
 "That I admit," answered Michel; "and I understand 
 it, although your x's and zero's, and algebraic formula,, 
 are rattling in my head like nails in a bag." 
 
 "First effects of algebra," replied Barbicane; "and 
 now, to finish, we are going to prove the given number of 
 these different expressions, that is, work out thejr value,'' 
 
 "Finish mel" replied Michel. 
 
194 FSOM THE EARTH TO THE MOOK 
 
 Barbicane took the paper, and began again to make his 
 calculaltions with great rapidity. Nicholl looked over and 
 greedily read the work as it proceeded. 
 
 "That's it! that's it!" at last he cried. 
 
 "Is it clear?" asked Barbicane. 
 
 "It is written in letters of fire," said NicholL 
 
 "Wonderful fellows!" muttered Ardan. 
 I "Do you understand it at last?" asked Barbicane. 
 
 "Do I understand it?'" cried Ardan; "my head is split- 
 ting with it." 
 
 "And now," said Nicholl, "to find out the speed of the 
 projectile when it left the atmosphere, we have only to 
 calculate that." 
 
 The captain, as a practical man equal to all diflBculties, 
 began to write with frightful rapidity. Divisions and 
 multiplications grew under his fingers; the figures were 
 like hail on the white page. Barbicane watched him, 
 while Michel Ardan nursed a growing headache with both 
 hands. 
 
 "Very well?" asked Barbicane, after some minutes' 
 silence. 
 
 "Well!" replied Nicholl; "every calculation made, 
 V zero, that is to say, the speed necessary for the projec- 
 tile on leaving the atmosphere, to enable it to reach the 
 equal point of attraction, ought to be " 
 
 "Yes?" said Barbicane. 
 
 "Twelve thousand yards." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Barbicane, starting; "yons«y— — " 
 
 "Twelve thousand yards." 
 
 "The devil!" cried the president, making a gesture of 
 despair. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Michel Ardan, much 
 surprised. 
 
 "What is the matter! why, if at this moment our speed 
 
A LITTLE ALGEBRA. 195 
 
 had already diminished one-third by friction, the initi- 
 atory speed ought to have been " 
 
 "Seventeen thousand yards." 
 
 "And the Cambridge Observatory declared that twelve 
 thousand yards was enongh at starting; and our projec- 
 tile, which only started with that speed " 
 
 "Well?" asked Nicholl. 
 
 "Well, it will not be enongh." 
 
 "Good." 
 
 "We shall not be able to reach the neutral point." 
 
 "The deuce!" 
 
 "We shall not even get halfway." 
 
 "In the name of the projectile!" exclaimed Michel 
 Ardan, jumping as if it was already on the point of strik- 
 ing the terrestrial globe. 
 
 "And we shall fall back upon the earth!" 
 
196 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER V. ' 
 
 THE COLD OF SPACE. 
 
 This revelation came like a thunderbolt. Who conld 
 have expected such an error in calculation? Barbicane 
 would not believe it. Nicholl revised his figures: they 
 were exact. As to the formula which had determined 
 them, they could not suspect its truth; it was evident 
 that an initiatory velocity of seventeen thousand yards in 
 the first second was necessary to enable them to reach the 
 neutral point. 
 
 The three friends looked at each other silently. There 
 was no thought of breakfast. Barbicane, with clenched 
 teeth, knitted brows, and hands clasped convulsively, was 
 watching through the window. NichoU had crossed his 
 arms, and was examining his calculations. Michel Ardan 
 was muttering: 
 
 "Th^t is just like those scientific men: they never do 
 anything else. I would give twenty pistoles if we could 
 fall upon the Cambridge Observatory and crush it, to- 
 gether with the whole lot of dabblers in figures which it 
 contains." 
 
 Suddenly a thought struck the captain, which he at 
 once communicated to Barbicane. 
 
 "Ah!" said he; "it is seven o'clock in the morning; 
 we have already been gone thirty-two hours; more than 
 half our passage is over, and we are not falling that I am 
 aware of." 
 
 Barbicane did not answer, but, after a rapid glance at 
 the captain, took a pair nf compasses wherewith to meas- 
 
TEE COLD OF SPACE. 197 
 
 nre the angular distance of the terrestrial globe; then from 
 the lower window he took an exact observation, and 
 noticed that the projectile was apparently stationary. 
 Then rising and wiping his forehead, on which large 
 drops of perspiration were standing, he put some figures 
 on paper. Nicholl understood that> the president was 
 deducting from the terrestrial diameter the projectile's 
 distance from the earth'. He watched him anxiously. 
 
 "No," exclaimed Barbicane, after some moments, "no, 
 we are not falling! no, we are already more than 50,000 
 leagues from the earth. We have passed the point at 
 which the projectile would have stopped if its speed had 
 only been 12,000 yards at starting. We are still going 
 up." 
 
 "That is evident," replied Nicholl; "and we must con-" 
 elude that our initial speed, under the power of the 400,- 
 000 pounds of gun-cotton, must have exceeded the re- 
 quired 12,000 yards. Now I can understand how, aften 
 thirteen minutes only, we met the second satellite, which 
 gravitates round the earth at more than 2,000 leagues' 
 distance." 
 
 "And this explanation is the more probable," added 
 Barbicane, "because, in throwing off the water enclosed 
 between its partition-breaks, the projectile found itsel/ 
 lightened of a considerable weight." 
 
 "Just so," said Nicholl. 
 
 "Ah, my brave Nicholl, we are saved!" 
 
 "Very well then," said Michel Ardan quietly; "as w« 
 are safe, let us have breakfast." 
 
 Nicholl was not mistaken. The initial speed had been, 
 very fortunately, much above 4hat estimated by the. Cam- 
 bridge Observatory; but the Cambridge Observatory had 
 nevertheless made a mistake. 
 
 The travelers, recovered from this false alarm, break- 
 fasted merrily. If they ate a great deal, they talked 
 
198 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. \ 
 
 more. Their confidence was greater after than before 
 "the incident of the algebra." 
 
 "Why should we not succeed?" said Michel ATdan; 
 "why should we not arrive safely? We are launched; we 
 have no obstacle before us, no stones in our way; the road 
 is open, more so than that of a ship battling with the sea; 
 more open thaij that of a balloon battling with the wind; 
 and if a ship can reach its destination, a balloon go where 
 it pleases, why cannot our projectile attain its end and 
 aim?" 
 
 "It will attain it," said Barbicane- 
 
 "If only to do honor to the Americans," added Michel 
 Ardan, "the only people who could bring such an enter- 
 prise to a happy termination, and the only one which 
 could produce a President Barbicane. Ah, naw we are 
 no longer uneasy, I begin to think. What will become of 
 us? We shall get right royally weary." 
 
 Barbicane and Nicholl made a gesture of denial. 
 
 "But I have provided for the contingencyj my friends," 
 replied Michel; "you have only to speak, and I have 
 chess, draughts, cards, and dominoes at your disposal; 
 nothing is wanting but a billiard-table." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Barbicane; "you brought away 
 such trifles?" 
 
 "Certainly," replied Michel, "and not only to distract 
 ourselves, but also with the laudable intention of endow- 
 ing the Selenito smoking divans with them." 
 
 "My friend," said Barbicane, "if the moon is inhat ■ 
 ited, its inhabitants must have appeared some thousands 
 of. years before those of the earth, for we cannot doubt 
 that their star is much older than ours. If then these 
 Selenites have &xisted their hundreds of thousands of 
 years, and if their brain is of the same organization as the 
 human brain, they have already invented all that we 
 have invented, and even what we may invent in future 
 
THE COLD OF SPACE. 199 
 
 ages. They have nothing to learn from us, and we have 
 everything to learn from them." 
 
 "What!" said Michel; "yon believe that they have 
 artists like Phidias, Michael Angelo, or Raphael?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Poets like Homer, Virgil, Milton, Lamartine, an<k 
 Hugo?" 
 
 "I am sure of it." 
 
 "Philosophers like Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Kant?" 
 
 "I have no doubt of it." 
 
 "Scientific men like Archimedes, Bnclidj Pascal, 
 Newton?" 
 
 "I could swear it." 
 
 "Comic writers like Arnal, and photographers like- 
 like Nadar?" 
 
 "Certain." ■ 
 
 "Then, friend Barbicane, if they are as strong as we 
 arej and even stronger — these Solenites — why have they 
 Hot tried to communicate with the earth? why have they 
 not launched a lunar projectile to our terrestrial regions?" 
 
 "Who told you that they have never done so?" said 
 Barbicane seriously. 
 
 "Indeed," added Nicholl, "it would be easier for them 
 than for us, for two reasons; first, because the attraction 
 on the moon's surface is six times less than on that of the 
 earth, which would allow a projectile to rise more easily; 
 secondly, because it would be enough to send such a pro- 
 jectile only at 8,000 leagues instead of 80,000, which would 
 require the force of projection to be ten times less strong." 
 
 "Then," continued Michel, "I repeat it, why have 
 they not done it?" 
 
 "And I repeat," said Barbicane; "who told you that 
 they have not done it?" 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "Thousands of years before man appeared on earth." 
 
300 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "And the projectile — ^where is the projectile? I de- 
 mand to see the projectile." 
 
 "My friend," replied Barbieane, "the sea covers five- 
 sixths of onr globe. Prom that we may draw five good 
 reasons for supposing that the lunar projectile, if ever 
 launched, is now at the bottom of the Atlantic or the 
 Pacific, unless it sped into some crevasse at that period 
 when the crust of th.e earth was not yet hardened." 
 
 "Old Barbieane," said Michel, "you have an answer 
 for everything, and I bow before your wisdom. But 
 there is one hypothesis that would suit me better than all 
 the others, which is, that the Selenites, being older than 
 we, are wiser, and have not invented gunpowder." 
 
 At this moment Diana joined in the conversation by a 
 sonorous barking. She was asking for her breakfast. 
 
 "Ah!" said Michel Ardan, "in our discussion we have 
 forgotten Diana and Satellite." 
 
 Immediately a good-sized pie was given to the dog, 
 which devoured it hungrily. 
 
 "Do you see, Barbieane," said Michel, "we should 
 have made a second Noah's ark of this projectile, and 
 borne with us to the moon a couple of every kind of 
 domestic animal." 
 
 "I dare say; but room would have failed us." 
 
 "Oh!" said Michel, "we might have squeezed a little." 
 
 "The fact is," replied Nicholl, "that cows, bulls, and 
 horses, and all ruminants, would have been very useful 
 on the lanar continent, but unfortunately the car could 
 neither have been made a stable nor a shed." 
 
 "Well, we might at least have brought a donkey, only 
 a little donkey; that courageous beast which old Silenus 
 loved to mount. I love those old donkeys; they are the 
 least favored animals in creation; they are not only 
 beaten while alive, but even after they are dead." 
 
 "How do you make that out?" asked Barbieane. 
 "Why," said Michel, "they make their skins into drums." 
 
THE COLD OF SPAOE. 201 
 
 Barbioane and Nicholl could not help laughing at this 
 ridiculous remark. But a cry from their merry compan- 
 ion stopped them. The latter was leaning over the spot 
 •where Satellite lay. He rose, saying: 
 
 "My good Satellite is no longer ill." 
 
 "Ah!" said Nioholl. 
 
 ^'No," answered Michel, "he is dead! There," added 
 he, in a piteous tone, "that is embarrassing. I much 
 fear, my poor Diana, that you will leave no progeny in 
 the lunar regions!" 
 
 Indeed the unfortunate Satellite had not survived its 
 wound. It was quite dead. Michel Ardan looked at his 
 friends with a rueful countenance. 
 
 "One question presents itself," said Barbicane. "We 
 cannot keep the dead body of this dog with us for the 
 next forty-eight hours." 
 
 "No! certainly not," replied Nicholl; "but our scut- 
 tles are fixed on hinges; they can be let down. We will 
 open one, and throw the body out into space." 
 
 The president thought for some moments, and then 
 said : 
 
 "Yes, we must do so, but at the same time taking very 
 great precautions." 
 
 "Why?" asked Michel. 
 
 "For two reasons which you will understand," answered 
 Barbicane. "The first relates to theairshut up in the 
 projectile, and of which we must lose as little as possible." 
 
 "But we manufacture the air?" 
 
 "Only in part. We make only the oxygen, my worthy 
 Michel; and with regard to that, we must watch that the 
 apparatus does not furnish the oxygen in too great a 
 quantity; for an excess would bring us very serious phys- 
 iological troubles. But if we make the oxygen, we do 
 not make the azote, that medium which the lungs do not 
 absorb, and which ought to remain intact; and that azote 
 will escape rapidly through t^e open scuttles." 
 
303 JPiJO-Jf THE BAUTB TO TME MOON. 
 
 "Oh! the time for throwing out poor Satellite?" said 
 Michel. 
 
 "Agreed; but we mnst act quickly." 
 
 "And the second reason?" asked Michel. 
 
 "The second reason is that we must not let the outer 
 cold, which is excessive, penetrate the projectile or w^ 
 shall be frozen to death." 
 
 "But the sun?" 
 
 "The sun warms our projectile, which aosorbs its rays; 
 but it does not warm the vacuum in which we are floating 
 at this moment. Where there is no air, there is no more 
 heat than difEused light; and the same with darkness: it 
 is cold where the sun's rays do not strike direct. This 
 temperature is only the temperature produced by the 
 radiation of the stars; that is to say, what the terrestrial 
 globe would undergo if the sun disappeared one day." 
 
 "Which is not to be feared," replied Nicholl. 
 
 "Who knows?" said Michel Ardan. "But, in admit- 
 ting that the sun does not go out, might it not happen 
 that the earth might move away from it?" 
 
 "There!" said Barbicane, "there is Michel with his 
 ideas." 
 
 "And," continued Michel, "do we not know that in 
 1861 the earth passed through the tail of a comet? Or 
 let us suppose a comet whose power of attraction is greater 
 than that of the sun. The terrestrial orbit will bend 
 toward the wandering star, and the earth, becoming its 
 satellite, will be drawn such a distance that the rays of 
 the sun will have no action on its surface." 
 
 "That might happen, indeed," replied Barbicane, "but 
 the consequences of such a displacement need not be so 
 formidable as you suppose." 
 
 "And why not?" 
 
 "Because the heat and the cold would be equalized on 
 onr globe. It has been calculated that, had our earth 
 
THE COLD OF SPACE. 203 
 
 been carried along in its course by the eomet'of 1861, at 
 its perihelion, that is, its nearest approach to the sun, it 
 would have undergone a heat 28,000 times greater than 
 that of summer. But this heat, which is sufficient to 
 evaporate the waters, would have formed a thick ring of 
 cloud, which would have modified that excessive tempera- 
 ture; hence the compensation between the cold of the 
 aphelion and the heat of the perihelion." 
 
 "At how many degrees," asked KTicholl, "is the tem- 
 perature of the planetary spaces estimated?" 
 
 "Formerly," replied Barbicane, "it was greatly ex- 
 aggerated; but now, after the calculations of Fourier, of 
 the French Academy of Science, it is not supposed to ex- 
 ceed 60° Centigrade below zero." 
 
 "Pooh!" said Michel, "that's nothing!" 
 
 "It is very much," replied Barbicane; "the tempera- 
 ture which was observed in the polar regions, at Melville 
 Island and Fort Reliance, that is 76° Fahrenheit below 
 zero." 
 
 "If I mistake not," said Nicholl, "M. Pouillet, another 
 savant, estimates the temperature of space at 250° Fahren- 
 heit below zero. We shall, however, be able to verify 
 these calculations for ourselves." 
 
 "Not at present ; because the solar rays, beating directly 
 opon our thermometer, would give, on the contrary, a 
 very high temperature. But, when we arrive in the 
 moon, during its fifteen days of night at either face, we 
 shall have leisure to make the experiment, for onr satel- 
 lite lies in a vacuum." 
 
 "What do you mean by a vacuum?" asked Michel. 
 "Is it perfectly such?" 
 
 "It is absolutely void of air." 
 
 "And is the air replaced by nothing whatever?" 
 
 "By the ether only," replied Barbicane* 
 
 "And pray what is the ether?" 
 
204 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "The ether, my friend, is an agglomeration of impon- 
 derable atoms, which, relatively to their dimensions, are 
 as far removed from each other as the celestial bodies are 
 in space. It is these atoms which, by their vibratory 
 motion, produce both light and heat in the universe." 
 
 They now proceeded to the burial of Satellite. They 
 had merely to drop him into space, in the same way that 
 sailors drop a body into the sea; but, as President Barbi- 
 cane suggested, they must act quickly, so as to lose as 
 little as possible of that air whose elasticity would rapidly 
 have spi:ead it into space. The bolts of the right scuttle, 
 the opening of which measured about twelve inches 
 across, were carefully drawn, while Michel, quite grieved, 
 prepared to launch his dog into space. The glass, raised 
 by a powerful lever, which enabled it to overcome the 
 pressure of the inside air on the walls of the projectile, 
 turned rapidly on its hinges, and Satellite was thrown 
 out. Scarcely a particle of air could have escaped, and 
 the operation was so successful that later on Barbicane 
 did not fear to dispose of the rubbish which encumbered 
 the car. 
 
QUESTION AND AN8WEB. 205 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 QUESTIOS AND AKSWBK. 
 
 Ou the 4th of December, when the travelers awoke 
 after fifty-fonr hours' journey, the chronometer marked 
 five o'clock of the terrestrial morning. In time it was 
 just over five hours and forty minutes, half of that as- 
 signed to their sojourn in the projectile; but they had 
 already accomplished nearly seven-tenths of the way. 
 This peculiarity was due to their regularly decreasing 
 speed. 
 
 Now when they observed the earth through the lower 
 window, it looked like nothing more than a dark spot, 
 drowned in the solar rays. No more crescent, no more 
 cloudy light! The next day, at midnight, the earth would 
 be new, at the very moment when the moon would be 
 full. Above, the orb of night was nearing the line fol- 
 lowed by the projectile, so as to meet it at the given 
 hour. All around the black vault was studded with bril- 
 liant points, which seemed to move slowly; but, at the 
 great distance they were from them, their relative size 
 did not seem to change. The sun and stars appeared 
 exactly as they do to us upon earth. As to the moon, 
 she was considerably larger; but the travelers' glasses, 
 not very powerful, did not allow them as yet to make any 
 useful observations upon her surface, or reconuoiter her 
 topographically or geologically. 
 
 Thus the time passed in never-ending conversations all 
 about the moon. Each one brought forward his own 
 contipgent of particular 'facts; Barbicane and Nioholl 
 
306 B'BOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 always serious, Michel Ardan always enthusiastic. The 
 projectile, its situation, its direction, incidents which 
 might happen, the precautions necessitated by their fall 
 on to the moon, were inexhaustible matters of conjecture. 
 
 As they were breakfasting, a question of Michel's, re- 
 lating to the projectile, provoked rather a curious answer 
 from Barbicane, which is worth repeating. Michel, sup- 
 posing it to be roughly stopped, while still under its for- 
 midable initial speed, wished to know what the conse- 
 quences of the stoppage would have been. 
 
 "But," said Barbicane, "I do not see how it could 
 have been stopped." 
 
 "But let us suppose so," said Michel. 
 
 "It is an impossible supposition," said the practical 
 Barbicane; "unless the impulsive force had failed; but 
 even then its speed would diminish by degrees, and it 
 would not have stopped suddenly." 
 
 "Admit that it had struck a body in space." 
 
 "What body?" 
 
 "Why that enormous meteor which we met." 
 
 '*Then," said Nicholl, "the projectile would have been 
 broken into a thousand pieces, and we with it." 
 
 "More than that," replied Barbicane; "we should have 
 beea burned to death." 
 
 "Burned?" exclaimed Michel, "by Jove! I am sorry 
 it did not happen, 'just to see.' " 
 
 "And you would have seen," replied Barbicane. "It 
 is known now that heat is only a modification of motion. 
 When water is warmed — that is to say, when heat is added 
 to it — its particles are set in motion." 
 
 "Well," said Michel, "that is an ingenious theory!" 
 
 "And a true one, my worthy friend; for it explains 
 every phenomenon of caloric. Heat is but the motion of 
 atoms, a simple oscillation of the particles of a body. 
 When they apply the brake to a train, the train comes to 
 
QUESTION AND ANSWEjR. 307 
 
 a stop; bat what becomes of the motion which it had 
 previously possessed? It is transformed into heat, and 
 the brake becomes hot. Why do they grease the axles of 
 the wheels? To prevent their he&ting, hecanse this heat 
 would be generated by the motion which is thus lost by 
 transformation." - 
 
 "Yes, I understand," replied Michel, "perfectly. For 
 example, when I have run a long time, when I am swim- 
 ming, when I am perspiring in large drops, why am I 
 obliged to stop? Simply because my motion is changed 
 into heat." 
 
 Barbicane could not help smiling at Michel's reply; 
 then, returning to his theory, said : 
 
 "Thus, in case of a shock, it would have been with our 
 projectile as with a ball which falls in a burning state 
 after having struck the metal plate; it is its motion 
 which is turned into heat. Consequently I afiBrm that, if 
 our projectile had struck the meteor, its speed thus sud- 
 denly checked would have raised a heat great enough to 
 turn it into vapor instantaneously." 
 
 "Then," asked Nicholl, "what would happen if the 
 earth's motion were to stop suddenly?" 
 
 "Her temperature would be raised to such a pitch," 
 said Barbicane, "that she would be at once reduced to 
 vapor." 
 
 "Well," said Michel, "that is a way of ending the 
 earth which will greatly simplify things." 
 
 "And if the earth fell upon the sun?" asked Nicholl. 
 
 "According to calculation," replied Barbicane, "the 
 fall would develop a heat equal to that produced by 16,- 
 000 globes of coal, each equal in bulk to our terrestrial 
 globe." 
 
 "Good additional heat for the sun," replied Michel 
 Ardan, "of which the inhabitants of Uranus or Neptune 
 would doubtless not complain; they- must be perished 
 with cold on their planets." 
 
308 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "Thus, my friends," said Barbicane, "all motion sud- 
 denly stopped produces heat. And this theory allows us 
 to infer that the heat of the solar disc is fed by a hail of 
 meteors falling incessantly on its surface. They have 
 even calculated " 
 
 "Oh, dear!" murmured Michel, "the figures are com- 
 ing." 
 
 "They have even calculated," continued the imper- 
 turbable Barbicane, "that the shock of each meteor on 
 the sun ought to produce a heat equal to that of 4,000 
 masses of coal of an equal bulk." 
 
 "And what is the solar heat?" asked Michel. 
 
 "It is equal to that produced by the combustion of a 
 stratum of coal surrounding the sun to a depth of forty- 
 seven miles." 
 
 "And that heat " 
 
 "Would be able to boil two billions nine hundred mil- 
 lions of cubic myriameters * of water." 
 
 "And it does not roast us!" exclaimed Michel. 
 
 "No," replied Barbicane, "because the terrestrial at- 
 mospl:! ere absorbs four-tenths of the solar heat; besides, 
 the quantity of heat intercepted by the earth is but a 
 billionth part of the entire radiation." 
 
 "I see that all is for the best," said Michel, "and that 
 this atmosphere is a useful invention; for it not only 
 allows us to breathe, but it prevents us from roasting." 
 
 "Yes!" said NichoU, "unfortunately, it will not be the 
 same in the moon." 
 
 "Bah!" said Michel, always hopeful. "If there are 
 inhabitants, they must breathe. If there are no longer 
 any, they must have left enough oxygen for three people, 
 if only at the bottom of ravines, where its own weight 
 
 * The myriameter is equal to rather more than 10,936 cubic yards 
 BngUsb. 
 
QUESTION AND ANSWEB. 209 
 
 will canse it to accumulate, and we will not climb the 
 mountains; that is all." And Michel, rising, went to 
 look at the lunar disc, which shone with intolerable 
 brilliancy. 
 
 "By Jove!" said he, "it must be hot up there!" 
 
 "Without considering," replied Nicholl, "that the day 
 lasts 360 hours!" 
 
 "And to compensate that," said Barbicane, "the nights 
 have the same length; and as heat is restored by radia- 
 tion, their temperature can only be that of the planetary 
 apace." 
 
 "A pretty country, that!" exclaimed Michel. "Never 
 mind! I wish I was there! Ah! my dear comrades, it 
 will be rather curious to have the earth for our moon, to 
 see it rise on tha horizon, to recognize the shape of its 
 continents, and to say to oneself, 'There is America, there 
 is Europe;' then to follow it when it is about to lose 
 itself in the sun's rays! By the bye, Barbictoe, have the 
 Selenites eclipses?" 
 
 "Yes, eclipses- of the sun," replied Barbicane, "when 
 the centers of the three orbs are on a line, the earth being 
 in the middle. But they are only partial, during which 
 the earth, cast like a screen upon the solar disc, allows the 
 greater portion to be seen." 
 
 "And why," asked Nicholl, "is there no total eclipse? 
 Does not the cone of the shadow oast by the earth extend 
 beyond the moon?" 
 
 "Yes, if we do not take into consideration the refrac- 
 tion produced by the terrestrial atmosphere. No, if we 
 take that refraction into consideration. Thus let s be 
 the horizontal parallel, and p the apparent semidi- 
 ameter '" 
 
 "Oh!" said Michel. "Do speak plainly, yon man of 
 algebra!" 
 
 "Very well," replied Barbicane; "in popular language 
 
210 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 the mean distance from the moon to the earth being sixty 
 terrestrial radii, the length of the cone of the shadow, 
 on account of the refraction, is reduced to less than forty- 
 two radii. The result is that when there are eclipses, the 
 moon finds itself beyond the cone of pure shadow, and 
 that the sun sends her its rays, not only from its edges, 
 but also from its center." 
 
 "Then," said Michel, in a merry tone, "why are there 
 eclipses, when there ought not to be any?" 
 
 "Simply because the solar rays are weakened by this 
 refraction, and the atmosphere through which they pass 
 extinguishes the greater part of them !" 
 
 "That reason satisfies me," replied Michel. "Besides 
 we shall see -when we get there. Now, tell me, Barbi- 
 cane, do you believe that the moon is an old comet?" 
 
 "There's an idea!" 
 
 "Yes," replied Michel, with an amiable swagger, "I 
 have a few ideas of that sort." 
 
 "But that idea does not spring from Michel," answered 
 Nicholl. 
 
 "Well, then, I am a plagiarist." 
 ' "No doubt about it. According to the ancients, the 
 Arcadians pretend that their ancestors inhabited the earth 
 before the moon became her satellite. Starting from thii 
 fact, some scientific men have seen in the moon a comet 
 whose orbit will one day bring it so near to the earth that 
 it will be held there by its attraction." 
 
 "Is there any truth in this hypothesis?" asked Michel. 
 
 "None whatever," said Barbicane, "and the proof is, 
 that the moon has preserved no trace of the gaseous en- 
 velope which always accompanies comets." 
 
 "But," continued Nicholl, "before becoming the 
 earth's satellite, could not the moon, when in her peri- 
 helion, pass so near the sun as by evaporation to get rid 
 of all those gaseous substances?" 
 
 "It is possible, friend Nicholl, but not probable." 
 
QUESTION AND ANSWER. gll 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because — Faith I do not know." 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Michel, "what hundreds of volnmea 
 we might make of all that we do not know!" 
 
 "Ah! indeed. What time is it?" asked Barbicane 
 
 "Three o'clock," answered Nicholl. 
 
 "How time goes," said Michel, "in the conversation of 
 scientific men such as we are! Certainly, I feel I know 
 too much! I feel that I am becoming a well!" i 
 
 Saying which, Michel hoisted himself to the roof of the 
 projectile, "to observe the moon better," he. pretended. 
 During this time his companions were watching through 
 the lower glass. Nothing new to note! 
 
 When Michel Ardan came down, he went to the side 
 scuttle; and suddenly they heard an exclamation of sur- 
 prise! 
 
 "What is it?" asked Barbicane. 
 
 The president approached the window, and saw a sort 
 of flattened sack floating some yards from the projectile. 
 This object seemed as motionless as the projectile, and 
 was consequently animated with the same ascending 
 movement. 
 
 "What is that machine?" continued Michel Ardan. 
 "Is it one of the bodies of space which our projectile 
 keeps within its attraction, and which will accompany it 
 to the moon?" 
 
 "What astonishes me," said Nicholl, "is that tha 
 specific weight of the body, which is certainly less than 
 that of the projectile, allpws it to keep so perfectly on a 
 level with it." 
 
 "Nicholl," replied Barbicane, after a moment's reflec- 
 tion, "I do not know what the object is, but I do know 
 why it maintains our level." 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 "Because we are floating in space, my dear captain, and 
 
212 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 in space bodies fall or move (which is the same thing) with 
 eqaal speed whatever be their weight or form ; it is the air, 
 which by its resistance creates these differences in weight. 
 When yon create a vacuum in a tube, the objects you 
 send through it, grains of dust or grains of lead, fall with 
 the same rapidity. Here in space is the same cause and 
 the same effect." 
 
 "Just so," said Nioholl, "and everything we throw out of 
 the projectile will accompany it until it reaches the moon." 
 
 "Ah! fools that we are!" exclaimed Michel. 
 
 "Why that expletive?" asked Barbicane. 
 
 "Because we might have filled the projectile with use- 
 fal objects, books, instruments, tools, etc. We could 
 have thrown them all out, and all would have followed in 
 our train. But happy thought! AVhy cannot we walk 
 outside like the meteor? Why cannot we launch into 
 space through the scuttle? What enjoyment it would be 
 to feel oneself thus suspended in ether, more favored 
 than the birds who must use their wings to keep them- 
 selves up!" 
 
 "Granted," said Barbicane, "but how to breathe?" 
 
 "Hang the air, to fail so inopportunely!" 
 
 "But if it did not fail, Michel, your density being less 
 than that of the projectile, you would soon be left behind." 
 
 "Then we must remain in our car?" 
 
 "We must!" 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Michel, in a loud voice. 
 
 "What is the matter," asked Nicholl. 
 
 "I know, I guess, what this pretended meteor is! It is 
 no asteroid which is accompanying us! It is not a piece 
 of a planet." 
 
 "What is it then?" asked Barbicane. 
 
 "It is our unfortunate dog! It is Diana's husband!" 
 
 Indeed, this deformed, unrecognizable object, reduced 
 to nothing, was the body of Satellite, flattened like a bag- 
 pipe without wind, and ever mounting, mounting! 
 
A MOMENT OF INTOXICATION. 213 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 A MOMENT OP IKTOXICATIOST. 
 
 Thus a phenomenon, curious but explicable, was hap- 
 pening under these strange conditions. 
 
 Every object thrown from the projectile would follow 
 the same course and never stop until it did. There was 
 a subject for conversation which the whole evening could 
 not exhaust. 
 
 Besides, the excitement of the three travelers increased 
 as they drew near the end of their journey. They ex- 
 pected unforeseen incidents, and new phenomena; and 
 nothing would have astonished them in the frame of mind 
 they then were in. Their overexcited imagination went 
 faster than the projectile, whose speed was evidently 
 diminishing, though insensibly to themselves. But the 
 moon grew larger to their eyes, and they fancied if they 
 stretched out their hands they could seize it. 
 
 The next day, the 5th of November, at five in the 
 moTuing, all throe were on foot. That day was to be the 
 last of their journey, if all calculations were true. That 
 ivery night, at twelve o'clock, in eighteen hours, exactly 
 ^t the full moon, they would reach its brilliant disc. 
 'The next midnight would see that journey ended, the 
 most extraordinary of ancient or modern times. Thus 
 from the first of the morning, through the scuttles sil- 
 vered by its rays, they saluted the orb of night with a 
 confident and joyous hurrah. 
 
 The moon was advancing majestically along the starry 
 firmament. A few more degrees, and she would react 
 
214 FBOM THE EARTE TO TBE MOON. 
 
 the exact point where her meeting with the projectile was 
 to take place. 
 
 According to his own observations, Barbicane reckoned 
 that they would land on her northern hemisphere, where 
 stretch immense plains, and where mountains are rare. 
 A favorable circumstance if, as they thought, the lunar 
 atmosphere was stored only in its depths. 
 
 "Besides," observed Michel Ardan, "a plain is easier 
 to disembark upon than a mountain. A Selenite, de- 
 posited in Europe on the summit of Mont Blanc, or in 
 Asia on the top of the Himalayas, would not be quite in 
 the right place." 
 
 "And," added Captain Nicholl, "on a flat ground, the 
 projectile will remain motionless when it has once touched ; 
 whereas on a declivity it would roll like an avalanche, and 
 not being squirrels we should not come out safe and 
 sound. So it is all for the best." 
 
 Indeed, the success of the audacious attempt no longer 
 appeared doubtful. But Barbicane was preoccupied with 
 one thought; but not wishing to make his companions 
 uneasy, he kept silence on the subject. 
 
 The direction the projectile was taking toward the 
 moon's northern hemisphere, showed that her course hadi 
 been slightly altered. The discharge, mathematically 
 calculated, would carry the projectile to the very center 
 of the lunar disc. If it did not land there, there must 
 have been some deviation. What had caused it? Barbi- 
 cane could neither imagine nor determine the importance 
 of the deviation, for there were no points to go by. 
 
 He hoped, however, that it would have no other result 
 than that of bringing them near the upper border of the 
 moon, a region more suitable for landing. 
 
 Without imparting his uneasiness to his companions, 
 Barbicane contented himself with constantly observing 
 the moon, in order to see whether the coua-se of the pro- 
 
A MOMEKT OF INTOXICATION. 315 
 
 jeotile would not be altered; for the situation would have 
 been terrible if it failed in its aim, and being carried be- 
 yond the disc should be launched into interplanetary 
 space. At that moment, the moon, instead of appearing 
 flat like a disc, showed its convexity. If the sun's rays 
 had struck it obliquely, the shadow thrown would have 
 brought out the high mountains, which would have been 
 clearly detached. The eye might have gazed into the 
 crater's gaping abysses, and followed the capricious fissures 
 which wound through the immense plains. But all relief 
 was as yet leveled in intense brilliancy. They could 
 scarcely distinguish those large spots which give to the 
 moon the appearance of a human face. 
 
 "Face, indeed!" said Michel Ardan; "but I am sorry 
 for the amiable sister of Apollo. A very pitted face !" 
 
 But the travelers, now so near the end, were incessantly 
 observing this new world. They imagined themselves 
 walking through its unknown countries, climbing its 
 highest peaks, descending into its lowest depths. Here 
 and there they fancied they saw vast seas, scarcely kept 
 together under so rarefied an atmosphere, and water- 
 courses emptying the mountain tributaries. Leaning 
 over the abyss, they hoped to catch some sounds from 
 that orb forever mute in the solitude of space. That 
 lastiday left them. 
 
 They took down the most trifling details. A vague 
 uneasiness took possession of them as they neared the 
 end. This uneasiness would have been doubled had they 
 felt how their speed had decreased. It would have 
 seemed to them quite insufficient to carry them to the 
 end. It was because the projectile then "weighed" 
 almost nothing. Its weight was ever decreasing, and 
 would be entirely annihilated on that line where the lunar 
 and terrestrial attractions would neutralize each other. 
 
 But in spite of his preoccupation, Michel Ardan did 
 
216 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 not forget to prepare the morning repast with his accna- 
 tomed punctuality. They ate with a good appetite. 
 Nothing was so excelleijt as the soup liquefied by the heat 
 of the gas; nothing better than the preserved meat. 
 Some glasses of good French wine crowned the repast, 
 causing Michel Ardau to remark that the lunar vines, 
 warmed by that ardent sun, ought to distill even more 
 generous wines; that is, if they existed. In any case, the 
 far-seeing Frenchman had taken care not to forget in his 
 collection some precious cuttings of the Medoc and C6te 
 d'Or, upon which he founded his hopes. 
 
 Reiset and Regnault's apparatus worked with great regu- 
 larity. Not an atom of carbonic acid resisted the potash; 
 and as to the oxygen, Captain Nicholl said "it was of the 
 first quality." The little watery vapor enclosed in the 
 projectile mixing with the air tempered the dryness; and 
 many apartments in London, Paris, or New York, and 
 many theaters, were certainly not in such a healthy con- 
 dition. 
 
 But that it might act with regularity, the apparatus 
 must be kept in perfect order; so each morning Michel 
 visited the escape regulators, tried the taps, and regulated 
 the heat of the gas by the pyrometer. Everything had 
 gone well up to that time, and the travelers, imitating 
 the worthy Joseph T. Maston, began to acquire a degree 
 of embonpoint which would have rendered them un- 
 recognizable if their imprisonment had been prolonged to 
 some months. In a word, they behaved like chickens in 
 a coop; they were getting fat. 
 
 In looking through the scuttle Barbicane saw the 
 specter of the dog, and other divers objects which had 
 been thrown from the projectile, obstinately following 
 them. Diana howled lugubriously on seeing the remains 
 of Satellite, which seemed as motionless as if they reposed 
 on tlie solid earth. 
 
A MOMENT OP INTOXICATION. 317 
 
 "Do you know, my friends," said Michel Ardan, "that 
 if one of us had snccumbed to the shock consequent on 
 departure, we should have had a great deal of trouble to 
 bury him? What am I saying? to etherize him, as here 
 ether takes the place of earth. You see the accusing 
 body would have followed us into space like a remorse." 
 
 "That would have been sad,", said Nichdll. 
 
 "Ah!" continued Michel, "what I regret is not being 
 able to take a walk outside. What voluptuousness to 
 float amid this radiant ether, to bathe oneself in it, to 
 wrap oneself in the sun's pure rays. If Barbicane had 
 only thought of furnishing us with a diving apparatus 
 and an air-pump, I could have ventured out and assumed 
 fanciful attitudes of feigned monsters on the top of the 
 projectile." 
 
 "Well, old Michel," replied Barbicane, "you would not 
 have made a feigned monster long, for in spite of your 
 diver's dress, swollen by the expansion of air withiUjiyou, 
 you would have burst like a shell, or rather like a balloon 
 which has risen too high. So do not regret it, and do 
 not forget this — as long as we float in space, all senti- 
 mental walks beyond the projectile are forbidden." 
 
 Michel Ardan allowed himself to be convinced to a cer- 
 tain extent. He admitted that the thing was difficult 
 but not impossible, a word which he never uttered. 
 
 The conversation passed from this subject to another, 
 not lailing for an instant. It seemed to the three friends 
 as though, under present conditions, ideas shot up in 
 their brains as leaves shoot at the first warmth of spring. 
 They felt bewildered. In the middle of the questions 
 and answers which crossed each other, Nicholl put one 
 question which did not find an immediate solution. 
 
 "Ah, indeed!" said he; "it is all very well to goto 
 the moon, but how to get back again?" 
 
 Sis two interlocutors looked surprised. One would 
 
218 FROM THE EARTH TO TEE MOON: 
 
 have thought that this possibility now occurred to them 
 for the first time. 
 
 "What do yon mean by that, Nicholl?" asked Barbi- 
 cane gravely. 
 
 "To ask for means to leave a country," added Michc-1, 
 "when we have not yet arrived there, seems to me rather 
 inopportune." 
 
 "I do not say that, wishing to draw back," replied 
 Nicholl; "but I repeat my question, and I ask, 'How 
 shall we return?' " 
 
 "I know nothing about it," answered Barbican e. 
 
 "And I," said Michel, "if I had known how to return, 
 I would never have started." 
 
 "There's an answer!" cried Nicholl. 
 
 "I quite approve of Michel's words," said Barbicane; 
 "and add, that the question has no real interest. Later, 
 when we think it advisable to return, we will take counsel 
 'together. If the Columbiad is not there, the projectile 
 will be." 
 
 "That is a step certainly. A ball without a gun!" 
 
 "The gun," replied Barbicane, "can be manufactured. 
 The powder can be made. Neither metals, saltpeter, nor 
 coal can fail in the depths of the moon, and we need only 
 go 8,000 leagues in order to fall npon the terrestrial 
 globe by virtue of the mere laws of weight." 
 
 "Enough," said Michel with animation. "Let it be 
 no longer a question of returning: we have already enter- , 
 tained it too long. As to communicating with our former 
 earthly colleagues, that will not be diflBcult." 
 
 "And how?" 
 
 "By means of meteors launched by lunar volcanoes." 
 
 "Well thought of, Michel," said Barbicane in a con- 
 vinced tone of voice. "Laplace has calculated that a 
 force five times greater than that of our gun would snflSce 
 to send a meteor from the moon to the earth, and there 
 
A MOMENT OF INTOXICATION. 219 
 
 is not one volcano which has not a greater power of pro- 
 pulsion than that." 
 
 "Hurrah!" exclaimed Michel; "these meteors are 
 handy postmen, and cost nothing. And how we shall be 
 able to laugh at the post-office administration! Bat now 
 I think of it " 
 
 "What do you think of ?" 
 
 "A capital idea. Why did we not fasten a thread to 
 our projectile, and we could have exchanged telegrams 
 with the earth?" 
 
 "The deuce!" answered Nicholl. "Do yon consider 
 the weight of a thread 250,000 miles long nothing?" 
 
 "As nothing. They could have trebled the Colum- 
 biad's charge; they could have quadrupled or quintupled 
 it!" exclaimed Michel, with whom the verb took a higher 
 intonation each time. 
 
 "There is but one little objection to make to your prop- 
 osition," replied Barbicane, "which is that, during the 
 rotary motion of the globe, our thread would have wound 
 itself round it like a chain On a capstan, and that it would 
 inevitably have brought us to the ground." 
 
 "By the thirty-nine stars of the Union!" said Michel, 
 "I have nothing but impracticable ideas to-day; ideas 
 worthy of J. T. Maston. But I have a notion that, if we 
 do not return to earth, J. T. Maston will be able to come 
 to ns." 
 
 "Yes, he'll come," replied Barbicane; "be is a worthy 
 aiid a courageous comrade. Besides, what is easier? Is 
 not the Columbiad still buried in the soil of Florida? Is 
 cotton and nitric acid wanted wherewith to manufacture 
 the pyroxile? Will not the moon again pass to the zenith 
 of Florida? In eighteen years' time will she not occupy 
 exactly the same place as to-day?" 
 
 "Yes," continued Michel, "yes, Maston will come, 
 and with him our friends Elphinstone, Blomsberry, all 
 
220 FROM TEE EARTH TO TEE MOOHT. 
 
 the members of the Gun Glub, and they will be well re- 
 ceived. And by and by they will run trains of projectiles 
 between the earth and the moon! Hurrah for J. T. 
 Maston!" 
 
 It is probable that, if the Hon. J. T. Maston did not 
 hear the hurrahs uttered in his honor, his ears at least 
 tingled. What was he doing then? Doubtless, posted 
 in the Eocky Mountains, at the station of Long's Peak, 
 he was trying to find the invisible projectile gravitating 
 in space. If he was thinking of his dear companions, we 
 must allow that they were not far behind him; and that, 
 under the influence of a strange excitement, they were 
 devoting to him their best thoughts. 
 
 But whence this excitement, which was evidently grow- 
 ing upon the tenants of the projectile? Their sobriety 
 could not be doubted. This strange irritation of the 
 brain, must it be attributed to the peculiar circumstances 
 under which they found themselves, to their proximity to 
 the orb of night, from which only a few hours separated 
 them, to some secret influence of the moon acting upon 
 their nervous system? Their faces were as rosy as if they 
 had been exposed to the roaring flames of an oven ; their 
 voices resounded in loud accents; their words escaped 
 like a champagne cork driven out by carbonic acid; their 
 gestures became annoying, they wanted so much room to 
 perform them; and, strange to say, they none of them 
 noticed this great tension of the mind. 
 
 "Now," said Nicholl, in a short tone, "now that I do 
 not know whether we shall ever return from the moon, I 
 want to, know what we are going to do there?" 
 
 "What we are going to do there?" replied Barbicane, 
 stamping with his foot as if he was in a fencing saloon; 
 "I do not know." 
 
 "You do not know!" exclaimed Michel, with a bellow 
 which provoked a sonorous echo in the projectile. 
 
A MOMENT OF INTOXIOATION. 221 
 
 "No, I have not even thought about it," retorted Barb- 
 icane, in the same loud tone. 
 
 "Well, I know," replied Michel. 
 
 "Speak, then," cried Nicholl, who could no longer 
 contain the growling of his voice. 
 
 "I shall speak if it suits me," exclaimed Michel, seiz- 
 ing his companions' arms with violence. 
 
 "It must suit you," said Barbicane, with an eye on fire 
 and a threatening hand. "It was you who drew us into 
 this frightful journey, and we want to know what for." 
 
 "Yes," said the captain, "now that I do not know 
 where I am going, I want to know toTiy I am going." 
 
 "Why?" exclaimed Michel, jumping a yard high, 
 "why? To take possession of the moon in the name of 
 the United States; to add a fortieth State to the Union; 
 to colonize the lunar regions; to cultivate them, to people 
 them, to transport thither all the prodigies of art, of 
 science, and industry; to civilize the Selenites, unless 
 they are more civilized than W'e are; and to constitute 
 them a republic, if they are not already one!" 
 
 "And if there are no Selenites?" retorted Nichol, 
 who, under th« influence of this unaccountable intoxica- 
 tion, was very contradictory. , 
 
 "Who said that there were no Selenites?" exclaimed 
 Michel in a threatening tone. 
 
 "I do," howled Nicholl. 
 
 "Captain," said Michel, "do not repeat that insolence, 
 or I will knock your teeth down your throat!" 
 
 The two adversaries were going to fall upon each other, 
 and the incoherent discussion threatened to merge into a 
 fight, when Barbicane intervened with one bound. 
 
 "Stop, miserable men," said he, separating his two 
 companions; "if there are no Selenites, we will do with- 
 out them." 
 
 "Yes," exclaimed Michel, who was not particular; 
 
222 FBOM TEE EARTH TO TEE MOON. 
 
 "yes, we will do without them. We have only to make 
 Selenites. Down with the Selenites!" 
 
 "The empire of the moon belongs to ns," said NichoU. 
 
 "Let us three constitute the republic." 
 
 "I will be the congress," cried Michel. 
 
 "And I the senate," retorted Nicholl. 
 
 "And Barbicane, the president," howled Michel. 
 
 "Not a president elected by the nation," replied Barbi- 
 cane. 
 
 "Very well, a president elected by the congress," cried 
 Michel; "and as I am the congress, you are unanimously 
 elected!" 
 
 "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! for President Barbicane," 
 exclaimed Nicholl. 
 
 "Hip! hip! hip!" vociferated Michel Ardan. 
 
 Then the president and the senate struck up in a tre- 
 mendous voice the popular song "Yankee Doodle," while 
 from the congress resounded the masculine tones of the 
 "Marseillaise." 
 
 Then they struck up a frantic dance, with maniacal 
 gestures, idiotic stampings, and somersaults like those of 
 the boneless clowns in the circus. Diana, joining in the 
 dance, and howjing in her turn, jumped to the top of the 
 projectile. An unaccountable flapping of wings was then 
 heard amid most fantastic cook-crows, while five or six hens 
 fluttered like bats against the walls. 
 
 Then the three traveling companions, acted upon by 
 some unaccountable influence above that of intoxication, 
 inflamed by the air which had set their respiratory ap- 
 paratus on fire, fell motionless to the bottom of the pro- 
 jectile. 
 
AT 78,514 LEAGUES. 223 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AT SEVENTY-BIGHT THOUSAKD FIVE HUNDRED AND 
 rOURTEEN LEAGUES. 
 
 What had happened? Whence the cause of this singu- 
 lar intoxication, the consequences of which might have 
 been very disastrous? A simple blunder of Michel's, 
 which, fortunately, Nicholl was able to correct in time. 
 
 After a perfect swoon, which lasted some minutes, the 
 captain, recovering first, soon collected his scattered 
 senses. Although he had breakfasted only two hours 
 before, he felt a gnawing hunger, as if he had not eaten 
 anything for several days. Everything about him, 
 stomach and brain, were overexcited to the highest de- 
 gree. He got up and demanded from Michel a supple- 
 mentary repast. Michel, utterly done up, did^ not answer. 
 
 Nicholl then tried to prepare some tea destined to help 
 the absorption of a dozen sandwiches. He first tried to 
 get some fire, and struck a match sharply. What was his 
 surprise to see the sulphur shine with so extraordinary a 
 brilliancy as to be almost unbearable to the eye. From 
 the gas-burner which he lit rose a fiame equal to a jet of 
 electric light. 
 
 A revelation dawned on Nicholl's mind. That inten- 
 sity of light, the physiological troubles which had arisen 
 in him, the overexeitement of all his moral and quarrel- 
 some faculties — he understood all. 
 
 "The oxygen!" he exclaimed. 
 
 And leaning over the air apparatus, he saw that the tap 
 was allowing the scentlesfi oolorless gag to escape freely, 
 
324 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOHT. 
 
 life-giving, but in its pure state producing the gravest 
 disorders in the system. Michel had blunderingly opened 
 the tap of the apparatus to the full. 
 
 Nicholl hastened to stop the escape of oxygen with 
 which the atmosphere was saturated, which would hav« 
 been the death of the travelers, not by suffocation, but by 
 combustion. An hour later, the air less charged with it 
 restored the lungs to their normal condition. By degrees 
 the three friends recovered from their intoxication; but 
 they were obliged to sleep themselves sober over their 
 oxygen as a drunkar,d does over his wine. 
 
 When Michel learned his share of the responsibility of 
 this incident, he was not much disconcerted. This un- 
 expected drunkenness broke the monotony of the journey. 
 Many foolish things had been said while under its in- 
 fluence, but also quickly forgotten. 
 
 "And then," added the merry Frenchman, "I am not 
 sorry to have tasted a little of this heady gas. Do you 
 know, my friends, that a curious establishment might be 
 founded with rooms of oxygen, where people whose system 
 is weakened could for a fe-w hours live a more active life. 
 Fancy parties where the room was saturated with this 
 heroic fluid, theaters where it should be kept at high 
 pressure; what passion in the souls of the actors and 
 spectators! what fire^what enthusiasm! And if, instead 
 of an assembly only a whole people could he saturated, 
 what activity in its functions, what a supplement to life it 
 would derive. From an exhausted nation they might 
 make a great and strong one, and I know more than one 
 state in old Europe which ought to put itself under the 
 regime of oxygen for the sake of its health I" 
 
 Michel spoke with so much animation that one might 
 have fancied that the tap was still too open. But a few 
 words from Barhioane soon scattered his enthusiasm. 
 
 "That is all very well, friend Michel," said he, "'iut 
 
A T 78, 5U LEA UES. 325; 
 
 will you inform ns where these chickens came from which 
 have mixed themselves up in our concert?" 
 
 "Those chickens?" 
 
 "Yes.'-' 
 
 Indeed, half a dozen chickens and a fine cook were 
 walking about, flapping their wings and chattering. 
 
 "Ah, the awkward things!" exclaimed Michel. "The 
 oxygen has made them revolt." 
 
 "But what do you Want to do with these chickens?" 
 asked Barbicane. 
 
 "To acclimatize them in the moon, by Jove!" 
 
 "Then why did you hide them?" 
 
 "A joke, my worthy president, a simple joke, which 
 has proved a miserable failure. I wanted to set them free 
 on the lunar continent, without saying anything. Oh, 
 what would have been your amazement on seeing these 
 earthly-winged animals pecking in 'the lunar fields!" 
 
 "You rascal, you unmitigated rascal," replied Barbi- 
 cane, "yon do not want oxygen to mount to the head. 
 You are always what we were under the influence of 
 the gas; you are always foolish!" 
 
 "Ah, who says that we were not wise then?" replied 
 Michel Ardan. 
 
 After this philosophical reflection, the three friends set 
 about restoring the order of the projectile. Chickens and 
 cock were reinstated in their coop. But while proceed- 
 ing with this operation, Barbicane and his two companions 
 had, a most desired perception of a new phenomenon. 
 From the moment of leaving the earth, tljeir own weight, 
 that of the projectile, and the objects it enclosed, had 
 been subject to an increasing diminution. If they could 
 not prove this 'loss of the projectile, a moment would 
 arrive when it would be sensibly felt upon themselves and 
 the utensils and instruments they used. ^ 
 
 It is needless to say that a scale would pot show thi| 
 
236 FROM TEE 'EARTH TO- THE MOON. 
 
 loss; for the weight destined to weigh the object would 
 have lost exactly as much as the object itself; bnt a 
 spring steelyard for example, the tension of which was 
 independent of the attraction, would have given a just 
 estimate of this loss. 
 
 We know that the attraction, otherwise called the 
 weight, is in proportion to the densities of bodies, and 
 inversely as the squares of the distances. Hence this 
 effect: If the earth had been alone in space, if the other 
 celestial bodies had been suddenly annihilated, the projec- 
 tile, according to Newton's laws, would weigh less as it 
 got farther from the earth, but without ever losing its 
 weight entirely, for the terrestrial attraction would always 
 have made itself felt, at whatever distance. 
 
 But, in reality, a time must come when the projectile 
 would no longer be subject to the law of weight, after 
 allowing for the other celestial bodies whose effect could 
 not be set down as zero. Indeed, the projectile's course 
 was being traced between the earth and the moon. As it 
 distanced the earth, the terrestrial attraction diminished : 
 but the lunar attraction rose in proportion. There must 
 then come a point where these two attractions would neu- 
 tralize each other: the projectile would possess weight no 
 longer. If the moon's and the earth's densities had been 
 equal, this point would have been at an equal distance 
 between the two orbs. But taking the different densities 
 into consideration, it was easy to reckon that this point 
 would be situated at |-Jths of the whole journey, i.e., at 
 78,514 leagues from the earth. At this point, a body 
 having no principle of speed or displacement in itself, 
 would remain immovable forever, being attracted equally 
 by both orbs, and not being drawn more toward one than 
 toward the other. 
 
 Now if the projectile's impulsive force had been cor- 
 rectly calculated, it would ftttain this point witaout speed, 
 
AT 78,51Ji. LEAGUES. 337 
 
 having lost all trace of weight, as well as all the objects 
 within it. What would happen then? Three hypotheses 
 presented themselves. 
 
 1. Either it would retain a certain amount of motion, 
 and pass the point of equal attraction, and fall upon the 
 moon by virtue of the excess of the lunar attraction over 
 the terrestrial. 
 
 2. Or, its speed failing, and unable to reach the point 
 of equal attraction, it would fall upon the moon by virtue 
 of the excess of the lunar attraction over the terrestrial. 
 
 3. Or, lastly, animated with sufBcient speed to enable 
 it to reach the neutral point, but not sufficient to pass it, 
 it would remain forever suspended in that spot like the 
 pretended tomb of Mahomet, between the zenith and the 
 nadir. 
 
 Such was their situation ; and Barbicane clearly ex- 
 plained the consequences to his traveling companions, 
 which greatly interested them. But how should they 
 know when the projectile had reached this neutral point 
 situated at that distance, especially when neither them- 
 selves, nor the objects enclosed in the projectile, would 
 be any longer subject to the laws of weight? 
 
 Up to this time, the travelers, while admitting that 
 this action was constantly degreasing, had not yet become 
 sensible to its total absence. 
 
 But that day, about eleven o'clock in the morning, 
 NichoU having accidentally let a glass slip from his hand, 
 the glass, instead of falling, remained suspended in the 
 air. 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, "that is rather an 
 amusing piece of natural philosophy." 
 
 And immediately divers other objects, firearms and 
 
 bottles, abandoned to themselves, held themselves up as 
 
 . by enchantment'. Diana too, placed in space by Michel, 
 
 reproduced, but without any trick, the wonderful suspen- 
 
228 FROM THE EAUTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 sion practiced by Caston and Eobert Houdin. Indeed 
 the dog did not seem to know that she was floating in air. 
 
 The three adventurous companions were surprised and 
 stupefied, despite their scientific reasonings. They felt 
 themselves being carried into the domain of wonders! 
 they felt that weight was really wanting to their bodies. 
 If they stretched out their arms, they did not attempt to 
 fall. Their heads shook on their shoulders.. Their feet 
 no longer clung to the floor of the projectile. They were 
 like drunken men having no stability in themselevs. 
 
 Fancy has depicted men without reflection, others 
 without shadow. But here reality, by the neutralizations 
 of attractive forces, produced men in whom nothing had 
 any weight, and who weighed nothing themselves. 
 
 Suddenly Michel, taking a spring, left the floor and 
 remained suspended in the air, like Murillo's monk of the 
 Cusine des Anges. -. 
 
 The two friends joined him instantly, and all three 
 formed a miraculous "Ascension" in the center of the 
 projectile. 
 
 "Is it to be believed? is it probable? is it possible?" 
 exclaimed Michel; "and yet it is so. Ah! if Kaphael 
 had seen us thus, what an 'Assumption' he would have 
 thrown upon canvas!" 
 
 "The 'Assumption' cannot last," replied Barbicane. 
 "If the projectile passes the neutral point, the lunar at- 
 traction will draw us to the moon." 
 
 "Then our feet will be upon the roof," replied Michel. 
 
 "No," said Barbicane, "because the projectile's center 
 of gravity is very low,; it will only turn by degrees." 
 
 "Then all our portables will be upset from top to bot- 
 tom, that is a fact." 
 
 "Calm yourself, Michel," replied Nicholl; "no upset 
 is to be feared; not a thing will move, for the projectile's 
 evolution will be imperceptible." 
 
A T 78, 5 U LEA G UBS. 229 
 
 "Just so," continued Barbicane; "and when it has 
 passed the point of equal attraction, its base, being the 
 heavier, will draw it perpendicularly to the moon ; but, in 
 order that this phenomenon should take place, we must 
 have passed the neutral line." 
 
 "Pass the neutral line," cried Michel; "then let ns do 
 as the sailors do when they cross the equator." 
 
 A slight side movement brought Michel back toward 
 the padded side; thence he took a bottle and glasses, 
 placed them "in space" before his companions, and, 
 drinking merrily, they saluted the line with a triple 
 hurrah. The influence of these attractions scarcely lasted 
 an hour; the travelers felt themselves insensibly drawn 
 toward the floor, and Barbicane fancied that the conical 
 end of the projectile was varying a little from its normal 
 direction toward the moon. By an inverse motion the 
 base was approaching first; the lunar attraction was pre- 
 vailing over the terrestrial; the fall toward the moon was 
 beginning, almost imperceptibly as yet, but by degrees 
 the attractive force would become stronger, the fall would 
 be more decided, the projectile, drawn by its base, would 
 turn its cone to the earth, and fall with ever-increasing 
 speed on to the surface of the Selenite continent; their des- 
 tination would then be attained. Now nothing could pre- 
 vent the success of their enterprise, and Nicholl and Michel 
 Ardan shared Barbicane's joy. 
 
 Then they chatted of all the phenomena which had 
 astonished them one after the other, particularly the neu- 
 tralization of the laws of weight. Michel Ardan, always 
 enthusiastic, drew conclusions which were purely fanciful. 
 
 "Ah, my worthy friends," he exclaimed, "what pro- 
 gress we should make if on earth we could throw off some 
 of that weight, sopie of that chain which binds us to her; 
 it would be the prisoner set at liberty; no more fatigue of 
 either arms or legs. Or, if it is true that in order to fly 
 
230 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 on the earth's surface, to keep oneself suspended in the 
 air merely by the play of the muscles, there requires a 
 strength a hundred and fifty times greater than that 
 which we possess, a simple act of volition, a caprice, would 
 bear us into space, if attraction did not exist." 
 
 "Just so," said Nicholl, smiling; "if we could succeed 
 in suppressing weight as they suppress pain by anaesthesia, 
 that would change the face of modern society!" 
 
 "Yes," cried Michel, full of his subject, "destroy 
 weight, and no more burdens!" 
 
 "Well said," replied Barbicane; "but if nothing had 
 any weight, nothing would keep in its place, not even yonr 
 hat on your head, worthy Michel; nor your house, whose 
 stones only adhere by weight; not a boat, whose stability 
 on the water is caused only by weight; not even the 
 ocean, whose waves would no longer be equalized by ter- 
 restrial attraction ; and lastly, not even the atmosphere, 
 whose atoms, being no longer held in their places, would 
 disperse in space!" 
 
 "That is tiresome," retorted Michel; "nothing like 
 these matter-of-fact people for bringing one back to the 
 bare reality." 
 
 "But console yourself, Michel," continued Barbicane, 
 "for if no orb exists from whence all laws of weight are 
 banished, you are at least going to visit one where it is 
 much less than on the earth." 
 
 "The moon?" 
 
 "Yes, the moon, on whose surface objects weigh six 
 times less than on the earth, a phenomenon easy to 
 prove." 
 
 "And we shall feel it?" asked Michel. 
 
 "Evidently, as two hundred pounds will only weigh 
 thirty pounds on the surface of the moon." 
 
 "And our muscular strength will not diminish?" 
 
A T 78, 5U LEA 9 UE8. 231 
 
 "!N"ot at all; instead of jumping one yard high, yon 
 will rise eighteen feet high." 
 
 "But we shall be regular Herculeses in the moon!" ex- 
 claimed Michel. 
 
 "Yes," replied Nicholl; "for if the height of the 
 Selenites is in proportion to the density of their globe, 
 they will be scarcely afoot high." 
 
 "Lilliputians!" ejaculated Michel; "I shall play the 
 part of Gulliver. We are going to realize the fable of the 
 giants. This is the advantage of leaving one's own planet 
 and overrunning the solar world." 
 
 "One moment, Michel," answered Barbicane; "if yon 
 wish to play the part 'of Gulliver, only visit the inferior 
 planets, such as Mercury, Venus, or Mars, whose density 
 is a little less than that of the earth ; but do not venture 
 into the great planets, Jupiter, Saturn, TJranus, Neptune; 
 for there the order will be changed, and yon will become 
 Lilliputian." 
 
 "And in the sun?" 
 
 "In the sun, if its density is thirteen hundred and 
 twenty-four thousand times greater, and the attraction is 
 twenty-seven times greater than on the surface of our 
 globe, keeping everything in proportion, the inhabitants 
 ought to be at least two hundred feet high." 
 
 "By Jove!" exclaimed Michel; "I should be nothing 
 more than a pigmy, a shrimp!" 
 
 "Gulliver with the giants," said Nicholl. 
 
 "Just so," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "And it would not be quite useless to carry some pieces 
 of artillery to defend oneself." 
 
 "Good," replied Nicholl; "your projectiles would have 
 no efEect on the sun ; they would fall back on the earth after 
 some minutes." 
 
 "That is a strong remark." 
 
 "It is certain," replied Barbicane; "the attraction ia so 
 
832 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 great on this enormons orb, that an object weighing 
 70,000 pounds on the earth would weigh but 1,920 pounds 
 on the surface of the sun. If you were to fall upon it you 
 would weigh — let me see — about 5,000 pounds, a weight 
 which you would never be able to raise again." 
 
 "The devil!" said Michel; "one would want a portable 
 crane. However, we will be satisfied with the moon for 
 the present; there at least we shall cut a great figure. 
 We will see about the sun by and by." 
 
THE CONSEQUENCES OF A DEVIATION. 233 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE CONSEQUENCES OF A DEVIATION. 
 
 Barbicane had now no fear of the issue of the journey, 
 at least as far as the projectile's impulsive force was con- 
 cerned; its own speed would carry it beyond the neutral 
 line; it would certainly not return to the earth; it would 
 certainly not remain motionless on the line of attraction. 
 One single hypothesis remained to be realized, the arrival 
 of the projectile at its destination by the action of the 
 Inaar attraction. 
 
 It was in reality a fall' of 8,296 leagues on an orb, it is 
 true, where weight could only be reckoned at one-sixth of 
 terrestrial weight; a formidable fall, nevertheless, and 
 one against which every precaution must be taken with- 
 out delay. 
 
 These precautions were of two sorts, some to deaden 
 the shock whan the projectile should touch the lunar soil, 
 others to delay the fall, and consequently make it less 
 violent. 
 
 To deaden the shock, it was a pity that Barbicane was no 
 longer able to employ the means which had so ably weiak- 
 ened the shock at departure, that is to say, by water used 
 as springs and the partition-breaks. 
 
 The partitions still existed but water failed, for they 
 could not use their reserve, which was precious, in case 
 during the first days the liquid element should be found 
 wanting on lunar soil. 
 
 And indeed this reserve would have been quite insuf- 
 ficient for a spring. The layer of water stored in the pro- 
 
234 FROM THE MARTS TO THE MOON. 
 
 jentile at the time of starting upon their journey occupied 
 no less than three feet in depth, and spread over a ^r- 
 face of not less than fifty-four square feet. Besides, the 
 cistern did not contain one-fifth part of it; they must 
 therefore give up this efficient means of deadening the 
 shock of arrival. Happily, Barbicane, not contipnt with 
 employing water, had furnished the movable disc with 
 strong spring plugs, destined to lessen the shock against 
 the base after the breaking of the horizontal partitions. 
 These plugs still existed; they had only to readjust them 
 and replace the movable disc; every piece, easy to handle, 
 as their weight was now scarcely felt, was quickly 
 mounted. 
 
 The different pieces were fitted without trouble, it 
 being only a matter of bolts and screws; tools were not 
 wanting, and soon the reinstated disc lay on steel plugs, 
 like a table on its legs. One inconvenience resulted from 
 the replacing of the disc, the lower window was blocked 
 up; thus "it was impossible for the travelers to observe the 
 moon from that opening while they were being precipitated 
 perpendicularly upon her; but they were obliged to give 
 it up; even by the side openings they could still see vast 
 lunar regions, as an aeronaut sees the earth from his car. 
 
 This replacing of the disc was at least an hour's work. 
 It was past twelve when all preparations were finished. 
 Barbicane took fresh observations on the inclination of 
 the projectile, but to hia annoyance it had not turned 
 over sufficiently for its fall; it seemed to take a curve- 
 parallel to the lunar disc. The orb of night shone splen- 
 didly into space, while opposite, the orb of day blazed 
 with fire. 
 
 Their situation began to make them uneasy. 
 
 "Are we reaching our destination?" said Nicholl. 
 
 "Let us act as if we were about reaching it," replied 
 Barbicane. 
 
THE CONSEQUENOES OF A DEVIATION. 235 
 
 "You are sceptical," retorted Michel Ardan. "We 
 shall arrive, and that, too, quicker than we like." 
 
 This answer brought Barbicane back to his prepara- 
 tions, and he occupied himself with placing the contri- 
 vances intended to break their descent. We may remem- 
 ber the scene of the meeting held at Tampa Town, in 
 Florida, when Captain Nicholl came forward as Barbi- 
 : cane's enemy and Michel Ardan's adversary. To Captain 
 Nicholl's maintaining that the projectile would smash 
 like glass, Michel replied that he wonld break their fall 
 by means of rockets properly placed. 
 
 Thus, powerful fireworks, taking their starting-point 
 from the base and bursting outside, could, by producing 
 a recoil, check to a certain degree the projectile's speed. 
 These rockets were to burn in space, it is true; but 
 oxygen would not fail them, for they could supply them- 
 selves with it, like the lunar volcanoes, the burning of 
 which has never yet been stopped by the want of atmos- 
 phere round the moon. 
 
 Barbicane had accordingly supplied himself with these 
 fireworks, enclosed in little steel guns, which could be 
 screwed on to the base of the projectile. Inside, these 
 guns were flush with the bottom; outside, they pro- 
 truded about eighteen inches. There vvere twenty of 
 them. An opening left in the disc allowed them to light 
 the match with which each was provided. All the effect 
 was felt outside. The burning mixture had been already 
 rammed into each gun. They had, then, nothing to do 
 but to raise the metallic buffers fixed in the base, and 
 replace them by the guns, which fitted closely in their 
 places. 
 
 This new work was finished about three o'clock, and 
 after taking all these precautions thgre remained but to 
 wait. But the projectile was peragptibly nearing the 
 moon, and evidently sacoambed to \m ilt^uencf to a car- 
 
236 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 tain degree; though its own velocity also drew it in an 
 oblique direction. From these conflicting influences re- 
 sulted a line which might become a tangent. But it waa 
 certain that the projectile would not fall directly on the 
 moon ; for its lower part, by reason of its weight, ought 
 to bo turned toward her. 
 
 fiarbicane's uneasiness increased as he saw his projectile 
 resist the influence of gravitation. The Unknown was 
 opening before him, the Unknown in interplanetary 
 apace. The man of science thought he had foreseen the 
 only three hypotheses possible — the return to the earth, 
 the return to the moon, or stagnation on the neutral line; 
 and here a fourth hypothesis, big with all the terrors of 
 the Infinite, surged up inopportunely. To face it with- 
 out flinching, one must be a resolute savant like Barbi- 
 cane, a phlegmatic being like Nieholl, or an audacious 
 adventurer like Michel Ardan. 
 
 Conversation was started upon this subject. Other 
 men would have considered the question from a practical 
 point of view; they would have asked themselves whither 
 their projectile carriage was carrying them. Noif so with 
 these; they sought for the cause which produced this 
 effect. 
 
 "So we have become diverted from our route," said 
 Michel; "but why?" 
 
 "I very much fear," answered Nieholl, "that, in spite 
 of all precautions taken, the Colambiad was not fairly 
 pointed. An error, however small, would be enough to 
 throw us out of the moon's attraction." 
 
 "Then they must have aimed badly?" asked Michel. 
 
 "I do not think so," replied Barbicane. "The pei 
 pendicularity of the gun was exact, its direction to the 
 zenith of the spot incontestible; and the moon passing to 
 the zenith of the spot, we ought to reach it at the full. 
 There is another reason, but it escapes me." 
 
THE G0N8EQUENCM8 OF A DEVIATION. 23? 
 
 "Are we not arriving too late?" asked NiohoU. 
 
 "Too late?" said Barbicane. 
 
 "Yes," continued JSTicholl. "The Oambridge Observa- 
 tory's note says that the transit ought to be accomplished 
 In ninety-seven hours thirteen jninutes and twenty 
 seconds; which means to say, that sooner the moon will 
 not be at the point indicated, and that later it will havei 
 passed it." 
 
 "Truoj" replied Barbicane. "But we started the 1st 
 of December, at thirteen minutes and twenty -five seconds 
 to eleven at night; and we ought to arrive on the 5th at 
 midnight, at the exact moment when the moon would he 
 full; and we are now at the 5th of December. It is now 
 half-past three in the evening; half -past eight ought to 
 see us at the end of our journey. Why do we not 
 arrive?" 
 
 "Might it not be an excess of speed?" answered 
 Nioholl; "for we know now that its initial velocity was 
 greater than they supposed." 
 
 "No! a hundred times,, no!" replied Barbicane. "An 
 excess of speed, if the direction of the projectile had been 
 right, would not have prevented us reaching the moon^ 
 No, there has been a deviation. We have been turned 
 out of our course." 
 
 "By whom? by what?" asked Nicholl. 
 
 "I cannot say," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "Very well, then, Barbicane," said Michel, "do you 
 wish to know my opinioQ on the subjeict of finding out 
 this deviation?" 
 
 "I would not give half a dollar to know it. That we 
 have deviated is, a fact. Where we are going to matters 
 little; we shall soon see. Since we are being borne along in 
 space we shall end by falling into eoiae center oj attrac- 
 tioa or other." 
 
238 FROM TEE EASTS TO THE MOON. 
 
 Michel Ardan's indifference did not content Barbicane. 
 Not that he was uneasy about the future, but he wanted 
 to know at any cost why his projectile had deviated. 
 
 But the projectile continued its course sideways to the 
 moon, and with it the mass of things thrown out. Barb- 
 icane could even prove, by the elevations which served as 
 landmarks upon the moon, which was only two thousand 
 leagues distant, that its speed was becoming uniform — 
 fresh proof that there was no fall. Its impulsive force 
 still prevailed over the lunar attraction, but the projec- 
 tile's course was certainly bringing it nearer to the moon, 
 and they might hope that at a nearer point the weight, 
 predominating, would cause a decided fall. 
 
 The three friends, having nothing better to do, con- 
 tinued their observations; but they could not yet deter- 
 mine the topographical position of the satellite; every 
 relief was leveled under the reflection of the solar rays. 
 
 They watched thus through the side windows until 
 eight o'clock at night. The moon had then grown so 
 large in their eyes that it filled half of the firmament. 
 The sun on one side, and the orb of night on the other, 
 flooded the projectile with light. 
 
 At that moment Barbicane thought he could estimate 
 the distance which separated them from their aim at no 
 more than 700 leagues. The speed of the projectile seemed 
 to him to be more than 200 yards, or about 170 leagues a 
 second. Under the centripetal force, the base of the 
 projectile tended toward the moon; but the centrifugal 
 still prevailed; and it was probable that its rectilineal 
 course would be changed to a curve of some sort, the 
 nature of which they could not at present determine. 
 
 Barbicane was still seeking the solution of his insolu- 
 ble problem. Hours passed without any result. The 
 projectile was evidently nearing the moon, but it was also 
 evident that it would never reach h@r. As tQ the nearest 
 
TEE CONSEqUENCES OP A BEYIATION. 839 
 
 distance at which it would pass her, that mnst be the 
 result of the two forces, attr%ction and repulsion, affect- 
 ing its motion. 
 
 "I ask but one thing," said Michel; "that we may pass 
 near enough to penetrate her secrets." 
 
 "Cursed be the thing that has caused our projectile to 
 deviate from its course," cried Nicholl. 
 
 And, as if a light had suddenly broken in upon his 
 mind, Barbicane answered, "Then cursed be the meteor 
 which crossed our path." 
 
 "What?" said Michel Ardan. 
 
 "What do you mean?" exclaimed NichoU. 
 
 "I mean," said Barbicane in a decided tone, "I mean 
 that our deviation is owing solely to our meeting with 
 this erring body." 
 
 "But it did not even brush us as it passed," said Michel. 
 
 "What does that matter? Its mass, compared to that 
 of our projectile, was enormous, and its attraction was 
 enough to influence onr course." 
 
 "So little?" cried Nicboll. 
 
 "Yes, NichoU; but however little it might be," replied 
 Barbicane, "in a distance of 84,000 leagues, it wanted no 
 more to make us miss the moon." 
 
240' FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE OBSERVERS OF THE MOON. 
 
 Babbicaxe had evidently hit upon the only plansible 
 reason of this deviation. However slight it might have 
 been, it had sufficed to modify the course of the projectile. 
 It was a fatality. The bold attempt had miscarried by a 
 fortuitous circumstance; and unless by some exceptional 
 event, they could now never reach the moon's disc 
 
 Would they pass near enough to be able to solve certain 
 physical and geological questions until then insoluble? 
 This was the question, and the only one, which occupied 
 the minds of these bold travelers. As to the fate in store 
 for themselves, they did not even dream of it. 
 
 But what would become of them amid these infinite 
 sdlitudes, these who would soon want air? A few more 
 days, and they would fall stifled in this wandering pro- 
 jectile. But some days to these intrepid fellows was a 
 century; and they devoted all their time to observe that 
 moon which they no longer hoped to reach. 
 
 The distance which then separated the projectile 
 from the satellite was estimated at about two hundred 
 leagues. Under these conditions, as regards the visibility 
 of the details of the disc, the travelers were farther from 
 the moon than are the inhabitants of the earth with their 
 powerful telescopes. 
 
 • Indeed, we know that the instrument mounted by Lord 
 Eosse at Parsonstown, which magnifies 6,500 times, brings 
 the moon to within an apparent distance of sixteen 
 leagues. And more than that, with the powerful one set 
 
THE 0B8EBVEB8 OF THE MOON. ,341 
 
 np at Long's Peak, the orb of night, magnified 48,000 
 times, is brought to within less than two leagues, and 
 objects having a diameter of thirty feet are seen very 
 distinctly. So that, at this distance, the topographical 
 details of the moon, observed without glasses, could not 
 be determined with precision. The eye caught the vast 
 outline of those immense depres,sions inappropriately) 
 called "seas," but they could not recognize their nature.' 
 The prominence of the mountains disappeared under the 
 splendid irradiation produced by the reflection of the solar 
 rays. The eye, dazzled as if it was leaning over a bath of 
 molten silver, turned from it involuntarily; but the 
 oblong form of the orb was quite clear. It appeared like 
 a gigantic egg, with the small end turned toward the 
 earth. Indeed the moon, liquid and pliable in the first 
 days of its formation, was originally a perfect sphere; 
 but, being soon drawn within the attraction of th6 earth, 
 it became elongated under the influence of gravitation. 
 In becoming a satellite, she lost her native purity of 
 form ; her center of gravity was in advance of the center 
 of her figure; and from this fact some savants draw the 
 conclusion that the air and water had taken refuge on 
 the opposite surface of the moon, which is never seen 
 from the earth. This alteration in the primitive form of 
 the satellite was only perceptible for a few moments. 
 The distance of the projectile from the moon diminished 
 very rapidly under its speed, though that was much less 
 than its initial velocity — but eight or nine times greater 
 than that which propels our express trains. The oblique 
 course of the projectile, from its very obliquity, gave 
 Michel Ardan some hopes of striking the lunar disc at 
 some point or other. He could not think that they would 
 never reach it. No! he could not believe it; and this 
 opinion he often repeated. But Barbicane, who was a 
 better judge, always answered him with merciless logic. 
 
242 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 tn 
 
 'No, Michel, no! We can only reach the moon by a 
 fall, and we are not falling. The centripetal force keeps 
 ns under the moon's influence, but the centrifugal force 
 draws us irresistibly away from it." 
 
 This was said in a tone which quenched Michel Ardan's 
 last hope. 
 
 The portion of the moon which the projectile was sear- 
 ing was the northern hemisphere, that which the seleno- 
 graphic maps place below; for these maps are generally 
 drawn, after the outline given by the glasses, and we 
 know that they reverse the objects. Such was the Mappa 
 Selenographica of Bceer and Moedler which Barbicane 
 consulted. This northern hemisphere presented vast 
 plains, dotted with isolated mountains. 
 
 At midnight the moon was full. At that precise mo- 
 ment the travelers should have alighted upon it, if the 
 mischievous meteor had not diverted their course. The 
 orb was exactly in the condition determined by the Cam- 
 bridge Observatory. It was mathematically at its perigee, 
 and at the zenith of the twenty-eighth parallel. An ob- 
 server placed /at the bottom of the enormous Golumbiad, 
 pointed perpendicularly to the horizon, would have 
 framed the moon in the mouth of the gun. A straight 
 line drawn through the axis of the piece would have 
 passed through the center of the orb of night. It is 
 needless to say, that during the night of the 5th-6th of 
 December, the travelers took not an instant's rest. Could 
 they close their eyes when so near this new world? No! 
 All their feelings were concentrated in one single thought: 
 — See! Kepresentatives of the earth, of humanity, past 
 and present, all centered in them ! It is through their 
 eyes that the human race look at these lunar regions, and 
 penetrate the secrets of their satellite! A strange emo- 
 tion filled their hearts as they went from one window to 
 the other. Their observations, reproduced by Barbicane, 
 
TBE OSBBRVMM OF TBB MOOlT. 243 
 
 were rigidly determined^ To take them, they had glasses; 
 to correct them, maps. 
 
 As regards the optical instruments at their disposal, 
 they had excellent marine glasses specially oonstrncted 
 for this journey. They possessed magnifying powers of 
 100. They would thus have brought the moon to within 
 a distance (apparent) of less than 3,000 leagues from the 
 earth. But then, at a distance which for three hours in 
 the morning did not exceed sixty-five miles, and in a 
 medium free from all atmospheric disturbances, these 
 instruments could reduce the lunar surface to within leas 
 than 1,500 yards! 
 
244 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOIT. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 FANCY AND KEALITY. 
 
 "Have yon ever seen the moon?" asked a professor, 
 ironically, of one of his pupils. 
 
 "No, sir!" replied the pupil, still more ironically, "but 
 I must say I have heard it spoken of." 
 
 In one sense, the pupil's witty answer might be given 
 by a large majority of sublunary beings. How many 
 people have heard speak of the moon who have never 
 seen it — at least through a glass or a telescope! How 
 many have never examined the map of their satellite! 
 
 In looking at a selenographic map, one peculiarity 
 strikes us. Contrary to the arrangement followed for 
 that of the Earth and Mars, the continents occupy more 
 particularly the southern hemisphere of the lunar globe. 
 These continents do not show such decided, clear, and 
 regular boundary lines as South America, Africa, and the 
 Indian peninsula. Their angular, capricious, and deeply 
 indented coasts are rich in gulfs and peninsulas. They 
 remind one of the confusion in the islands of the Sound, 
 where the land is excessively indented. If navigation 
 ever existed on the surface of the moon, it must have 
 been wonderfdlly difiBcult and dangerous; and we may 
 well pity the Selenite sailors and hydrographers; the 
 former, when they came upon these perilous coasts, the 
 latter when they took the soundings of its stormy banks. 
 
 We may also notice that, on the lunar sphere, the south 
 pole is much more continental than the north pole. On 
 the latter, there is but one slight strip of land separated 
 
FABCT AND REALITY. 245 
 
 from other continents by vast seas. Toward the south, 
 continents clothe almost the whole of the hemisphere. It 
 is even possible that the Selenites have already planted 
 the flag on one of their poles, while Franklin, Boss, Kane, 
 Dnmont, d'tTrvillo, and Lambert have never yet been 
 'able to attain that unknown point of the terrestrial globe. 
 
 As to islands, they are numerous on the surface of the 
 moon. Nearly all oblong or circular, and as if traced 
 with the compass, they seem to form one vast archipeiago, 
 equal to that charming group lying between Greece and 
 Asia Minor, and which mythology in ancient times 
 adorned with most graceful legends. Involuntarily the 
 names of Naxos, Tenedos, and Carpathos, rise before the 
 mind, and we seek vainly for Ulysses' vessel or the "clip- 
 per" of the Argonauts; So at least it was in Michel 
 Ardan's eyes. To him it was a Grecian archipelago that 
 he saw on the map. To the eyes of his matter-of-fact 
 companions, the aspect of these coasts recalled rather the 
 parceled-out land of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, 
 and where the Frenchman discovered traces of the heroies 
 of fable, these Americans were marking the most favor- 
 able points for the establishment of stores in the interests 
 of lunar commerce and industry. 
 
 After wandering over these vast continents, the eye is 
 attracted by still gteater seas. Not only their formation, 
 but their situation and aspect remind one of the terrestrial 
 oceans; but again, as on earth, these seas occupy the 
 greater portion of the globe. But in point of fact, these 
 are not liquid spaces, but plains, the nature of which the 
 travelers hoped soon to determine. Astronomers, we 
 must allow, have graced these pretended seas with at 
 least odd names, which science has respected up to the 
 present time. Michel Ardan was right when he com- 
 pared this map to a "Tendre card," got up by a Scudary 
 or a Cyrano de Bergerac. "Only," said he, "it is no 
 
Me FROM TEE EARTH TO TBE MOON. 
 
 longer the sentimental card of the seventeenth century; 
 it Is the card of life, very neatly divided into two parts, 
 one feminine, the other masculine; the right hemisphere 
 for woman, the left for man." 
 
 In speaking thus, Michel made his prosaic companions 
 shrug their shoulders. Barbicane and Nicholl looked' 
 upon the lunar map from a very difEerent point of view 
 to that of their fantastic friend. Nevertheless, their 
 fantastic friend was a little in the right. Judge for your- 
 selves. 
 
 In the left hemisphere stretches the "Sea of Clouds," 
 where human reason is so often shipwrecked. Not far 
 ofE lies the "Sea Of Eains," fed by all the fever of exist- 
 ence. Near this is the "Sea of Storms," where man is 
 ever fighting against his passions, which too often gain 
 the victory. Then, worn out by deceit, treasons, infidel- 
 ity, and the whole body of terrestrial misery, what does 
 he find at the end of his career? that vast "Sea of 
 Humors," barely softened by some drops of the waters 
 from the, "Gulf of Dew!" Clouds, rain, storms, and 
 humors — does the life of man contain aught but these? 
 and is it not summed up in these four words? 
 
 The right hemisphere, "dedicated to the ladies," en- 
 closes smaller seas, whose significant names contain every 
 incident of a feminine existence. There is the "Sea of 
 Serenity," over which the young girl bends; "The Lake 
 of Dreams," reflecting a joyous future; "The Sea of 
 Nectar," with its waves of tenderness and breezes of love; 
 "The Sea of Fruitfulness;" "The Sea of Crises;" then 
 the "Sea of Vapors," whose dimensions are perhaps a 
 little too confined ; and lastly, that vast "Sea of Tranquil- 
 lity," in which every false passion, every useless dream, 
 every unsatisfied desire is at length absorbed, and whose 
 waves emerge peacefully into the "Lake of Death!" 
 
 What a strange succession of names! What a singolar 
 
FANOr AND REALITY. 24? 
 
 division of the moon's two hemispheres, joined to one an- 
 other like man and woman, and forming that sphere of 
 life carried into space! And was not the fantastic Michel 
 right in thns interpreting the fancies of the ancient 
 astrondmers? But while his imagination thns roved over 
 "the seas," his grave companions were considering things 
 more geographically. They were learning this new world 
 J)j heart. They were measuring angles and diameters. 
 
34« ^ROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOHT. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OBOGBAPHIC DETAILS. 
 
 The course taken by the projectile, as we have befora 
 remarked, was bearing it toward the moon's northern 
 hemisphere. The travelers were far from the central 
 point which, they would have struck, had their course not 
 been stibject to an irremediable deviation. It was past 
 midnight; and Barbicane then estimated the distance at 
 seven hundred and fifty miles, which was a little greater 
 than the length of the lunar radius, and which would 
 diminish as it advanced nearer to the North Pole. The 
 projectile was then not at the altitude of the equator; but 
 across the tenth parallel, and from that latitude, carefully 
 taken on the map to the pole, Barbicane and bis two 
 companions were able to observe the moon under the most 
 favorable conditions. Indeed, by means of glasses, the 
 above-named distance was reduced to little more than four- 
 teen miles. The telescope of the Rocky Mountains brought 
 the moon much nearer; but the terrestrial atmosphere 
 singularly lessened its power. Thus Barbicane, posted in 
 his projectile, with the glasses to his eyes, could seize upon 
 details which were almost imperceptible to earthly ob* 
 servers. 
 
 "My friends," said the president, in a serious voice, 
 "I do not know whither we are going; I do not know 
 if we shall ever see the terrestrial globe again. Never- 
 theless, let us proceed as if our work would one day be 
 useful to our fellow-men. Let us keep our minds 
 free from every other consideration. We are astron- 
 
OROOBAPHIC DETAILS. 349 
 
 omers; and this projectile is a room in the Cambridge 
 University, carried into space. Let ns make our obser- 
 vations!" 
 
 This said, -work was begun with great exactness; and 
 they faithfully reproduced the different aspects of the 
 moon, at the different distances which the projectile 
 reached. 
 
 At the time that the projectile was as high as the tenth 
 parallel, north latitude, it seemed rigidly to follow the 
 twentieth degree, east longitude. We must here make 
 one important remark with regard to the map by which 
 they we're taking observations. In the selenographical 
 maps where, on account of the reversing of the objects 
 V by the glasses, the south is above and the north below, it 
 would seem natural that, on account of that inversion, 
 f / the east should be to the left hand, and the west to the 
 right. But it is not so. If the map were turned upside 
 down, showing the moon as we see her, the east would be 
 to the left, and the west to the right, contrary to that 
 which exists on terrestrial maps. The following is the 
 reason of this anomaly. Observers in the northern hemis- 
 phere (say in Europe) see the moon in the soutb — accord- 
 ing to them. When they take observations, they turn 
 their backs to the north, the reverse position to that 
 which they occupy when they study a terrestrial map. 
 As they turn their backs to the north, the east is on their 
 left, and the west to their right. To observers in the 
 southern hemisphere (Patagonia for example), the moon's 
 west would be quite to their left, and the east to their 
 right, as the south is behind them. Such is the reason 
 of the apparent reversing of these two cardinal points, 
 and we must bear it in mind in order to be able to follow 
 President Barbicane's observations. 
 
 With the help of Boeer and Moedler's Mappa Seleno- 
 grapMca, the travelers were abje at once to recognize that 
 
250 FROM TEE EARTE TO TEE MOOK. 
 
 portion of the disc enclosed within the field of theif 
 glasses. 
 
 "What are we looking at, at this moment?" asked 
 Michel. 
 
 "At the northern part of the 'Sea of Clonds,' " an- 
 swered Barbicane. "We are too far off to recognize its 
 nature. Are these plains composed of arid sand, as the 
 first astronomer maintained? Or are they nothing bnt 
 immense forests, according to M. Warren de la Eue's 
 i)pinion, who gives the moon an atmosphere, though a 
 *ery low and a very dense one? That we shall know by 
 and by. We must affirm nothing until we are in a posi- 
 tion to do so." 
 
 This "Sea of Clouds" is rather doubtfully marked out 
 upon the maps. It is supposed that these vast plains are 
 strewn with blocks of lava from the neighboring volcanoes 
 on its right, Ptolemy, Purbach, Arzachel. But tiie pro- 
 jectile was advancing, and sensibly nearing it. Soon 
 there appeared the heights which bound this sea at this 
 northern limit. Before them rose a mountain radiant 
 with beauty, the top of which seemed lost in an eruption 
 of solar rays. 
 
 "That is—?" asked Michel. 
 
 "Copernicus," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "Let us see Copernicus." 
 
 This mount, situated in 9° north latitude and 20° east 
 longitude, rose to a height of 10,600 feet above the snr- 
 lace of the moon. It is quite visible from the earth; 
 and astronomers can study it with ease, particularly dur- 
 ing the phase between the last quarter and the new moon, 
 because then the shadows are thrown lengthways from 
 east to west, allowing them to measure the heights. 
 
 This Copernicus forms the most important of the radiat- 
 ing system, situated in the southern hemisphere, accord- 
 ing to Tycho Brah6. ^^t rises isolated like a gigantic 
 
OEOGBAPHIO DETAILS. 251 
 
 lighthouse on that portion of the "Sea of Clouds," which 
 is bounded by the "Sea of Tempests," thus lighting by 
 its splendid rays two oceans at a time. It was a sight 
 without an equal, those long luminous trains, so dazzling 
 in the full moon, and which, passing the boundary chain 
 on the north, extends to the "Sea of Eains." Atone 
 o'clock of the terrestrial morning, the projectile, like a 
 balloon borne into space, overlooked the top of this superb 
 mount. Barbicane could recognize perfectly its chief 
 features. Copernicus is comprised in the series of ringed 
 mountains of the first order, in the division of great cir- 
 cles. Like Kepler and Aristarchus, which overlook the 
 "Ocean of Tempests," sometimes it appeared like a bril- 
 liant point through the cloudy light, and was taken for a 
 volcano in activityo But it is only an extinct one — like 
 all on that side of the moon. Its circumference showed 
 a diameter of about twenty -two leagues. The glasses dis- 
 covered traces of stratification produced by successive 
 eruptions, and the neighborhood was strewn with vol- 
 canic remains which still choked some of the craters. 
 
 "There exist," said Barbicane, "several kinds of cir- 
 cles on the surface of the moon, and it is easy to see that 
 Copernicus belongs to the radiating class. If we were 
 nearer, we should see the cones bristling on the inside, 
 which in former times were so many fiery mouths. A 
 curious arrangement, and one without an exception on 
 the lunar disc, is that the interior surface of these circles 
 is the reverse of the exterior, and contrary to the form 
 taken by terrestrial craters. It follows, then, that the 
 general curve of the bottom of these circles gives a sphere 
 of a smaller diameter than that of the moon." 
 
 "And why this peculiar disposition?" asked Nicholl. 
 
 "We do not know," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "What splendid radiation !" said Michel. "One conld 
 bardly see a finer spectacle, I think." 
 
252 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "What wonld yon say, then, "replied Barbicane, "il 
 chance should bear us toward the southern hemisphere?" 
 
 "Well, I should say that it, was still more beautiful," 
 retorted Michel Ardan. 
 
 >Afc this moment the projectile hung perpendicularly 
 over the circle. The circumference of Copernicus formed 
 almost a perfect circle, and its steep escarpments were 
 clearly defined. They could even distinguish a second ' 
 ringed enclosure. Around spread a grayish plain, of a wild 
 aspect, on which every relief was marked in yellow. At 
 the bottom of the circle, as if enclosed in a jewel case, 
 sparkled for one instant two or three eruptive cones, like 
 enormous dazzling gems. Toward the north the escarp- 
 ments were lowered by a depression which would probably 
 have given access to the interior of the crater. 
 
 In passing over the surrounding plains, Barbicane 
 noticed a great number of less important mountains; and 
 among others a little ringed one called Guy Lussac, the 
 breadth of which measured twelve miles. 
 
 Toward the south, the plain was very flat, without one 
 elevation, without one projection. Toward the north, on 
 the contrary, till where it was bounded by the "Sea of 
 Storms," it resembled a liquid surface agitated by a storm, 
 of which the hills and hollows formed- a succession of 
 waves suddenly congealed. Over the whole of this, and 
 in all directions, lay the luminous lines, all converging to 
 the summit of Copernicus. 
 
 The travelers discussed the origin of these strange rays; 
 but they could not determine their nature any more than 
 terrestrial observers. , 
 
 "But why," said Nicholl, "should not these rays be 
 simply spurs of mountains which reflect more vividly the 
 light of the sun?" 
 
 "No," replied Barbicane; "if it was so, under certain 
 conditions of the moon, these ridges would cast shadowSi 
 and they do not cast any 
 
OBOOSAPMIG DETAILS. 253 
 
 And indeed, these rajs only appeared when the orb of 
 day was in opposition to the moon, and disappeared aa 
 soon as its rays became oblique. 
 
 "But how have they endeavored to explain these lines 
 of light?" asked Michel; "for I cannot believe that 
 savants would ever be stranded for want of an explana- 
 tion." 
 
 "Yes," replied Barbicane; "Herschel has put forward 
 an opinion, but he did not venture to afiBrm it." 
 
 "Never mind. What was the opinion?" 
 
 "He thought that these rays might be streams of cooled 
 lava which shone when the sun beat straight upon them. 
 It may be so; but nothing can be less certain. Besides, 
 if we pass nearer to Tycho, we shall be in a better posi- 
 tion to find out the cause of this radiation." 
 
 "Do yon know, my friends, what that plain, seen from 
 the height we.are at, resembles?" said Miuhel. 
 
 "No," replied Nicholl. 
 
 "Very well; with all those pieces of lava lengthened 
 like rockets, it resembles an immense game of spelikans 
 thrown pellmell. There wants but the hook to pull 
 them out one by one." 
 
 "Do be serious," said Barbicane. 
 
 "Well, let us be serious," replied Michel quietly; 
 "and instead of spelikans, let us put bones. This plain 
 would then be nothing but an immense cemetery, oh 
 which would repose the mortal remains of thousands of 
 extinct generation^. Do you prefer that high-flown corn* 
 parison ?" 
 
 "One is as good as the other," retorted Barbicane. 
 
 "My word, you are diflScult to please," answered 
 Michel. 
 
 "My worthy friend," continued the matter-of-fact 
 Barbicane, "it matters but little what it resemUes, when 
 we do not know what it is." 
 
$54 FROM THE EAETE TO TEE MOON. 
 
 "Well answered," exclaimed Michel. "That will teacii 
 me to reason with savants." 
 
 Bnt the projectile continued to advance with almost 
 nniform speed around the lunar disc. The travelers, w« 
 may easily imagine, did not dream of taking a moment's 
 rest. Every minute changed the landscape which fled 
 from beneath their gaze. About half-past one o'clock in 
 the morning, they caught a glimpse of the tops of another 
 mountain. Barbicane, consulting his map, recognized 
 Eratosthenes. 
 
 It was a ringed mountain nine thousand feet high, and 
 one of those circles so numerous on this satellite. With 
 regard to this, Barbicane related Kepler's singular opinion 
 on the formation of circles. According to that celebrated 
 mathematician, theise crater-like cavities had been dug by 
 the hand of man. 
 
 "For what purpose?" asked Nicholl. 
 
 "For a very natural one," replied Barbicane. "The 
 Selenites might have undertaken these immense works 
 and dug these enormous holes for a refuge and shield 
 from the solar rays which beat upon them during fifteen 
 consecutive days." 
 
 "The Selenites are not fools," said Michel. 
 
 "A singular idea," replied Nicholl; "but it is probable 
 that Kepler did not know the true dimensions of these 
 circles, for the digging of them would have been the work 
 of giants quite impossible for the Selenites." 
 
 "Why? if weight on the moon's surface is six times 
 less than on the earth?" said Michel. 
 
 "But if the Selenites are six times smaller?" retorted 
 Nicholl. 
 
 "And if there are no Selenites?" added Barbicane. 
 
 This put an end to the discussion. 
 
 Soon Eratosthenes disappeared under the horizon with' 
 out the projectile being sufficiently near to allow close 
 
OBOGBAPHIG DETAILS. 255 
 
 observation. This mountain separated the Apennines 
 from the Carpathians. In the lunar orography .they have 
 discerned some chains of mountains, which ate chiefly dis- 
 tributed over the northern hemisphere. Some, however, 
 occupy certain portions of the southern hemisphere also. 
 
 About two o'clock in the morning Barbicane found 
 that they were above the twentieth lunar parallel. The 
 distance of the projectile from the moon was not more 
 than six hundred miles. Barbicane, now perceiving that 
 the projectile was steadily approaching the lunar disc, 
 did not despair; if not of reaching her, at least of discov- 
 ering the secrets of her configuration. 
 
256 FBOM THE EABTE TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTBE XIII. 
 
 LUNAE LANDSCAPES. 
 
 At half-past two in the morning, the projectile was 
 over the thirteenth Innar parallel and at the effective dis- 
 tance of five hundred miles, reduced by the glasses to 
 five. It still seemed impossible, however, that it could 
 ever touch any part of the disc. Its motive speed, com- 
 paratively so moderate, was inexplicable to President 
 Barbicane. At that distance from the moon it must have 
 been considerable, to enable it to bear up against her 
 attraotion. Here was a phenomenon the cause of which 
 escaped them again. Besides, time failed them to inves- 
 tigate the cause. All lunar relief was defiling under the 
 eyes of the travelers, and they would not lose a single 
 detail. 
 
 Under the glasses the disc appeared at the distance of 
 five miles. What would an aeronaut, borne to this dis- 
 tance from the earth, distinguish on its surface? We can- 
 not say, since the greatest ascension has not been more 
 than 25,000 feet. 
 
 This, however, is an exact description of what Barbicane 
 and his companions saw at this height. Large patches of 
 different colors appeared on the disc. Selenographers are 
 not agreed upon the nature of these colors. There are 
 several, and rather vividly marked. Julias Schmidt 
 pretends that, if the terrestrial oceans were dried up, a 
 Selenite observer could not distinguish on the globe a 
 greater diversity of shades between the oceans and the 
 continental plains than those on the moon present to a 
 
LUNAB. LAND8CAPE8. 257 
 
 terrestrial observer. According to hinij the color com- 
 mon to the vast plains known by the name of "seas" is a 
 dark gray mixed with green and brown. Some of the 
 large craters present the same appearance. .Barbicane 
 knew this opinion of the German selenographer, an 
 opinion shared by Bceer and Moedler. (Observation has 
 proved that right was on their side, and not on that of 
 some astronomers who admit the existence of only gra^ on 
 the moon's surface. In some parts green was very distinct^ 
 such as springs, according to Julius Schmidt,' from the 
 seas of "Serenity and Hnmors." Barbicane also noticed 
 large craters, without any interior cones, which shed a 
 blaish tint similar to the reflection of a sheet of steel 
 freshly polished. These colors belonged really to the 
 lunar disc, and did not result, as some astronomers say, 
 either from the imperfection in the objective of the glasses 
 or from the interposition of the terrestrial atmosphere. 
 
 Not a doubt existed in Barbicane's mind with regard 
 to it, as he observed it through space, and so could not 
 commit any optical error. He considered' the establish- 
 ment of this fact as an acquisition to science. Now, were 
 these shades of green, belonging to tropical vegetation, 
 kept up by a low dense atmosphere? He could not yet 
 say. 
 
 Farther on, he noticed a reddish tint, quite defined. 
 The same shade had before been observed at the bottom 
 of an isolated enclosure, known by the name of Lichten- 
 burg's circle, which is situated near the Hercynian moun- 
 tains, on the borders of the moon; but they could not tell 
 the nature of it. 
 
 They were not more fortunate with regard to another 
 peculiarity of the disc, for they could not decide upon the 
 cause of it. 
 
 Michel Ardan was watching near the president, when 
 he noticed lon^i; white lines, vividly li|hte<J up by th§ 
 
258 V'BOM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 direct rays of the snn. It was a succession of Inminons 
 farrows, very difEerent from the radiation of Copernicus 
 not long before ; they ran parallel with each other. 
 
 Michel, with his nsnal readiness, hastened to exclaim : 
 
 "Look there! cultivated fields!" 
 
 "Cultivated fields!" replied Mcholl, shrugging his 
 shoulders. 
 
 "Plowed, at all events," retorted Michel Ardan; "but 
 what laborers those Selenites must be, and what giant 
 oxen they must harness to their plow to cut such fur- 
 rows!" 
 
 "They are not furrows," said Barbicane; "they are 
 rifts." 
 
 "Eifts? stuff!" replied Michel mildly; "but what do 
 you mean by 'rifts' in the scientific world?" 
 
 Barbicane immediately enlightened his companion as 
 to what he knew about lunar rifts. He knew that they 
 were a kind of furrow found on every part of the disc 
 which was not mountainous; that these furrows, generally 
 isolated, measured from 400 to 500 leagues in length; 
 that their breadth varied from 1,000 to 1,500 yards, and 
 that their borders were strictly parallel; but he knew 
 nothing more either of their formation or their nature. 
 
 Barbicane, through his glasses, observed these rifts with 
 great attention. He noticed that their borders were 
 formed of steep declivities; they were long parallel ram- 
 parts, and with some small amount of imagination he 
 might have admitted the existence of long lines of fortifi- 
 cations, raised by Seleuite engineers. Of these different 
 rifts some were perfectly straight, as if cut by a line; 
 others were slightly curved, though still keeping their 
 borders parallel; some crossed each other, some cut 
 through craters; here they wound through ordinary cavi- 
 ties, such as Posidonins or Petavius; there they wound 
 tbrpugh the seas, such as the "Sea of Serenity." 
 
LUNAR LANDSCAPES. 259 
 
 These natural accidents naturally excited the imagina- 
 tions of these terrestrial astronomers. -The first observa- 
 tions had not discovered these rifts. Neither Hevelius, 
 Cassim, La Hire, nor Herschel seemed to have known 
 them. It was Schroeter who in 1789 first drew attention 
 to them. Others followed who studied them, as PastorfE, 
 Gruithuysen, Bceer, and Moedler. At tliis time their 
 number amounts to seventy; but, if they have been 
 counted, their nature has not yet been determined; they 
 are certainly not fortifications, any more than they are 
 the ancient beds of dried-up rivers; for, on one side, the 
 waters, so slight on the moon's surface, could never have 
 worn such drains for themselves'; and, on the other, they 
 often cross craters of great elevation. 
 
 We mast, however, allow that Michel Ardan had "an 
 idea," and that, without knowing it, h6 coincided in that 
 respect with Julius Schmidt. 
 
 "Why," said he, "should not these unaccountable ap- 
 pearances be simply phenomena of vegetation?" 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Barbicane quickly. 
 
 "Do not excite yourself, my worthy president," replied 
 Michel; "might it not be possible that the dark lines 
 forming that bastion were rows of trees regularly placed?" 
 
 "Yon stick to your vegetation, then?" said Barbi- 
 cane. 
 
 "I like," retorted Michel Ardan, "to explain what yon 
 savants cannot explain; at least my hypothesis has the 
 advantage of indicating why these rifts disappear, or 
 seem to disappear, at certain seasons." 
 
 "And for what reason?" 
 
 "For the reason that the trees become invisible when 
 they lose their leaves, and visible when they regain them." 
 
 "Your explanation is ingenious, my dear companion," 
 replied Barbicane, "but inadmissible." 
 
 "Whj?" 
 
260 FROM TBE EARTB TO THE MOON. 
 
 "Because, so to speak, there are no seasons on the 
 moon's surface, and that, consequently, the phenomena 
 of vegetation of which you speak cannot occur." 
 
 Indeed, the slight obliquity of the lunar axis keeps the 
 sun at an almost equal height in every latitude. Above 
 the equatorial regions the radiant orb almost invariably 
 occupies the zenith, and does not pass the limits of the 
 horizon in the polar regions; thus, according to each 
 region, there reigns a perpetual winter, spring, summer, 
 or autumn, as in the planet Jupiter, whose axis is but 
 little inclined upon its orbit. 
 
 What origin do they attribute to these rifts? That is a 
 question difficult to solve. They are certainly anterior 
 to the formation of craters and circles, for several have 
 introduced themselves by breaking through their circular 
 ramparts. Thus it may be that, contemporary with the 
 later geological epochs, they are due to the expahsi6n of 
 natural forces. 
 
 But the projectile had now attained the fortieth degree 
 of lunar latitude, at a distance not exceeding 400 miles. 
 Through the glasses objects appeared to be only four 
 miles distant. i 
 
 At this point, under their feet, rose Mouijit Helicon, 
 1,520 feet high, and round about the left rose moderate 
 elevations, enclosing a small portion of the "Sea of 
 Eains," under .the name of the Gulf of Iris. The terres- 
 trial atmosphere would have to be one hundred and 
 seventy times more transparent than it is, to allow as- 
 tronomers to make perfect observations on the moon's 
 surface; but in the void, in which the projectile floated 
 no fluid interposed itself between the eye of the observer 
 and the object observed. And more, Barbicane' found 
 himself carried to a greater distance than the most power- 
 ful telescopes had ever done before, either that of Lord 
 
LUNAR LANDSCAPES. 361 
 
 Eosse or that of the Eocky Mountains. He was^ there- 
 fore, under extremely favorable conditions for solving 
 that great question of the habitability of the moon^ hut 
 the solution still escaped him; he could distinguish noth- 
 ing but desert beds, immense plains, and toward the 
 north, arid mountains. Not a work betrayed the hand 
 of man; not a ruin marked his course; not a group of 
 animals was to be seen indicating life, even in an inferior 
 degree. In no part was there life, in no part was there 
 an appearance of vegetation. Of the three kingdoms 
 which share the terrestrial globe between them, one alone 
 was represented on the lunar, and that the mineral. 
 
 "Ah, indeed!" said Michel Ardan, a little out of 
 countenance; "then you see no one?" 
 
 "Noj'f answered Nicholl; "up to this time not a man, 
 not an animal, not a tree! After all, whether the atmos- 
 phere has taken refuge at the bottom of cavities, in the 
 midst of the circles, or even on the opposite face of the 
 moon, we cannot decide." 
 
 "Besides," added Barbicane, "even to the most pierc- 
 ing eye a man cannot be distinguished farther than three 
 and a half miles ofE; so that, if there are any Selenites, 
 they can see our projectile, but we cannot s€|e th^m." 
 
 Toward four in the morning, at the height of the fiftieth 
 parallel, the distance was reduced to 300 miles. To the 
 left ran a line of mountains capriciously shaped, lying in 
 the full light. To the right, on the contrary, lay a black 
 hollow resembling a vast well, unfathomable and gloomy, 
 drilled into the lunar soil. 
 
 This hole was the "Black Lake;" it was Pluto, a deep 
 circle which can be conveniently; studied from the earth, 
 between the last quarter and the new moon, when the 
 shadows fall from west to east. 
 
 This black color is rarely met with on the surface of 
 
262 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 the satellite. As yet it has only been recognized in tha 
 depths of the circle of Bndymion, to the east of the "Cold 
 Sea," in the northern hemisphere, and at the bottom of 
 Grimaldi's circle, on tiie equator, toward the eastern 
 border of the orb. 
 
 Pluto is an annular mountain, situated in 51° north 
 latitude, and 9° east longitude. Its circuit is forty-seven 
 miles long and thirty-two broad. 
 
 Barbicane regretted that they were not passing directly 
 above this vast opening. There was an abyss to fathom, 
 perhaps some mysterious phenomenon to surprise; but 
 the projectile's course could not be altered. They must 
 rigidly submit. They could not guide a balloon, still less 
 a projectile, when once enclosed •within its walls. To* 
 ■ward five in the morning the northern limits of the "Sea 
 of Rains" was at length passed. The mounts of Condamine 
 and Fontenelle remained — one on the right, the other on 
 the left. That part of the disc beginning with 60° was 
 becoming quite mountainous. The glasses brought 
 them to within two miles, less than that separating the 
 summit of Mont Blanc from the level of the sea. The 
 whole region was bristling with spikes and circles. To- 
 ward the 60° Philolaus stood predominant at a height of 
 5,550 feet with its elliptical crater, and seen from this 
 distance, the disc showed a very fantastical appearance. 
 Landscapes were presented to the eye under very different - 
 conditions from those on the earth, and also very inferior 
 to them. 
 
 The moon having no atmosphere, the consequences 
 arising from the absence of this gaseous envelope have 
 already been shown. No twilight on her surface; night 
 following day and day following night with the sudden- 
 ness of a lamp which is extinguished or lighted amid 
 profound darkness — no transition from cold to heat, the 
 
LUNAR LANDSCAPES. 263 
 
 temperature falling in an instant from boiling point to 
 the cold of space. 
 
 Another consequence of this want of air is thatabsolnto 
 darkness reigns wliere the snn'a rays do not penetrate. 
 That which on earth is called diffusion of light, that 
 luminous matter'which the air holds in suspension, which 
 creates the twilight and the daybreak, which produces 
 the umhrcB and the penumhrce, and all the magic of chiaro- 
 oscuro, does not exist on the moon. Hence the .harshness 
 of contrasts, which only admit of two colors, black and 
 white. If a Selenite were to shade his eyes from the 
 sun's rays, the sky would seem absolutely black, and the 
 stars would shine to him as on the darkest night. Judge 
 of the impression produced on Barbicane and his three 
 friends by this strange scene! Their eyes were confused. 
 They could no longer grasp the respective distances of the 
 different plains. A lunar landscape without the soften- 
 ing of the phenomena of cMaro-oscuro could not be ren- 
 dered by an earthly landscape paiiater : it would be spots 
 of ink on a white page— nothing more. 
 
 This aspect was not altered even when the projectile, 
 at the height of 80°, was only separated from the moon 
 by a distance of fifty miles; nor even when, at five in the 
 morning, it passed at less than twenty-five miles from the 
 mountain of Gioja, a distance reduced by the glasses to a 
 quarter of a mile. It seemed as if the moon might be 
 touched by the hand! It seemed impossible that, before 
 long, the projectile would not strike her, if only at the 
 north pole, the brilliant arch of which was so distinctly 
 visible on the black sky. 
 
 Michel Ardan wanted to open one of the scuttles and 
 throw himself on to the moon's surface! A very useless 
 attempt; for if the projectile could not attain any point 
 whatever of the satellite, Michel, carried along by its 
 motion, could not attain it either. 
 
864 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOS. 
 
 At that moment, at six o'clock, the lunar pole appeared. 
 The disc only presented to the travelers' gaze one half 
 ' brilliantly lit np, while the other disappeared in the dark- 
 ness. Suddenly the projectile passed the line of demarca- 
 tion between intense light and absolute darkness, and 
 was plunged in profound night! 
 
TBE NlOnr OF SS4. HOURS AND A HALF. 265. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 THE NIGHT OF THKEE HUNDRED AND FIFTT-FOUE HOUKS 
 AND A HALF. 
 
 At the moment when this phenomenon took place so 
 rapidly, the projectile was skirting the moon's north pole 
 at less than twenty-five miles distance. Some seconds 
 had sn£Qced to plunge it into the absolnte darkness of 
 space. The transition was so sudden, withont shade, 
 without gradation of light, without attenuation of the 
 luminous waves, that the orb seemed to have been extin- 
 guished by a powerful blow. 
 
 "Melted, disappeared!" Michel Ardan exclaimed, 
 , aghast. 
 
 Indeed, there was neither reflection nor shadow. 
 Nothing more was to be seen of that disc,. formerly so daz- 
 zling. The darkness was complete, and rendered even 
 more so by the rays from the stars. It was "that black- 
 ness" in which the lunar nights are insteeped, which last 
 three hundred and fifty-four hours and a half at each point 
 of the disc, a long night resulting from the equality of the 
 translatory and rotatory movements of the moon. The 
 projectile, intmerged in the conical shadow of the satel- 
 lite, experienced the action of the solar rays no more than 
 any of its invisible points. 
 
 In the , interior the obscurity was complete. They 
 could not see each other. Hence the necessity of dispell- 
 ing the darkness. However desirous Barbicane might be 
 to husband the gas, the reserve of which was small, he 
 
266 FROM THE EARTB TO TBE MOON. 
 
 was obliged to ask from it a fictitious light, an expensive 
 brilliancy which the sun then refused. 
 
 "Devil take the radiant orb!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, 
 "which forces us to expend gag, instead of giving us his 
 rays gratuitously." 
 
 "Do not let us accuse the sun," said "Nicholl, "it is not 
 his fault, but thai; of the moon, which has come and 
 placed herself like a screen between us and it." 
 
 "It is the sun!" continued Michel. 
 
 "It is the moon !" retorted Nicholl. 
 
 An idle dispute, which Barbicane put an end to by say- 
 ing: 
 
 "My friends, it is neither the fault of the sun nor of 
 the moon; it is the fault of the projectile, which, instead 
 of rigidly following its course, has awkwardly missed it. 
 To be more just, it is the fault of that unfortunate meteor 
 which has so deplorably altered our first direction." 
 
 "Well," replied Michel Ardan, "as the matter is set- 
 tled, let us have breakfast. After a whole night of watch- 
 ing it is fair to build ourselves up a little." 
 
 This proposal meeting with no contradiction, Michel 
 prepared the repast in a few minutes. But they ate for 
 eating's sake, they drank without toasts, without hurrahs. 
 The bold travelers being borne away into gloomy space, 
 without their accustomed corttge of rays, felt a vague un- 
 easiness at their hearts. The "strange" shadow so dear 
 to Victor Hugo's pen bound them on all sides. But they 
 talked over the interminable night of three hundred and 
 fifty-four hours and a half, nearly fifteen days, which the 
 law of physics has imposed on the inhabitants of the 
 moon. 
 
 Barbicane gave his friends some explanation of the 
 causes and the consequences of this curious phenomenon. 
 
 "Ourious indeed," said they; "for, if each hemisphere 
 of the moon is deprived of solar light for fifteen days, 
 
THE NIGHT OF SSfy HOURS AND A HALF. 267 
 
 that above which we now float does not even enjoy during 
 its long night any view of the earth so beautifully lit up. 
 In a word she has no moon (applying this designation to 
 our globe) but on one side of her disc. Now if this were 
 the case with the earth — ^if, for example, Europe never 
 saw the moon, and she was only visible at the antipodes, 
 imagine to yourself the astonishment of a European on 
 arriving in Australia." 
 
 "They would make the voyage for nothing but to see 
 the moon!" replied Michel. 
 
 "Very well!" continued Barbicane, "that astonishment 
 is reserved for the Selenites who inhabit the face of the 
 moon opposite to the earth, a face which is ever invisible 
 to our countrymen of the terrestrial globe." 
 
 "And which we should have seen," added Nicholl, "if 
 we had arrived here when the moon was new, that is 
 to say fifteen days later." 
 
 "I will add, to make amends," continued Barbicane, 
 "that the inhabitants of the visible face are singularly 
 favored by nature, to the detriment of their brethren on 
 the invisible face. The latter, as yon see, have dark 
 nights, of 354 hours, without one single ray to break the 
 darkness. The other, on the contrary, when the sun 
 which has given its light for fifteen days sinks below the 
 horizon, see a splendid dtb rise on the opposite horizon. 
 It is the earth, which is thirteen times greater than that, 
 diminutive moon that we know — the earth which devel- 
 opes itself at a diameter of two degrees, and which sheds 
 a light thirteen times greater than that qualified by at- 
 mospheric strata — the earth which only disappears at the 
 moment when the sun reappears in its turn!" 
 
 "Nicely worded!" said Michel, "slightly academical 
 perhaps." 
 
 "It follows, then," continued Barbicane, without knit- 
 ting his brows, ''that the visible face of the disq Hiuat be 
 
368 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 very agreeable to inhabit, since it always looks on either 
 the sun when the moon is full, or on the earth when the 
 moon is new." 
 
 "But," said NichoU, "that advantage must be well 
 compensated by the insupportable heat which the light 
 brings with it." 
 
 "The inconvenience, in that respect, is the same for 
 the two faces, for the earth's light is evidently deprived| 
 of heat. But the invisible face is still more searched by 
 the heat than the visible face. I say that for you, 
 Nicholl, because Michel will probably not understand." 
 
 "Thank you," said Michel. 
 
 "Indeed," continued Barbicane, "when the invisible 
 face receives at the same time light and heat from the 
 snn, it is because the moon is new; that is to say, she is 
 situated between the sun and the earth. It follows, then, 
 considering the position which she occupies in opposition 
 when full, that she is nearer to the sun by twice her dis- 
 tance from the earth ; and that distance may be estimated 
 at the two-hundredth part of that which separates the sun 
 from the earth, or in round numbers 400,000 miles. So 
 that invisible face is so much nearer to the sun when she 
 receives its rays." 
 
 "Quite right," replied Nicholl. 
 
 "On the contrary," continued Barbicane. 
 
 "One moment," said Michel, interrupting his grave 
 'wmpanion. 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "I ask to be allowed to continue the explanation." 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 "To prove that I understand." 
 
 "Get along with you," said Barbicane, smiling. 
 
 "On the contrary," said Michel, imitating the tone 
 and gestures of the president, "on the contrary, when the 
 visible face of the moon is lit by the sun, it is because thQ 
 
THE NIGHT OF 3H E0UB8 AND A HALF. 369 
 
 moon is full, that is to say, opposite the sun with regard 
 to the eartn. The distance separating it from the radiant 
 orb is then increased in round numbers to 400,000 miles, 
 and the heat which she receives must be a little less." 
 
 "Very well said!" exclaimed' Barbicane. "Do yon 
 know, Michel, that, for an amateur, you are intelligent." 
 
 "Yes," replied Michel coolly, "we are all sd on the 
 Boulevard des Italiens." 
 
 Barbicane gravely clasped the hand of his amiable com- 
 panion, and continued to enumerate the advantages re- 
 served for the inhabitants of the visible face. 
 
 Among others, he mentioned eclipses of the sun, which, 
 only take place on this side of the lunar disc; since, in 
 order that they may take place, it is necessary for the 
 moon to be in opposition. These eclipses, caused by the 
 interposition of the earth between the moon and the sun, 
 can last tioo hours; during which time, by reason of the 
 rays refracted by its atmosphere, the terrestrial globe can 
 appear as nothing but a black point upon the sun. 
 
 "So," said Nichol, "there is a hemisphere, that invis- 
 ible hemisphere which is very ill supplied, very ill treated, 
 by nature." 
 
 "Never mind," replied Michel; "if we ever become 
 Selenites, we will inhabit the visible face. I like the 
 light." 
 
 "Unless, by any chance," answered NichoU, "the at- 
 mosphere should be condensed on the other side, as cer- 
 tain astronomers pretend." 
 
 "That would be a consideration," said Michel. 
 
 Breakfast over, the observers returned to their post. 
 They tried to see through the darkened scuttles by ex- 
 tinguishing all light in the projectile; but not a luminous 
 spark made its way through the darkness. 
 
 One inexplicable fact preoccupied Barbicane. Why, 
 having passed within snob a short distance of the moon-' 
 
270 FROM THE EAUTH TO TEE MOON. 
 
 about twenty-five miles only — why the projectile had not 
 fallen? If its speed had been enormous, he could have 
 uaderstood that the fall would not haVe taken place; but, 
 with a relatively moderate speed, that resistance to the 
 moon's attraction could not be explained. Was the pro- 
 jectile under some foreign influence? Did some kind of 
 body retaia it in the ether? It was quite evident that 
 it could never reach any point of the moon. Whither 
 was it going? Was it going farther from, or nearing, the 
 disc? Was it being borne in that profound darkness 
 through the infinity of space? How could they learn, 
 how calculate, in the midst of this night? All these ques- 
 tions made Barbicane uneasy, but he could not solve 
 them. 
 
 Certainly, the invisible orb was there, perhaps only 
 some few miles off; but neither he nor his companions 
 could see it. If there was any noise on its surface, they 
 could not hear it. Air, that medium of sound, was want- 
 ing to transmit the groanings of that moon which the 
 Arabic legends call "a man already half granite, and still 
 breathing." 
 
 One must allow that that was enough to aggravate the 
 most patient observers. It was just that unknown hemi- 
 sphere which was stealing from their sight. That face 
 which fifteen days sooner, or fifteen days later, had been, 
 or would be, splendidly illuminated by the solar rays, was 
 then being lost in utter darkness. In fifteen days where 
 would the projectile be? Who could say? Where would 
 the chances of conflicting attractions have drawn it to? 
 The disappointment of the travelers in the midst of this 
 ntter darkness may be imagined. All observation of the 
 lunar disc was impossible. The fionstellations alone 
 claimed all their attention ; and we must allow that the 
 astronomers Faye, Gharconac, and Secohi, never fonnd 
 
THE NIGHT OF 354 EOUBS AND A HALF. 271 
 
 themselves in oircnmstances so favorable for their obser* 
 vation. 
 
 Indeed, nothing could equal the splendor of this starry 
 world, bathed in limpid ether. Its diamonds set in the 
 heavenly vault sparkled magnificently. The eye took in 
 the firmament from the Southern Cross to the North 
 Star, those two constellations which in 12,000 years, by 
 reason of the snqcession of equinoxes, will resign their 
 part of the polar stars, the one to Oanopus in the southern 
 hemisphere, the other to Wega in the northern. Imagi- 
 nation loses itself in this sublime Infinity, amid which the 
 projectile was gravitating, like a new star created by the 
 hand of man. From a natural cause, these constellations 
 shone with a soft luster; they did not twinkle, for there 
 was no atmosphere which, by the intervention of its layers 
 unequally dense and of different degrees of humidity, pro- 
 duces this scintillation. These stars were soft eyes, look- 
 ing out into the dark night, amid the silence of absolute 
 space. 
 
 Long did the travelers stand mute, watching the con- 
 stellated firmament, upon which the moon, like a vast 
 screen, made an enormous black hole. But at length a 
 painful sensation drew them trom their watchings. This 
 was an intense cold, which soon covered the inside of the 
 glass of the scuttleg with a thick coating of ice. The sun 
 was no lopger warming the projectile with its direct rays, 
 and thus it was losing the heat stored up in its walls by 
 degrees. This heat was rapidly evaporating into space by 
 radiation, and a considerably lower temperature was the 
 result. The humidity of the interior was changed into 
 ice upon contact with the glass, preventing all observa- 
 tion. 
 
 Nicholl consulted the thermometer, and saw that it had 
 
 fallen to seventeen degrees (Centigrade) below zero.* So 
 
 * 10 Faljrenheit ~~ 
 
273 FBOM TEE EABTE TO TEE MOOIT. 
 
 that, in spite of tbe many reasons for economizing, Barbi- 
 cane, after having begged light from the gas, was also 
 obliged to beg for heat. The projectile's low temperature 
 was no longer endurable. Its tenants would have been 
 frozen to death. 
 
 "Well!" observed Michel, "we cannot reasonably com- 
 plain of the monotony of our journey! What variety we 
 have had, at least in temperature. Now we are blinded 
 with light and saturated with heat, like the Indians of 
 the Pampas! now plunged into profound darkness, amid 
 the cold, like the Esquimaux of the north pole. No, 
 indeed! we have no right to complain ; nature does won- 
 ders in our honor." 
 
 "But," asked NichoU, "what is the temperature out- 
 side?" 
 
 "Exactly that of the planetary space," replied Barbi- 
 can e. 
 
 "Then," continued Michel Ardan, "would not this be 
 the time to make the experiment which we dared not at- 
 tempt when we were drowned in the sun's rays?" 
 
 "It is now or never," replied Barbicane, "for we are in 
 a good position to verify the temperature of space, and 
 see if Fourier or Pouillet's calculations are exact." 
 
 "In any case it is cold," said Michel. "See! the steam 
 of the interior is condenging on the glasses of the scuttles. 
 If the fall continues, the vapor of our breath will fall in 
 snow around us." 
 
 "Let us prepare a thermometer," said Barbicane. 
 
 We may imagine that an ordinary thermometer would 
 afford no result under the circumstances in which this in- 
 strument was to be exposed. The mercury would have 
 , been frozen in its ball, as below 42° Fahrenheit below 
 zero it is no longer liquid. But Barbicane had fur- 
 nished himself with a spirit thermometer on Wafferdin'g 
 
THE NIGHT OF 3S4 HOURS AND A HALF. 2^3 
 
 system, which gives the minima of excessively low tem- 
 peratures. 
 
 Before beginning the experiment, this instrument was 
 compared with an ordinary one, and then Barbicane pre- 
 pared to use it. 
 
 "How shall we set about it?" asked Nioholl. 
 
 "Nothing is easier," replied Michel Ardan, who wasj 
 never at a loss. "We open the scuttle rapidly; throw out 
 the instrument; it follows the projectile with exemplary 
 docility; and a quarter of an hour after, draw it in." 
 
 "With the hand?" asked Barbicane. 
 
 "With the hand," replied Michel. 
 
 "Well, then, my friend, do not expose yourself," an- 
 swered Barbicane, "for the hand that you draw in again 
 will be nothing but a stump frozen and deformed by the 
 frightful cold." 
 
 "Eeally!" 
 
 "You will feel as if you had had a terrible burn, like 
 that of iron at a white heat; for whether the heat leaves 
 our bodies briskly or enters briskly, it is exactly the same 
 thing. Besides, I am not at all certain that the objects 
 w© have thrown out are still following us." 
 
 "Why not?" asked Nicholl. 
 
 "Because, if we are passing through an atmosphere of 
 the slightest density, these objects will be retarded. 
 Again, the darkness prevents our seeing if they still float 
 around ns. But in order not to expose ourselves to the 
 loss of onr thermometer, we will fasten it, and we can 
 then more easily pull it back again." 
 
 Barbicane's advice was followed. Through the scuttle 
 rapidly opened, Nicholl threw out the instrument, which 
 was held by a short cord, so that it might be more easily 
 drawn up. The scuttle had not been opened more than a 
 second, but that second bad sufSced to let in a most in- 
 tense cold. 
 
I 
 274 FHOM TEE EAUTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "The devil!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, "it is ctjd 
 enongh to freeze a white bear." 
 
 Barbicane waited until half an honr had elapsed, which 
 was more than time enongh to allow the instrument to 
 fall to the level of the surrounding temperature. Then 
 it was rapidly pulled in. 
 
 Barbicane calculated the quantity of spirits of wine 
 overflowed into the little vial soldered to the lower part 
 of the instrument, and said: 
 
 "A hundred and forty degrees Centigrade* below zero!" 
 
 M. Pouillet was right and Fourier wrong. That was 
 the undoubted temperature of the starry space. Such is, 
 perhaps, that of the lunar continents, when the orb of 
 night has lost by radiation all the heat which fifteen days 
 of sun have poured into her. 
 
 * 318 degrees Fahrenheit below leio. 
 
BYPBttBOLA OR PAltABOLA. %1b 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HTPKEBOLA OK PABABOLA. 
 
 We may, perhaps, be astonished to find Barbiciine and 
 his eonipanions so little occupied with the future reserved 
 for them in their metal prison which was bearing them 
 through the infinity of space. Instead of asking where 
 they were going, they passed their time making experi- 
 ments, ~as if they had been quietly installed in their own 
 study. 
 
 We might answer that men so strong-minded were above 
 such anxieties — that they did not trouble themselves 
 about such trifled — and that they had something else to do 
 than to occupy their minds with the future. 
 
 The truth was that they were not masters of their pro- 
 jectile; they could neither check its course, nor alter its 
 direction. 
 
 A sailor can change the head of his ship as he pleases; 
 an aeronaut can give a vertical motion to his balloon. 
 They, on the contrary, had no power over their vehicle. 
 Every maneuver was forbidden. Hence the inclinationi^ 
 to let things alo^e, or as the sailors say, "let her run." , 
 
 Where did they find themselves at this moment, at 
 eight o'clock in the morning of the day palled upon the 
 earth the eth of December? Very certainly in the neigh- 
 borhood of the moon, and even near enough for her to 
 look to them like an enormous black screen upon the 
 firmament. As to the distance which separated them, it 
 was impossible to estimate it. The projectile, held bj 
 
«7e FROM THE EARTM TO TEE MOOIT. 
 
 some nnacconntable fotce, had been within four miles of 
 grazing the satellite's north pole. 
 
 Bnt since entering the cone of shadow these last two 
 hours, had the distance increased or diminished? Every 
 point of mark was wanting by which to estimate both the 
 direction and the speed of the projectile. 
 
 Perhaps it was rapidly leaving the disc, so that it would 
 soon quit the pure shadow. Perhaps, again, on the other 
 hand, it might be nearing it so much that in a short time 
 it might strike some high point on the invisible hemi- 
 sphere, which would doubtlessly have ended the journey 
 much to the detriment of the travelers. 
 
 A discussion arose on this subject, and Michel Ardan, 
 always ready with au explanation, gave it as his opinion 
 that the projectile, held by the lunar attraction, would 
 end by falling on the surface of the terrestrial globe like 
 an aerolite. 
 
 "First of all, my friend," answered Barbicane, "every 
 aerolite does not fall to the earth; it is only a small pro- 
 portion which do so; and if we had passed into an aero- 
 lite, it does not necessarily follow that we should ever 
 reach the surface of the moon." 
 
 "Bnt how if we get near enough?" replied Michel. 
 
 "Pure mistake," replied Barbicane. "Have yon not 
 seen shooting stars rush through the sky by thousands at 
 certain seasons?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, these stars,^ or rather corpuscles, only shine 
 when they are heated by gliding over the atmospheric 
 layers. Now, if they enter the atmosphere, they pass at 
 least within forty miles of the earth, but they seldom fall 
 upon it. The same with our projectile. It may approach 
 Very near to the moon, and yet not fall upon it." 
 
 "But then," asked Michel, "I shall be curious to know 
 how our erring vehicle will act in space?" 
 
HTPEBBOLA OR PARABOLA. 211 
 
 "I see but two hypotheses," replied Barbicane, after 
 some moments' reflection. 
 
 "What are they?" 
 
 "The projectile has the choice between two mathemat- 
 Ueal curves, and it will follow one or the other according 
 io the speed with which it is animated, and which at this 
 moment I cannot estimate." 
 
 "Yes," said Nicholl, "it will follow either a parabola 
 or a hyperbola." 
 
 "Just so," replied Barbicane. "With a certain speed 
 it will assume the parabola, and with a greater the hyper- 
 bola." 
 
 "I like those grand words," exclaimed Michel Ardan; 
 "one knows directly what they mean. And pray what is 
 your parabola, if you please?" 
 
 "My friend," answered the captain, "the parabola is a 
 , curve of the second order, the result of the section of a 
 cone intersected by a plane parallel to one of its sides." 
 
 "Ah! ah!" said Michel, in a satisfied tone. 
 
 "It is very nearly," continued Nicholl, "the course de- 
 scribed by a bomb launched from a mortar." 
 
 "Perfect! And the hyperbola?" 
 
 "The hyperbola, Michel, is a curve of the second order, 
 produced by the intersection of a conic surface and a 
 plane parallel to its axis, and constitutes two branches 
 separated one from the other, both tending indefinitely in 
 the two directions." 
 
 "Is it possible!" exclaimed Michel Ardan in a serioua 
 tone, as if they had told him of some serious event. 
 "What I particularly like in your definition of the hyper- 
 bola (I was going to say hyperblague) is that it is still 
 more obscure than the word you pretend to define." 
 
 Nicholl and Barbicane cared little for Michel Ardan's 
 fnn. They were deep in a scientific discussion. What 
 curve would the projectile follow? was their hobby. One 
 
a^S FBOM TSE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 maintained the hyperbola, the other the parabola. They 
 gave each other reasons bristling with x. Their argu- 
 ments were couched in language which made Michel 
 jump. The discussion was hot, and neither would give 
 up his chosen curve to his adversary. 
 
 This scientific dispute lasted so long that it made 
 Michel very impatient. 
 
 "Now', gentlemen cosines, will you cease to throw 
 parabolas and hyperbolas at each other's heads? I want 
 to understand the only interesting question in the whole 
 affair. We shall follow one or other of these curves? 
 Good. But where will they lead us to?" 
 
 "Nowhere," replied Nicholl. 
 
 "How, nowhere?" 
 
 "Evidently," said Barbicane, "they are open cnrvee, 
 which may be prolonged indefinitely." 
 
 "Ah, savants!" cried Michel; "and what are either the 
 one or the other to us from the moment we know that 
 they equally lead us into infinite space?" 
 
 Barbicane and Nicholl could not forbear smiling. They 
 had just been creating "art for art's sake." Never had 
 so idle a question been raised at such an inopportune mo- 
 ment. The sinister truth remained that, whether hyper- 
 bolically or parabolieally borne away, the projectile would 
 never again meet either the earth or the moon. 
 
 What would become of these bold travelers in the im- 
 mediate future? If they did not die of hunger, if they 
 did not die of thirst, in some days, when the gas failed, 
 they would die from want of air, unless the cold had killed 
 them first. Still, important as it was to economize the 
 gas, the excessive loWness of the surrounding temperature 
 obliged them to consume a certain quantity. Strictly 
 speaking, they could do without its light, but not with- 
 out its heat. Fortunately the caloric generated by 
 Reiset'sand Begnaut's apparat'is raised the temperature 
 
BTPERBOLA OR PARABOLA. ' 279 
 
 of the interior of the projectile a little, and without much 
 Expenditure they were able to keep it bearable. 
 
 But observations had now become very difficult. The 
 dampness of the projectile was condensed on the windows 
 and congealed immediately. This cloudiness had to be 
 dispersed continually. In any case they might hope to 
 be able to discover sohie phenomena of the highest in- 
 terest. 
 
 But up to this time the disc remained dumb and dark* 
 It did not answer the multiplicity of questions put by 
 these ardent minds; a matter which drew this reflection 
 from Michel, apparently a just one: 
 
 "If ever we begin this journey over again, we shall do 
 Well to choose the time when the moon is at the full." 
 
 "Certainly," said Nicholl, "that circumstance will be 
 more favorable. I allow that the moon, immers,ed in the 
 sun's rays, will not be visible during the transit, but in- 
 stead we should see the earth, which would be full. And 
 what is more, if we were drawn round the moon, as at 
 this moment, we should at least have the advantage of 
 seeing the invisible part of her disc magnificently lit." 
 
 "Well said, Nicholl," replied Michel Ardan. "What 
 do you think,, Barbicane?" 
 
 "I think this," answered the grave president: "If ever 
 we begin this journey again, we shall start at the same 
 time and under the same conditions. Suppose we had 
 attained our end, would it not have been better to have 
 found continents in broad daylight than a country 
 plunged in utter darkness? Would not our first installa- 
 tion have been made under better circumstances Yes, 
 evidently. As to the invisible side, we could have visited 
 it in our exploring expeditions on the lunar globe. So 
 that the time of the full moon was well chosen. But we 
 ought to have arrived at the end ; and in order to have so 
 arrived, we ought to bave suffered no deviation on the 
 road." 
 
380 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "I have nothing to say to that," answered Michel 
 Ardan. "Here is, however, a good opportnnity lost ol 
 ohserving the other side of the moon." 
 
 But the projectile was now describing in the shadow 
 that incalculable course which no sight-mark would allow 
 them to ascertain. Had its direction been altered, either 
 by the influence of the lunar attraction, or by the action 
 of some unknown star? Barbicane could not say. But 
 a change had taken place in the relative position of the 
 vehicle; and Barbicane verified it about four in the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 The change consisted in this, that the base of the pro'- 
 jectile had turned toward the moon's surface, and was so 
 held by a perpendicular passing through its axis. The at- 
 traction, that is to say the weight, had brought about this 
 alteration. The heaviest part of the projectile inclined 
 toward the invisible disc as if it would fall upon it. 
 
 Was it falling? Were the travelers attaining that much 
 desired end? No. And the observation of a sign-point, 
 quite inexplicable in itself, showed Barbicane that his pro- 
 jectile was not nearing the moon, and that it had shifted 
 by following an almost concentric curve. 
 
 This point of mark, was a luminous brightness, which 
 Nicholl sighted suddenly, on the limit of the horizon 
 formed by the black disc. This point could not be con- 
 founded with a star. It was a reddish incandescence which 
 increased by degrees, a decided proof that the projectile 
 was shifting toward it and not falling normally on the sur- 
 face of the moon. 
 
 "A volcano! it is a volcano in action!" cried Nicholl; 
 "a disemboweling of the interior fires of the moon! That 
 world is not quite extinguished." 
 
 "Yes, an eruption," replied Barbicane, who was care- 
 fully studying the phenomenon through his night glass. 
 "What should it be, if not a volcano?" 
 
ETPEBBOLA OB PABABOLA. 281 
 
 "But, then," said Michel Ardan, "in order to maintain 
 that combustion, there must be air. So the atmosphere 
 does surround that part of the moon." 
 
 "Perhaps so," replied Barbicane, "but not necessarily. 
 The volcano, by the decomposition of certain substances, 
 can provide its own oxygen, and thus throw flames into 
 space. It seems to me that the deflagration, by the in- 
 tense brilliancy of the substances in combustion, is pro- 
 duced in pure oxygen. We must not be in a hurry to 
 proclaim the existence of a lunar atmosphere." 
 
 The fiery mountain must have been situated about the 
 45° south latitude on the invisible part of the disc ; but, 
 to Barbicane's great displeasure, the curve which the pro- 
 jeatile was describing was taking it far from the point in- 
 dicated by the eruption. Thus he could not determine 
 its nature exactly. Half an hour after being sighted, this 
 luminous point had disappeared behind the dark horizon; 
 but the verification of this phenomenon was of considera- 
 ble consequence in their stenographic studies. It proved 
 that all heat had not yet disappeared from the bowels of 
 this globe; and where heat exists, who can aflSrm that the 
 vegetable kingdom, nay, even the animal kingdom itself, 
 has not np to this time resisted all destructive influences? 
 The existence of this volcano in eruption, unmistakably 
 seen by these earthly savants, would doubtless give rise to 
 many theories favorable to the grave question of the habi- 
 tability of the moon. 
 
 Barbicane allowed himself to be carried away by these 
 reflections. He forgot himself in a deep reverie in which 
 the mysterious destiny of the lunar world was uppermost. 
 He was seeking to combine together the facts observed up 
 to that time, when a new incident recalled bim briskly to 
 reality. This incident was more than a cosmical phenom- 
 enon; it was a threatened danger, the consequences of 
 which might be disastrous in the extreme. 
 
2S3 i?!BOJlf THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 Suddenly, in the midst of the ether, in the profound 
 darkness, an enormous mass appeared. It was like a 
 mpon, but an incandescent moon whose brilliancy was all 
 the more intolerable as it cut sharply on the frightful 
 darkness of space. This mass, of a circular form, threw a 
 light which filled the projectile. The forms of Barbicane, 
 Nicholl, and Michel Ardan, bathed in its white sheets, 
 assumed that livid spectral appearance which physicians 
 produce with the fictitious light of alcohol impregnated 
 with salt. 
 
 "By Jove!" cried Michel Ardan, "we are hideous. 
 What is that ill-conditioned moon?" 
 
 "A meteor," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "A meteor burning in space?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 This shooting globe suddenly appearing in shadow at a 
 distance of at most 200 miles, orfght, according to Barbi- 
 cane, to have a diameter of 2,000 yards. It advanced at a 
 speed of about one mile and a half per second. It cut 
 the projectile's path and must reach it in some minutes. 
 As it approached it grew to enormous proportions. 
 
 Imagine, if possible, the situation of the travelers! It 
 is impossible to describe it. In spite of their courage, 
 their sang-froid, their carelessness of danger, they were 
 mute, motionless with stiffened limbs, a prey to fright- 
 ful terror. Their projectile, the course of which they 
 could not alter, was rushing straight oq this ignited mass, 
 more intense than the open moath of an oven. It seemed 
 as though they were being precipitated toward an abyss 
 of fire. 
 
 Barbicane had seized the hands of his two companions, 
 and all three looked through their half-open eyelids upon 
 that asteroid heated to a white heat. If thought was not 
 destroyed within them, if their brains still worked amid 
 ttll this awe, they must have given themselves up for lost. 
 
'MYPEBBOJA or parabola. 283 
 
 Two minutes after t\^ sudden appearance of the meteor 
 (to them two centurJes of anguish) the projectile seemed 
 almost about to strike it, when the globe of fire burst like 
 a bomb, but Tsithout making any noise in that void where 
 sound, which is but the agitation of the layers of air, 
 could not be generated. 
 
 Nicholl uttered a cry, and he and his companions rushed 
 to the scuttle. What a sight! What pen can describe it? 
 What palette is rich enough in colors to reproduce so 
 magnificent a spectacle? 
 
 It was like the opening' of a crater, like the scattering 
 of an immense conflagration. Thousands of luminous 
 fragments lit up and irradiated space with their fires. 
 Every size, every color, was there intermingled. ' There 
 were rays of yellow and pale yellow, red, green, gray— a 
 crown of fireworks of all colors. Of the enormous and 
 much-dreaded globe there remained nothing but these 
 fragments carried in all directions, now become asteroids 
 in their turn, some flaming like a sword, some surrounded 
 by a whitish cloud, and others leaving behind them trains 
 of brilliant cosmical dust. 
 
 These incandescent blocks crossed and struck each other, 
 scattering still smaller fragments, some of which strjjck 
 the projectile. Its left scuttle was even cracked by a vio- 
 lent shock. It seemed to be floating amid a hail of how- 
 itzer shells, the smallest of which might destroy it instantly.' 
 
 The light which saturated the ether was so wonderfully 
 intense, that Michel, drawing Barbicane and Nicholl to 
 his window, exclaimed, "The invisible moon, visible at 
 last!" 
 
 And through a luminous emanation, which lasted some 
 seconds, the whole three caught a glimpse of that myste- 
 rious disc which the eye of man now saw for the first 
 time. What could they distinguish at a distance which 
 theycoald not estimate? Some lengthened bands alopg 
 
284 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 the disc, real clouds formed in the midst of a very con- 
 fined atmosphere, from which emerged not only all the 
 mountains, but also projections of less importance; its 
 circles, its yawning craters, as capriciously placed as on 
 the visible surface. Then immense spaces, no longer 
 arid plains, but real seas, oceans, widely distributed, re- 
 flecting on their liquid surface all the dazzling magic of, 
 the fires of space; and, lastly, on the surface of the con-' 
 tinents, large dark masses, looking like immense forests 
 under the rapid illumination of a brilliance. 
 
 Was it an illusion, a mistake, an optical illusion? Could 
 they give a scientific assent to an observation so superfi- 
 cially obtained? Dared they pronounce upon the question 
 of its habitability after so slight a glimpse of the invisible 
 disc? 
 
 But the lightnings in space subsided by degrees; its ac- 
 cidental brilliancy died away; the asteroids dispersed in 
 different directions and were extinguished in the distance. 
 The ether returned to its accustomed darkness; the stars, 
 eclipsed for a moment, again twinkled in the firmament, 
 and the disc, so hastily discerned, was again buried in im- 
 penetrable night; 
 
THE 80UTEEBN HEMISPHME. 285 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHEEE. 
 
 The projectile had just escaped a terrible danger, and 
 a very unforeseen one. Who Tvonld have thought of such 
 a rencounter with meteors? These erring bodies might 
 create serious perils for the travelers. They were to 
 them so many sandbanks upon that sea of ether which, 
 less fortunate than sailors, they could not escape. But 
 did these adventurers complain of space? No, not since 
 nature had given them the splendid sight of a cosmical 
 meteor bursting from expansion, since this inimitable 
 firework, which no Kuggieri could imitate, had lit up for 
 some seconds the invisible glory of the moon. In that 
 flash, continents, seas, and forests had become visible to 
 them. Did an atmosphere, then, bring to this unknown 
 face its life-giving atoms? Questions still insoluble, and 
 forever closed against human curiosity! 
 
 It was then half-past three in the afternoon. The 
 projectile was following its curvilinear direction round 
 the moon. Had its course been again altered by the 
 meteor? It was to be feared so. But the projectile must 
 describe a curve unalterably determined by the laws of 
 mechanical reasoning. Barbicane was inclined to believe 
 that this curve would be rather a parabola than a hyper- 
 bola. But admitting the parabola, the projectile must 
 quickly have passed through the cone of shadow projected 
 into space opposite the sun. This cone, indeed, is very 
 narrow, the angular diameter of the moon being so little 
 when compared with the diameter of the orb of day; and 
 
286 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOW. 
 
 up to this time the projectile had been floating in this 
 deep shadow. Whatever had been its speed (and it 
 could not have been insignificant), its period of occulta- 
 tion continued. That was evident, but perhaps that 
 would not have been the case in a supposed rigidly para- 
 bolical trajectory — a new problem which tormented 
 Barbioane's brain, imprisoned as he was in a circle of un- 
 knowns which he could not unravel. 
 
 Neither of the travelers thought of taking an instant's 
 repose. Each one watched for an unexpected fact, which 
 might throw some new light on their uranographie stud- 
 ies. About five o'clock, Michel Ardan distributed, under 
 the name of dinner, some pieces of bread and cold meat, 
 which were quickly swallowed without either of them 
 abandoning their scuttle, the glass of which was inoes- 
 santly encrusted by the condensation of vapor. 
 
 About forty-five minutes past five in the evening, 
 Nicholl, armed with his glass, sighted toward the southern 
 border of the moon, and in the direction followed by tha 
 projectile, some bright points cut upon the dark shield at 
 the sky. They looked like a succession of sharp pointf^ 
 lengthened into a tremulous line. They were very bright. 
 Such appeared the terminal line of the moon when in one 
 of her octants. 
 
 They could not be mistaken. It was no longer a sim- 
 ple meteor. This luminous ridge had neither- color nor 
 motion. Nor was it a volcano in eruption. And Barhi- 
 cane did not hesitate to pronounce upon it. 
 
 "The sun!" he exclaimed. 
 
 "What! the sun?" answered Nicholl and Michel 
 Ardan. 
 
 "Yes, my friends, it is the radiant orb itself lighting 
 up the summit of the mountains situated on the southern 
 borders of the moon. We are evidently nearing the south 
 pole." 
 
TEE SO UTHEBN HEMISPHERE. 287 
 
 "After having passed the north pole," replied Michel. 
 "We have made the circuit of our satellite, then?" 
 
 "Yes, my good Michel." 
 
 "Then, no more hyperbolas, no more parabolas, no 
 more open curves to fear?" 
 
 "No, but a closed curve." 
 
 "Which is called " 
 
 "An ellipse. Instead of losing itself in interplanetary 
 space, it is probable that the projectile will describe an 
 elliptical orbit around the moon." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 "And that it will become Tier satellite." 
 
 "Moon of the moon!" cried Michel Ardan. 
 
 "Only,,! would have you observe, my worthy friend," 
 replied Bafbicane, "that we are none the less lost for 
 that." 
 
 "Yes, in another manner, and much more pleasantly," 
 answered ,the careless Frenchman with his most amiable 
 smile. 
 
288 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 TYCHO. 
 
 Ax six in the evening the projectile passed the south 
 pole at less than forty miles off, a distance eqnal to that 
 already reached at the north pole. The elliptical curve 
 was being rigidly carried ont. 
 
 At this moment the travelers once more entered the 
 blessed rays of the sun. They saw once more those stars 
 which ftiove slowly from east to west. The radiant orb 
 was saluted by a triple hurrah. With its light it also sent 
 heat, which soon pierced the metal walls. The glass 
 resumed its accustomed appearance. The layers of ice 
 melted as if by enchantment; and immediately, for econ- 
 omy's sake, the gas was put out, the air apparatus alone 
 consuming its usual quantity. 
 
 "Ah!" said Nicholl, "these rays of heat are good. 
 With what impatience must the Selenites wait the reap- 
 pearance of the orb of day." 
 
 "Yes," replied Michel Ardan, "imbibing as it were 
 the brilliant ether, light, and heat, all life is contained 
 in them." 
 
 At this moment the bottom of the projectile deviated 
 somewhat from the lunar surface, in order to follow the 
 slightly lengthened elliptical orbit. From this point, 
 had the earth been at the full, Barbicane and his com- 
 panions could have seen it, but immersed in the sun's 
 irradiation she was quite invisible. Another spectacle at- 
 tracted their attention, that of the southern part of the 
 moon, brought by the glasses to within 450 yards. They 
 did not again leave the scuttles, and noted every detail of 
 this fantastical continent. 
 
TTGHO. 289 
 
 Mounts Doerfel and Leibnitz formed two separate 
 groups very near the south pole. The first group ex- 
 tended from the pole to the eighty-fourth parallel, on the 
 eastern part of the orb; the second occupied the eastern 
 border, extending from the 65° of latitude to the pole. 
 
 On their capriciously formed ridge appeared dazzling 
 sheets, as mentioned by Pere Secchi. With more cer- ' 
 tainty than the" illustrious Roman astronomer, Barbicane 
 was enabled to recognize their nature. 
 
 "They are snow," he exclaimed. 
 
 "Snow?" repeated Nicholl. 
 
 "Yes, Nicholl, snow; the surface of which is deeply 
 frozen. See how they reflect the luminous rays. Cooled 
 lava would never give out such intense reflection. There 
 must then be water, there must be air on the moon. Aa 
 little as you please, but the fact can no longer be con- 
 tested." No, it could not be. And if ever Barbicane 
 should see the earth again, his notes will bear witness to 
 this great fact in his selenographic observations. 
 
 These mountains of Doerfel and Leibnitz rose in the 
 midst of plains of a medium extent, which were bounded 
 by an indefinite succession of circles and annular ram- 
 parts. These two chains ara the only ones met with in 
 this region of circles. Comparatively but slightly marked, 
 they throw up here and there some sharp points, the 
 highest summit of which attains an altitude of 24,600 
 feet. 
 
 But the projectile was high above all this landscape, 
 and the projections disappeared in the intense brilliancy 
 of the disc. And to the eyes of the travelers there reap- 
 peared that original aspect of the lunar landscapes, raw in 
 tone, without gradation of colors, and without degrees of 
 shadow, roughly black and white, from the want of diffu- 
 sion of light. ' 
 
 But the sisht of this desolate world did not |ail to cap-s 
 
290 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 tivafce them by its very strangeness. They were moving 
 over this region as if they had been borne on the breath 
 of some storm, watching heights defile under their feet, 
 piercing the cavities with their eyes, going down into the 
 rifts, climbing the ramparts, sounding these mysterious 
 holes, and leveling all cracks. But no trace of vegetation, 
 no appearance of cities; nothing but stratification, beds of 
 lava, overflowings polished like immense mirrors, reflect- 
 ing the sun's rays with overpowering brilliancy. Noth- 
 ing belonging to a living world — everything to a dead 
 world, where avalanches, rolling from the summits of the 
 mountains, would disperse noiselessly at the bottom of 
 the abyss, retaining the motion, but wanting the sound. 
 In any case it was the image of death, without its being 
 possible even to say that life had ever existed there. 
 
 Michel Ardan, however, thought he recognized a heap 
 of ruins, to which he drew Barbicane's attention. It was 
 about the 80th parallel, in 30° longitude. This heap of 
 stones, rather regularly placed, represented a vast fortress, 
 overlooking a long rift, which in former days had served 
 as a bed to the rivers of prehistorical times. Not far 
 from that, rose to a height of 17,400 feet the annular 
 mountain of Short, equal to the Asiatic Caucasus. Michel 
 Ardan, with his accustomed ardor, maintained "the 
 evidences" of his fortress. Beneath it he discerned the 
 dismantled ramparts of a town; here the still intact arch 
 of a portico, there two or three columns lying under their 
 base; farther on, a succession of arches which must have 
 supported the conduit of an aqueduct; in another part 
 the sunken pillars of a gigantic bridge, run into the 
 thickest parts of the rift. He distinguished all this, but 
 with so much imagination in his glance, and through 
 glasses so fantastical, that we must mistrust bis observa- 
 tion. Bat who could affirm, who would dare to say, that 
 the amiable fellow did not really see that which his two 
 gompanion? would not see? 
 
TTGHO. 391 
 
 Moments were too precious to be sacrificed in idle dis- 
 cussion. The Selenite city, whether imaginary or not, 
 had already disappeared afar ofE. The distance of the pro- 
 jectile from the lunar disc was on the increase, and the 
 details of the soil were being lost ,in a confused jumble. 
 The reliefs, the circles, the craters, and plains alone re- 
 mained, and still showed their boundary lines distinctly. 
 At this moment, to the left, lay extended one of the 
 finest circles of lunar orography, one of the curiosities of 
 this continent. It was Newton, which Barbicane recog- 
 nized without trouble, by referring to the Mappa Seleno- 
 grapMca. 
 
 Newton is situated in exactly 77° south latitude, and 
 '16° east longitude. It forms an annular crater, the ram- 
 parts of which, rising to a height of 31,300 feet, seemed 
 to be impassable. 
 
 Barbicane made his companions observe that the height 
 of this mountain above the surrounding plain was far 
 from equaling the depth of its crater. This enormous 
 hole was beyond all measurement, and formed a gloomy 
 abyss, the bottom of which the sun's rays could never 
 reach. There, according to Humboldt, reigns utter 
 darkness, which the light of the sun and the earth can- 
 not break. Mythologists could well have made it the 
 mouth of hell. 
 
 "Newton," said Barbicane, "is the most perfect type 
 of these annular mountains, of which the earth possesses 
 no sampile. They prove that the moon's formation, by 
 means of cooling, is due to violent causes; for while, 
 nnder the pressure of internal fires the reliefs rise to con- 
 siderable height, the depths withdraw far below the lunar 
 level." 
 
 "I do not dispute the fact," replied Michel Ardan. 
 
 Some minutes after passing Newton, the projectile 
 directly overlooked the annular mountain of Moret. li 
 
293 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 skirted at some distance the Bummits of Blancanns, and 
 at about half -past seven in the evening reached the circle 
 of Clavins. 
 
 This circle, one of the most remarkable of the disc, is 
 situated in 58° south latitude, and 15° east longitude. Its 
 height is estimated at 22,950 feet. The travelers, '^at a 
 distance of twenty-four miles (reduced to four by their 
 glasses), could admire this vast crater in its entirety. 
 
 "Terrestrial volcanoes," said Barbicane, "are but mole- 
 hills compared with those of the moon. Measuring the 
 old craters formed by the first eruptions of Vesuvius and 
 Etna, we find them little more than three miles in breadth. 
 In France the circle of Cantal measures six miles across; 
 at Ceyland the circle of the island is forty miles, which is 
 considered the largest on the globe. What are these 
 diameters against that of Clavius, which we overlook at 
 this moment?" 
 
 "What is its breadth?" asked Nicholl. 
 
 "It is 150 miles," replied Barbicane. "This circle is 
 certainly the most important on the moon, but many 
 others measure 150, 100, or 75 miles." 
 
 "Ah! my friends," exclaimed Michel, "can you pic- 
 ture to yourselves what this now peaceful orb , of night 
 must have been when its craters, filled with thunderings, 
 vomited at the same time smoke and tongues of flame. 
 What a wonderful spectacle then, and now what decay! 
 This moon is nothing more than a thin carcase of fire- 
 works, whose squibs, rockets, serpents, and suns, after a 
 superb brilliancy, have left but sadly broken cases. Who 
 can say the cause, the reason, the motive force of these 
 cataclysms?" * 
 
 ' Barbicane was not listening to Michel Ardan; he was 
 contemplating these ramparts of Claviws, formed by large 
 mountains spread over several miles. At the bottom of 
 the immense cavity burrowed hundreds of smalL extin- 
 
TTOHO. 293 
 
 gnishcd craters, riddling the soil likea colander, and over- 
 looked by a peak 15,000 feet high. 
 
 Around the plain appeared desolate. Nothing so arid 
 as these reliefs, nothing so sad as these ruins of monn- 
 tains, and (if we may so express ourselves) these fragments 
 of peaks and mountains which strewed the soil. The 
 satellite seemed to have burst at this spot. 
 
 The projectile was still advancing, and this movement 
 did not subside. Circles, craters, and uprooted moun- 
 tains succeeded each other incessantly. No more plains; 
 no more seas. A never ending Switzerland and Norway. 
 And lastly, in the center of this region of crevasses, the 
 most splendid mountain on the lunar disc, the dazzling 
 Tycho, in which posterity will ever preserve the name of 
 the illustrious Danish astronomer. 
 
 In observing the full moon in a cloudless sky no one 
 has failed to remark this brilliant point of the southern 
 hemisphere. Michel Ardan used every metaphor that 
 his imagination could supply to designate it by. To him 
 this Tycho was a focus of light, a center of irradiation, a 
 crater vomiting rays. It was the tire of a brilliant wheel, 
 an asteria enclosing the disc with its silver tentacles, an 
 enormous eye filled with flames, a glory carved for Pluto's 
 head, a star launched by the Creator's hand, and crushed 
 against the face of the moon! 
 
 Tycho forms such a concentration of light that the 
 inhabitants of the earth can see it without glasses, though 
 at a distance of 24:0,000 miles! Imagine, then, its inten- 
 sity to the eye of observers placed at a distance of only 
 fifty miles! Seen through this pure ether, its brilliancy 
 was so intolerable that Barbicane and his friends were 
 obliged to blacken their glasses with the gas smoke before 
 they could bear the splendor. Then silent, scarcely 
 uttering an interjection of admiration, they gazed, they 
 contemplated. All their feelings, all their impressions, 
 
294 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 were concentrated in that look, as under any violent 
 emotion all life is concentrated at the heart. 
 
 Tycho helongs to the system of radiating mountains, 
 like Aristarchus and Copernicus; but it is of all the most 
 complete and decided, showing unquestionably the fright- 
 ful volcanic action to which the formation of the moon is 
 due. Tycho is situated in 43° south latitude, and 13° 
 east longitude. Its center is occupied by a crater fifty 
 miles broad. It assumes a slightly elliptical form, and is 
 surrounded by an enclosure of annular ramparts, which 
 on the east and west overlook the outer plain from a 
 height of 15,000 feet. It is a group of Mont Blancs, 
 placed round one common center and crowned by radiat- 
 ing beams. 
 
 What this incomparable mountain really is, with all 
 the projections converging toward it, and the interior 
 excrescences of its crater, photography itself could never 
 represent. Indeed, it is during the full moon that Tycho 
 is seen in all its splendor. Then all shadows disappear, 
 the foreshortening of perspective disappears, and all 
 proofs become white — a disagreeable fact ; for this strange 
 region would have been marvelous if reproduced with 
 photographic exactness. It is but a group of hollows, 
 craters, circles, a network of crests; then, as far as the 
 eye could see, a whole volcanic network cast upon this 
 encrusted soil. One can then understand that the bub- 
 bles of this central eruption have kept their first form. 
 Crystallized by cooling, they have stereotyped that aspect 
 which the moon formerly presented when under the 
 Plutonian forces. 
 
 The distance which separated the travelers from the 
 annular summits of Tycho was not so great but that they 
 could catch the principal details. Even on the causeway 
 forming the fortifications of Tycho, the mountains hang- 
 ing on to the interior and exterior sloping flanks rose in 
 
TTCHO. 395 
 
 stories like gigantic terraces. They appeared to be higher 
 by 300 or 400 feet to the west than to the east. No 
 system of terrestrial encampment could equal these 
 natural fortifications. A town bailt at the bottom of this 
 circular cavity would have been utterly inaccessible. 
 
 Inaccessible and wonderfully extended over this soil 
 covered with picturesque projections! Indeed, nature 
 had not left the bottom of this crater flat and empty. It 
 possessed its own peculiar orography, a mountainous sys- 
 tem, making it a world in itself. The travelers could dis- 
 tinguish clearly cones, central hills, remarkable positions 
 of the soil, naturally placed to receive the chefs-cfeeuvre 
 of Selenite architecture. There was marked out the place 
 for a temple, here the ground of a forum, on this spot the 
 plan of a palace, in another the plateau for a citadel; 
 the whole overlooked by a central mountain of 1,500 feet. 
 A vast circle, in which ancient Eome could have been 
 held in its entirety ten times over. 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, enthusiastic at the 
 sight; '•''what a grand town might be constructed within 
 that ring^of mountains! A quiet city, a peaceful refuge, 
 beyond all human misery. How calm and isolated those 
 misanthropes, those haters of humanity might live there, 
 and all who have a distaste for social life !" 
 
 "All! It would be too small for them," replied Barbi- 
 cane simply. 
 
296 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 GRAVE QUESTIONS. 
 
 But the projectile had passed the enceinte of Tycho, 
 and Barblcane and his two companions watched with 
 scrnpnlons attention the brilliant rays which the cele- 
 brated mountain shed so curiously all over the horizon. 
 
 What was this radiant glory? What geological phe- 
 nomenon had designed these ardent beams? This ques- 
 tion occupied Barbicane's mind. 
 
 Under his eyes ran in all directions luminous furrows, 
 raised at the edges and concave in the center, some twelve 
 miles, others thirty miles broad. These brilliant trains 
 extended in some places to within 600 miles of Tycho, 
 and seemed to cover, particularly toward the east, the 
 northeast and the north, the half of the southern hemis- 
 phere. One of these jets extended as far as the circle of 
 Neauder, situated on the 40th meridian. Another, by a 
 slight curve, furrowed the "Sea of Nectar," breaking 
 against the chain of Pyrenees, after a circuit of 800 miles. 
 Others, toward the west, covered the "Sea of Clouds" and 
 the "Sea of Humors" with a luminous network. What 
 was the origin of these sparkling rays, which shone on the 
 plains as well as on the reliefs, at whatever height they 
 might be? All started from a common center, the crater 
 of Tycho. They sprang from him. Herschel attributed 
 their brilliancy to currents of lava congealed by the cold; 
 an opinion, however, which has not been generally 
 adopted. Other astronomers have seen in these inexpli- 
 
QBA V£l Q UE8TI0NS. 297 
 
 cable rays a kind of moraines, rows of erratic blocks, which 
 had been thrown up at the period ofTycho's formation. 
 
 "And why not?" asked Nicholl of Barbicane, who was 
 relating and rejecting these different opinions. 
 ' "Because the regularity of these luminous lines, and 
 the violence necessary to carry volcanic matter to such 
 distances, is inexplicable." 
 
 "Eh! by Jove!" replied Michel Ardan, "it seems easy 
 enough to me to explain the origin of these rays." 
 
 "Indeed?" said Barbicane. 
 
 "Indeed," continued Michel. "It is enough to say 
 that it is a vast star, similar tp that produced by a ball or 
 a stone thrown at a square of glass!" 
 
 "Well!" replied Barbicane, smiling. "And what 
 hand' would be powerful enough to throw a ball to give 
 such a shock as that?" 
 
 "The hand is not necessary," answered Nicholl, not at 
 all confounded; "and as to the stone, let us suppose it to 
 be a comet." 
 
 "Ah! those much-abnsed comets!" exclaimed Barbi- 
 cane. "My brave Michel, your explanation is not bad ; 
 but your comet is useless. The shock which produced 
 that rent must have come from the inside of the star. 
 A violent contraction of the lunar crust, while cooling, 
 might suffice to imprint this gigantic star." 
 
 "A contraction! something like a lunar stomach-ache," 
 said Michel Ardan. 
 
 "Besides," added Barbicane, "this opinion is that of 
 an English savant, Nasmyth, and it seems to me to suf- 
 ficiently explain the radiation of these mountains." 
 
 "That Nasmyth was no fool!" replied Michel. 
 
 Long did the travelers, whom such a sight could never 
 weary, admire the splendors of Tycho. Their projectile, 
 saturated with luminous gleams in the double irradiation 
 of sun and moon, must have appeared like an inpandescent 
 
398 FROM THE EARTH TO TBE MOON. 
 
 globe. They had passed suddenly from excessive cold to 
 intense heat. Nature was thus preparing them to be- 
 come Selenites. Become Selenites! That idea brought 
 up once more the question of the habitability of the 
 moon. After what they had seen, could the travelers 
 solve it? Would they decide -for or against it? Michel 
 Ardan persuaded his two friends to form an opinion, and 
 asked them directly if they thought that men and animals 
 were represented in the lunar world. 
 
 "I think that we can answer," said Barbicane; "but 
 according to my idea the question dught not to be put in 
 that form. I ask it to be put differently." 
 
 "Put it ybur own way," replied Michel. 
 
 "Here it is," continued Barbicane. "The problem is a 
 double one, and requires a double solution. Is the moon 
 habitable ? Has the moon ever been inhabitable ?" 
 
 "Good!" replied Nicholl. "First let us see whether 
 the moon is habitable." 
 
 "To tell the truth, I know nothing about it," answered 
 Michel. 
 
 "And I answer in the negative," continued Barbicane. 
 "In her actual state, with her surrounding atmosphere 
 certainly very much reduced, her seas for the most part 
 dried up, her insnfiBcient supply of water restricted, vege- 
 tation, sudden alterations of cold and heat, her days and 
 nights of 354 hours — the moon does not seem habitable to 
 me, nor does she seem propitious to animal development, 
 nor sufficient for the wants of existence as we understand 
 it." 
 
 "Agreed," replied Nicholl. "But is not the moon 
 habitable for creatures differently organized from our- 
 selves?" 
 
 "That question is more difficult to answer, but I will 
 try; and I ask Nicholl if motion appears to him to be* 
 necessary result of life, wh»tever be its organization?" 
 
GBA VE Q UESTIONS. 299 
 
 ' "Without a ^onbt!" answered NichoU. 
 
 "Then, my worthy companion, I would answer that we 
 have observed the lunar continent at a distance of 500 
 yards at most, and that nothing seemed to us to move on 
 the moon's surface. The presence of any kind of life 
 would hare been betrayed by its attendant marks, such as 
 ; divers buildings, and even by ruins. And what have wo 
 iSeen? Everywhere and always the, geological works of 
 nature, never the work of man. If, then, there exist 
 representatives of the animal kingdom on the moon, they 
 must have fled to those unfathomable cavities which the 
 eye cannot reach ; which I cannot admit, for they must 
 have left traces of their passage on those plains which the 
 atmosphere must cover, howeter slightly raised it may be. 
 These traces are nowhere visible. There remains but one 
 hypothesis, that of a living race to which motion, which 
 is life, is foreign." 
 
 "One might as well say, living creatures which do not 
 live," replied Michel. 
 
 "Just so," said Barbicane, "which for us has no mean- 
 ing." 
 
 "Then we may form our opinion?" said Michel. 
 
 "Yes," replied Nicholl. 
 
 "Very well," continued Michel Ardan, "the Scientific 
 Commission assembled in the projectile of the Gun Club, 
 after having founded their argument on facts recently 
 observed, decide unanimously upon the question of the 
 habitability of the moon — 'No! the moon is not habita- 
 ble.' " 
 
 This decision was consigned by President Barbicane to 
 his notebook, where the process of the sitting of the 6th 
 of December may be seen. 
 
 "Now," said Nicholl, "let us attack the second ques- 
 tion, an indispensable complement of the first. I ask 
 the honorable commission, if the moon is not ha.bitStble, 
 has she ever been inhabited, Citizei^.Bafbicane?'' 
 
300 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOK 
 
 "My friends," replied- Barbicane, "I did not undertake 
 this journey in order to form an opinion on the past 
 habitability of onr satellite; bat I will add that our per- 
 sonal observations only confirm me in this opinion. 1 
 believe, indeed I affirm, that the moon has been inhabited 
 by a human race organized like our own; that she has 
 produced animals anatomically formed like the terrestrial 
 animals: but I add that these races, human or animal, 
 have had their day, and are how forever extinct!" 
 
 "Then," asked ^ichel, "the moon must be older than 
 the earth?" 
 
 "No!" said Barbicane decidedly, "but a world which 
 has grown old quicker, and whose formation and defor- 
 mation have been more/ rapid. Eelatively, the organiz- 
 ing force of matter has been much more violent in the 
 interior of the moon ths^n in the interior of the terrestrial 
 globe. The actual state of this cracked, twisted, and 
 burst disc abundantly proves this. The moon and the 
 earth were nothing but gaseous masses originally. These 
 gases have passed into a liquid state under difEerent in- 
 fluences, and the solid masses have been formed later. 
 But most certainly our sphere was still gaseous or liquid, 
 when the moon was solidified by cooling, and had become 
 habitable." 
 
 "I believe it," said Nicholl, 
 
 "Then," continued Barbicane, "an atmosphere sur- 
 rounded it, the waters contained within this gaseous en- 
 velope could not evaporate. Under the influence of air, 
 water, light, solar heat, and central heat, vegetation took 
 possession of the continents prepared to receive it, and'j 
 certainly life showed itself about this period, for nature 
 does not expend herself in vain; and a world so wonder- 
 fully formed for habitation must necessarily be inhabited. 
 
 "Bgt," said Nicholl, "many phenomena inherent in 
 our satellite might cramp th« expansion of the aninii 
 
QBAVE QUESTIONS. 301 
 
 and vegetable kingdom. For example, its days and nights 
 of 354 hours?" 
 
 "At the terrestrial poles they last siz months," said 
 Michel. 
 
 "An argument of little value, since the poles are not 
 inhabited." 
 
 "Let us observe, my friends,"-continned Barbicane, 
 "that if in the actual state of the moon its long nights . 
 and long days created differences of temperature insup- 
 portable to organization, it was not so at the historical 
 period of time. The atmosphere enveloped the disc with 
 a fluid mantle; vapor deposited itself in the shape of 
 clouds; this natural screen tempered the ardor of the 
 solar rays, and retained the nocturnal radiation. Light, 
 like heat, can difEuse itself in the air; hence an equality 
 between the influences which no longer exists, now that 
 that atmosphere has almost entirely disappeared. And 
 now I am going to astonish you." 
 
 "Astonish us?" said Michel Ardan. 
 
 "I firmly believe that at the period when the moon 
 was inhabited, the nights and days did not last 354 
 hours!" 
 
 "And why?" asked Nicholl quickly. -^ 
 
 "Because most probably then the rotary motion of the 
 moon upon her axis was not equal to her revolution, an 
 equality which presents each part of her disc during fif- 
 teen days to the action of the solar rays." 
 
 "Granted," replied Nicholl, "but why should not these 
 two mptions have been equal, as they are really so?" 
 
 "Because that equality has only been determined by 
 terrestrial attraction. And who can say that this attrac- 
 tion was powerful enough to alter the motion of the moon 
 at that period when the earth was still fluid?" 
 
 "Just so," replied Nicholl; "and who can say that thg 
 niQon has al'ways been a satellite of the earth?'' 
 
303 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "And who can say," exclaimed Michel Ardan, "that 
 the moon ditl not exist before the earth!"' 
 
 Their imaginations carried them away into an indefinite 
 field of hypothesis. Barbicane sought to restrain them. 
 
 "Those speculations are too high," said he; "problems 
 utterly insoluble. Do not let ns enter upon them. Let 
 ns only admit the insafficiency of the primordial attrac- 
 tion; and then by the inequality of the two motions of 
 rotation and revolution, the days and nights could have 
 succeeded each other on the moon as they succeed each 
 other on the earth. Besides, even without these condi- 
 tions, life was possible." 
 
 "And so," asked Michel Ardan, "humanity has disap- 
 peared from the moon?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Barbicane, "after having doubtless re- 
 mained persistently for millions of centuries; by degrees 
 the atmosphere becoming rarefied, the disc became unin- 
 habitable, as the terrestrial globe will one day become by 
 cooling." 
 
 "By cooling?" 
 
 "Certainly," replied ^^arbicane; "as the internal fires 
 became extinguished, and the incandescent matter con- 
 centrated itself, the lunar crust cooled. By degrees the 
 consequences of these phenomena showed themselves in 
 the disappearance of organized beings, and by the disap- 
 pearance of vegetation. Soon the atmosphere was rare- 
 fied, probably withdrawn by terrestrial attraction; then 
 aerial departure of respirable air, and disappearance of 
 water by means of evaporation. At this period the moon, 
 becoming uninhabitable, was no longer inhabited. It 
 was a dead world, such as we see it to-day." 
 
 "And yon say that the same fate is in store for tbv 
 earth?" 
 
 "Most probably." 
 
 "But when?" 
 
GBA VB Q UESTI0N8. 30S 
 
 ''When the cooling of its crust shall have made it nnin- 
 habitable." 
 
 "And have they calcnlated the time which our unfor- 
 tunate sphere will take to cool?" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "And you know these calculations?" 
 
 "Perfectly." 
 
 "But speak, then, my clumsy ' savant," exclaimed 
 Michel Ardan, "for you make me boil with impatience!" 
 
 "Very well, my good Michel," replied Barbicane 
 quietly; "we know what diminution of temperature the 
 earth undergoes in the lapse of a century. And accord- 
 ing to certain calculations, this mean temperature will, 
 after a period of 400,000 years, be brought down to zero!" 
 
 "Four hundred thousand years!" exclaimed Michel. 
 "Ah! I breathe again. Eeally I was frightened to hear 
 you ; I imagined that we had not more than 50,000 years 
 to live." 
 
 Barbicane and Nicholl could not help laughing at their 
 companion's uneasiness. Then Nicholl, who wished to 
 end the discussion, put the second question, wjiich had 
 just been considered again. 
 
 "Has the moon been inhabited?" he asked. 
 
 The answer was unanimously in the affirmative. But 
 during this discussion, fruitful iQ somewhat hazardous 
 theories^ the projectile was rapidly leaving the moon: the 
 lineaments faded away from the travelers' eyes, moun- 
 tains were confused in the distan(}e; and of all the won- 
 derful, strange, and fantastical form of the earth's satel- 
 lite, there soon remained nothing bat the imperishabU 
 remembrance. 
 
304 PROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 OHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 A STRUGGLE AGAINST THE IMPOSSIBLE. 
 
 Fob a long time Barbicane and his companions lookei. 
 silently and sadly upon that world -which they had only 
 seen from a distance, as Moses saw the land of Canaan, 
 and which they were leaving without a possibility of ever 
 . returning to it. The projectile's position with regard to 
 the moon had altered, and the base was now turned to 
 the earth. 
 
 This change, which Barbicane verified, did not fail to 
 surprise them. If the projectile was to gravitate round 
 the satellite in an elliptical orbit, why was not its heaviest 
 part turned toward it, as the moon turns hers to the earth? 
 That was a difficult point. 
 
 In watching the course of the projectile they could see 
 that on leaving the moon it followed a course analogous 
 to that traced in approaching her. It was describing a 
 very long ellipse, which would most likely extend to the 
 point of equal attraction, where the infiuenoes of the earth 
 and its satellite are neutralized. 
 
 Such was the conclusion which Barbicane very justly 
 drew from facts already observed, a conviction which his 
 two friends shared with him. 
 
 "And when arrived at this dead point, what will become 
 of us?" asked Michel Ardan. 
 
 "We don't know," replied Barbicane. 
 
 "But one can draw some hypotheses, I suppose?" 
 
 "Two," answered Barbicane; "either the projectile's 
 speed will be insufficient, and it will remain forever im- 
 movable on this line of double attraction " 
 
A STRUOGLE AGAINST THE IMPOSSIBLE. 305 
 
 "I prefer the other hypothesis, whatever it may be," 
 interrupted Michel. 
 
 "Or," continued Barbicane, "its speed will be suflBcient, 
 and it will continue its elliptical course, to gravitate for- 
 ever around the orb of night." 
 
 "A revolution not at all consoling," said Michel, "to 
 pass to "the state of humble servants to a moon whom wa 
 are accustomed to look upon as our own handmaid. S > 
 that is the fate in store for us?" 
 
 Neither Barbicane nor Nicholl answered. 
 
 "You do not answer," continued Michel impatiently. 
 
 "There is nothing to answer," said MchoU. 
 
 "Is there nothing to try?" 
 
 "No," answered Barbicane. "Do you pretend to fight 
 against the impossible?" 
 
 "Why not? Do one Frenchman and two Americana 
 shrink from such a word?" 
 
 "But what would you do?" 
 
 "Subdue this motion which is bearing us away." 
 
 "Subdue it?" 
 
 "Yes," continued Michel, getting animated, "or else 
 alter it, and employ it to the accomplishment of our own 
 ends." 
 
 "And how?" 
 
 "That is your affair. If artillerymen are not masters 
 of their projectile they are not artillerymen. If the pro- 
 jectile is to command the gunner, we had better ram the 
 gunner into the gun. My faith! fine savants! who do 
 not know what is to become of us after inducing me "f 
 
 "Inducing you!" cried Barbicane anr" Nicholl. "In. 
 ducing you! What do you mean by that?" 
 
 "No recrimination," said Michel. "I do not complain; 
 the trip has pleased me, the projectile agrees with me; 
 but let ns do all that is humanly possible to do to fall 
 eomewhere, even if only on the moon." 
 
306 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 "We ask no better, my worthy Michel," replied Barbi< 
 cane, "but means fail ns." 
 
 "We cannot alter the motion of the projectile?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Nor diminish its ^peed?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Not even by lightening it, as they lighten an over- 
 loaded vessel?" 
 
 "What would yon throw ont?" said NichoU. "We 
 have no ballast on board; and indeed it seems to me that 
 if lightened it would go much quicker." 
 
 "Slower." 
 
 "Quicker." 
 
 "Neither slower nor quicker," said Barbicane, wishing 
 to make his two friends agree; "for we float in space, and 
 must no longer consider specific weight." 
 
 "Very well," cried Michel Ardan in a decided voice; 
 "then there remains but one thing to do." 
 
 "What is it?" said NichoU. 
 
 "Breakfast," answered the cool, audacious Frenchman, 
 who always brought up this solution at the most difficult 
 juncture. 
 
 In any case, if this operation had no influence on the 
 projectile's course, it could at least be tried without in- 
 convenience, and even with success from a stomachic 
 point of view. Certainly Michel had none but good ideas. 
 
 They breakfasted then at two in the morning; the hour 
 mattered little. Michel served his usual repast, crowned 
 by a glorious bottle drawn from his private cellar. If 
 ideas did not crowd on their brains, we must despair of 
 "the Chambei'tin of 1853. The repast finished, observa- 
 tions b<gan again. Around the projectile, at an invaria- 
 ble distance, were the objects which had been thrown ont. 
 Evidently, in its translatory motion round the moon, it 
 had not passed through any atmosphere, for the specific 
 
A STRmQLS AQAtmr TMB rMPOSSlSLK 30'? 
 
 weight of these different objects would have checked their 
 relative speed. 
 
 On the side of the terrestrial sphere nothing was to be 
 seen. The earth was but a day old, having been new the 
 night before at twelve; and two days must elapse before 
 its crescent, freed from the solar rays, would serve as a 
 clock to the Selenites, as in its rotatory movement each 
 of its points after twenty-four hours repasses the ^ame 
 lunar meridian. 
 
 On the moon's side the vsight was different; the orb 
 shone in ail her splendor amid innumerable constellations, 
 whose purity could not be troubled by her rays. On the 
 disc, the plains were already returning to the dark tint 
 which is seen from the earth. The other part of the nim- 
 bus remained brilliant, and in the midst of this general 
 brilliancy Tycho shone prominently like a sun. 
 
 Barbicane had no means of estimating the projectile's 
 speed, but reasoning showed that it mast uniformly de- 
 crease, according to the laws of mechanical reasoning. 
 Having admitted that the projectile was describing an 
 orbit round the moon, this orbit must necessarily be ellip- 
 tical; science proves that it must be so. No motive body 
 circulating round an attracting body fails in this law. 
 Every orbit described in space is elliptical. And why 
 should the projectile of the Oun Club escape this natural 
 arrangement? In elliptical orbits, the attracting body 
 always occupies one of the foci; so that at one moment*' 
 the satellite is nearer, and at another farther from the orb 
 around which it gravitates. When the earth is nearest 
 the sun she is in her perihelion ; and in her aphelion at 
 the farthest point. Speaking of the moon, she is nearest 
 to the earth in her perigee, and farthest from it in her 
 apogee. To use analogous expressions, with which the 
 astronomers' language is enriched, if the projectile re- 
 mains as a satellite of the moon, we must say that it is ia 
 
308 FROM THE BARTB TO TME MOOm 
 
 its "aposelene" at its farthest point, and in its "periselene" 
 at its nearest. In the latter case, the projectile wonld 
 attain its maximum of speed; and in the former its mini> 
 mnm. It was evidently moving toward its aposelenitical 
 point; and Barbicane had reason to think that its speed 
 'would decrease np to this point, and then increase by de- 
 grees as it neared the moon. This speed would even be- 
 come nil, if this point joined that of equal attraction. 
 Barbicane studied the consequences of these different sit- 
 uations, and thinking what inference he could draw from 
 them, when he was roughly disturbed by a cry from 
 Michel Ardan. 
 
 "By Jove!" he exclaimed, "I must admit we are down- 
 right simpletons !" 
 
 "I do nt)t say we are not," replied Barbicane; "but 
 why?" 
 
 "Because we have a very simple means of checking this 
 speed which is bearing us from the moon, and we do not 
 use it!" 
 
 "And what is the meaijs?" 
 
 "To use the recoil contained in our rockets." 
 
 "Done!" said Nicholl. 
 
 "We have not used this force yet," said Barbicane, "it 
 is true, but we will do so." 
 
 "When?" asked Michel. 
 
 "When the time comes. Observe, my friends, that in 
 the position occupied by the projectile, an oblique position 
 with regard to the lunar disc, our rockets, in slightly al- 
 tering its direction, might turn it from the moon instead 
 of drawing it nearer?" 
 
 "Just so," replied Michel. 
 
 "Let us wait, thett. By some inexplicable influence, 
 the projectile is turning its base toward the earth. It is 
 probable that at the point of equal attraction, its conical 
 cap svill be directed rigidly toward the moon; at that mo- 
 
A STBVaaLB AGAINST TEE IMPQBBIBLE. 309 
 
 ment we may hope that its speed will be nil; then will be 
 the moment to act, and with the influence of onr rockets 
 we may perhaps provoke a fall directly on the surface of 
 the Innar disc." 
 
 "Bravo!" said Michel. "What we did not do, what 
 we could not do on our first passage at the dead point, 
 because the projectile was then endowed with too great a 
 speed." 
 
 "Very well reasoned," said Nichol. 
 
 "Let us wait patiently," continned Barbicane. "Put- 
 ting every chance on our side, and after having so much 
 despaired, I may say I think that we shall gain our end." 
 
 This conclusion was a signal for Michel Ardan's hips and 
 hurrahs. And none of the audacious boobies remembered 
 the question that they themselves had solved in the nega- 
 tive. No! the moon is not inhabited; no! the moon is 
 probably not habitable. And yet they were going to try 
 everything to reach her. 
 
 One single question remained to be solved. At what 
 precise moment the projectile would reach the point of 
 equal attraction, on which the travelers must play their 
 last c^rd. In order to calculate this to within a few sec- 
 onds, Barbicane had only to refer to his notes, and to 
 reckon the different heights taken on the lunar parallels. 
 Thus the time necessary to travel over the distance be- 
 tween the dead point and the south pole would be equal 
 , to the distance separating the north pole from the dead 
 'point. The hours representing the time traveled over 
 were carefully noted, and the calculation was easy. Barbi- 
 cane found that this point would be reached at one in 
 the morning on the night of the 7th-8th of December. 
 So that, if nothing interfered with its course, it would 
 reach the given point in twenty-two hours. 
 
 The rockets had primarily been placed to check the 
 fall of the projectile upon the moon, and now they were 
 
510 :b'BOM tee earth to the moon. 
 
 going to employ them for a directly contrary purpose. In 
 any case they were ready, and they had only to wait for 
 the moment to set fire to them. 
 
 "Since there is nothing else to be done," said Nichol, 
 "I make a proposition." 
 
 "What is it?" asked Barbicane. 
 
 "I propose to go to sleep." 
 
 "What a motion!" exclaimed Michel Ardan. 
 
 "It is forty hours since we closed our eyes," said Nioh- 
 oll. "Some hours of sleep will restore our strength." 
 
 "Never," interrupted Michel. 
 
 "Well," continued NichoU, "every one to his taste; I 
 shall go to sleep." And stretching himself on the divan, 
 he soon snored like a forty-eight pounder. 
 
 "That Nichol has a good deal of sense," said Barbicane; 
 "presently I shall follow his example." Some moments 
 after his continued bass supported the captain's baritone. 
 
 "Certainly," said Michel Ardan, finding himself alone, 
 "these practical people have sometimes most opportune 
 ideas." 
 
 , And with his long legs stretched out, and his great 
 arms folded under his head, Michel slept in his turn. 
 
 But this sleep could be neither peaceful nor lasting, 
 the minds of these three men were too much occupied, 
 and some hours after, about seven in the morning, all 
 three were on foot at the same instant. 
 
 The projectile was still leaving the moon, and turning 
 its conical part more and more toward her. 
 
 An explicable phenomenon, but one which happily 
 served Barbicane's ends. 
 
 Seventeen hours more, and the moment for action would 
 have arrived. 
 
 The day seemed long. However bold the travelers 
 might be, they were greatly impressed by the approach of 
 that moment which would decide all— either precipitate 
 
A STRUGGLE AGAINST THE IMPOSSIBLE. 311 
 
 their fall on to the moon, or forever chain them in an 
 immutable orbit. They counted the hours as they passed 
 too slow for their wish; Barbicane and Nicholl were ob- 
 stinately plunged in their calculations, Michel going and 
 coming between the narrow walls, and watching that im- 
 passive moon with a longing eye. 
 
 At times recollections of the earth crossed their minds. 
 They saw once more their friends of the Gun Club, and 
 the dearest of all, J. T. Maston. At that moment, the 
 honorable secretary must be filling his post on the Kocky 
 Mountains. If he copld see the projectile through the 
 glass of his gigantic telescope, what would he think? 
 After seeing it disappear behind the moon's south pole, 
 he would see them reappear by the north pole! They 
 must therefore be a satellite of a satellite! Had J. T. 
 Maston given this unexpected news to the world? Was 
 this the denouement of this great enterprise? 
 
 But the day passed without incident. The terrestrial 
 midnight arrived. The 8th of December was beginning. 
 One hour more, and .the point of equal attraction would 
 be reached. What speed would then animate the projec- 
 tile? They could not estimate it. But no error could 
 vitiate Barbicane's calculations. At one in the morning 
 this speed ought to be and would be nil. 
 
 Besides, another phenomenon would mark the projec- 
 tile's stopping-point on the neutral line. At that spot 
 the two attractions, lunar and terrestrial, would be an- 
 nulled. Objects would "weigh" no more. This singular 
 fact, which had surprised Barbicane and his companions 
 so much in going, would be repeated on their return under 
 the very same conditions. At this precise moment they 
 must act. 
 
 Already the projectile's conical top was sensibly turned 
 toward the lunar disc, presented in such a way as to util- 
 ize the whole of the recoil produced by the pressure of 
 
312 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON: 
 
 the rocket apparatus. The chances were in favor of the 
 travelers. If its speed was utterly annulled on this dead 
 point, a decided movement toward the moon would sufiSce, 
 however slight, to determine its fall. 
 
 "Five minutes to one," said Nicholl. 
 
 "All is ready," replied Michel Ardan, directing a 
 lighted match to the flame of the gas. 
 
 "Wait!" said Barbicane, holding his chronometer in 
 his hand. 
 
 At that moment weight had no effect. The travelers 
 felt in themselves the entire disappearance of it. They 
 were very near the neutral point, if they did not touch it. 
 
 "One o'clock," said Barbicane. 
 
 Michel Ardan applied the lighted match to a train in 
 communication with the rockets. No detonation was 
 heard in the inside, for there was no air. But, through 
 the scuttles, Barbicane saw a prolonged smoke, the flames 
 of which were immediately extinguished. 
 
 The projectile sustained a certain shock, which was 
 sensibly felt in the interior. 
 
 , The three friends looked and listened without speaking, 
 and scarcely breathing. One might have heard the beat- 
 ing of their hearts amid this perfect silence. 
 
 "Are we falling?" asked Michel Ardan, at length. 
 
 "No," said Nicholl, "since the bottom of the projectile 
 is not turning to the lunar disc!" 
 
 At this moment, Barbicane, quitting the scuttle, turned 
 to his two companions. He was frightfully pale, his fore- 
 head wrinkled, and his lips contracted. 
 
 "We are falling!" said he. 
 
 "Ah!" cried Michel Ardan, "on to the moon?" 
 
 "On to the earth!" 
 
 "The devil!" exclaimed 'Michel Ardan, adding philo- 
 sophically, "well, when we came into this projectile we 
 were very doubtful as to the ease with which we should 
 get out of it!" 
 
A STRUaOLE AGAINST THE IMPOSSIBLE. 313 
 
 And now this- fearful fall had begun. The speed re- 
 tained had borne the projectile beyond the dead point. 
 The explosion of the rockets could not divert its course. 
 This speed in going had carried it over the neutral line, 
 and in returning had done the same thing. The laws of 
 physics condemned it to pass through every point which 
 it had already gone through. It was a terrible fall, from 
 a height of 160,000 miles, and no springs to break it. 
 According to the laws of gunnery, the projectile must 
 strike the earth with a speed equal to that with which it 
 left the month of the Columbiad, a speed of 16,000 yards 
 in the last second. 
 
 But to give some figures of comparison, it has been 
 reckoned that an object thrown from the top of the towers 
 of Notre Dame, the height of which is only 200 feet, will 
 arrive on the pavement at a speed of 340 miles per hour. 
 Here the projectile must strike the earth with a speed of 
 115,300 miles per hour. 
 
 "We are lost!" said Michel coolly. 
 
 "Very well! if we die," answered B^xbicane, with a 
 sort of religious enthusiasm, "the result of our travels 
 will be magnificently spread. It is His own secret that 
 God will tell us! In the other life the soul will want to 
 know nothing, either of machines or engines! It will be 
 iflentified with eternal, wisdom!" 
 
 "In fact," interrupted Michel Ardan, "the whole of 
 the other world may well console us for the loss of that 
 inferior orb called the moon!" 
 
 Barbicane crossed his arms on his breast, with a motion 
 of sublime resignation, saying at the same time: 
 
 "The will of heaven be done!" 
 
314 FBOM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 THE SOtJNDTNOS OF THE SUSQUBHANlfA. 
 
 "Well, lieutenant, and our soundings?" 
 
 "I think, sir, that the operation is nearing its comple- 
 tion," replied Lieutenant Bronsfleld. "But who would 
 have thought of finding such a depth so near in shore, 
 and only 200 miles from the American coast?" 
 
 "Certainly, Bronsfleld, there is a great depression," 
 said Captain Blomsberry. "In this spot there is a sub- 
 marine valley worn by Humboldt's current, which skirts 
 the coast of America as far as the Straits of Magellan." 
 
 "These great depths," continued the lieutenant, "are 
 not favorable for laying telegraphic cables. A level bot- 
 tom, like that supporting the American cable between 
 Valentia and Newfoundland, is much better." 
 
 "I agree with you, Bronsfleld. With your permission, 
 lieutenant, where are we now?" 
 
 "Sir^ at this moment we have 3,508 fathoms of line out, 
 and t^e ball which draws the sounding lead has not yet 
 touched the bottom; for if so, it would have come up of 
 itself." 
 
 "Brook's apparatus is very ingenious," said Captain 
 Blomsberry; "it gives us very exact soundings." 
 
 "Touch!" cried at this moment one of the men at the 
 forewheel, who was superintending the operation. 
 
 The captain and the lieutenant mounted the qnarteiv 
 deck. 
 
 "What depth have we?" asked the captain. 
 
 "Three thousand six hundred and twenty-seven fath- 
 
THM SOUNBIN&S of the SUSQUEHANNA. 315 
 
 oms," replied the lieutenant, enteiang it in his note- 
 book. 
 
 "Well, Bronsfield,"said the captain, "I will take down 
 the result. Now haul in the sounding line. It will h« 
 the work of some hours. In that time the engineer can 
 light the furnaces, and we shall he ready to start as soon 
 as you have finished. It is ten o'clock, and with yonr 
 permission, lieutenant, I will turn in." 
 
 ''Do so, sir; do so!-" replied the lieutenant obligingly. 
 
 The captain of the Susquehanna, as brave a man as 
 need be, and the humble servant of his oflScers, returned 
 to his cabin, took a brandy-grog, which earned for the 
 steward no end of praise, and turned in, not without hav- 
 ing complimented his servant upon his making beds, and 
 slept a peaceful sleep. 
 
 It was then ten at night. The eleventh day of the 
 month of December was drawing to a close in a magnifi- 
 cent night. 
 
 The Susquehanna, a corvette of 500 "horse-power, of 
 the United States navy, was occupied in taking soundings 
 in the Pacific Ocean about 200 miles off the American 
 coast, following that long peninsula which stretches down 
 the coast of Mexico. 
 
 The wind had^ dropped by degrees. There was no dis- 
 turbance in the air. The pennant hung motionless from 
 the maintop-gallant-mast truck. 
 
 Captain Jonathan Blorasberry (cousin-german of Colo- 
 nel Blouisberry, one of the most ardent supporters of the 
 Gun Club, who had married an aunt of the captain and 
 daughter of an honorable Kentucky merchant) — Captain 
 Blomsberry could not have wished for finer weather in 
 which to bring to a close his delicate operations of sound- 
 ing. His corvette had not even felt the great tempest, 
 which by sweeping away the groups of clouds on the Eocky 
 Mountains, had allowed them to observe the course of the 
 famous projectile. 
 
316 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOST. 
 
 Everything went well, and with all the fervor of a Pres- 
 byterian, he did not forget to thank heaven for it. The 
 series of soundings taken by the Susquelianna, had for its 
 aim the finding of a favorable spot for the laying of a sub- 
 marine cable to connect the "Hawaian Islands with the 
 coast of America. 
 
 It was a great undertaking, due to the instigation of a 
 powerful company. Its managing director, the intelligent 
 Cyrus Field, purposed even covering all the islands of 
 Oceanica with a vast electrical network, an immense en- 
 terprise, and one worthy of American genius. 
 
 To the corvette Susquehanna had been confided the 
 first operations of sounding. It was on the night of the 
 llth-13th of December, she was in exactly 27° 7' north 
 latitude, and 41° 37' west longitude, on the meridian of 
 Washington. ' 
 
 The moon, then in her last quarter, was beginning to 
 rise above the horizon. 
 
 After the departure of Captain Blomsberry, the lieu- 
 tenant and some officers were standing together on the 
 poop. On the appearance of the moon, their thoughts 
 turned to that orb which the eyes of a whole hemisphere 
 were contemplating. The best naval glasses could not 
 have discovered tlie projectile wandering around its hemi- 
 sphere, and yet all were pointed toward that brilliant disc 
 which millions of eyes were looking at at the same mo- 
 ment. 
 
 "They have been gone ten days," said Lieutenant 
 Bronsfield at last. "What has become of them?" 
 
 "They have arrived, lieutenant," exclaimed a young 
 midshipman, "and they are doing what all travelers do 
 wheti they arrive in a new country, taking a walk!" 
 
 ''Oh! I am sure of that, if you tell me so, my young 
 friend," said Lieutenant Bronsfield, smiling. 
 
 "But," continued another ofBcer, "their arrival cannot 
 
THB aOUNDINQS OF THE SUSQUEHANNA. 317 
 
 be doubted. The projectile was to reach the moon when 
 full on the 5th at midnight. We are now at the 11th of 
 December, which makes six days. And in six times 
 twenty-four hours, without darkness, one would have 
 time to settle comfortably. I fancy I see my brave coun- 
 trymen encamped at the bottom of some valley, on the 
 borders of a Selenite stream, near a projectile half-buried 
 by its fall amid volcanic rubbish. Captain NichoU begin- 
 ning his leveling operations. President Barbicane writing 
 out his notes, and Michel Ardau embalming the lunar 
 solitudes with the perfume of his " 
 
 "Yes! it must be so, it is so!" exclaimed the young 
 midshipman, worked up to a pitch of enthusiasm by this 
 ideal description of his superior officer. 
 
 "I should like to believe it," replied the lieutenant, 
 who was quite unmoved. "Unfortunately, direct news 
 from the lunar world isvstill wanting." 
 
 "Beg pardon, lieutenant," said the midshipman, "but 
 cannot President Barbicane write?" 
 
 A burst of laughter greeted this answer. 
 
 "No letters!" continued the young man quickly. "Th« 
 postal administration has something to see to there." 
 
 "Might it not be the telegraphic service that is at 
 fault?" asked one of the ofiQcers ironically. 
 
 "Not necessarily," replied the midshipman, not at all 
 confused. "But it is very easy to set up a graphic com< 
 munication with the earth." 
 
 "And how?" 
 
 "By means of the telescope at Long's Peak. You know 
 it brings the moon to within four miles of the Kocky 
 Mountains, and that it shows .objects on its surface of 
 only nine feet in diameter. Very well; let our industri- 
 ous friends construct a gigantic alphabet; let them write 
 words three fathoms long, and sentences three miles long, 
 and then they can send us news of themselves?" 
 
318 FROM TMb earth TO TB.E MOON. 
 
 The young midshipman, who had a certain amonnt of 
 imagination, was loudly applauded; Lieutenant Bronsfield 
 allowing that the idea was possible, but observing that if 
 by these means they could receive news from the lunar 
 world they could not send any from the terrestrial, unless 
 the Selenites had instruments fit for taking distant obser- 
 vations at their disposal. 
 
 '•Evidently," said one of the officers; "but what has 
 become of the travelers? what they have done, what they 
 have seen, that above all must interest as. Besides, if 
 the experiment has succeeded (which I do not doubt), they 
 will try it again! The Columbiad is still sunk in the soil 
 of Florida. It is now only a question of powder and shot; 
 and every time the moon is at her zenith a cargo of vis- 
 itors may be sent to her." 
 
 "It is clear," replied Lieutenant Bronsfield, "that 
 J. T. Maston will one day join his friends." 
 
 "If he will have me," cried the midshipman, "I am 
 ready!" 
 
 "Oh! volunteers will not be wanting," answered Brons- 
 field; "and if it were allowed, half of the earth's inhabit- 
 ants would emigrate to the moon!" 
 
 This conversation between the officers of the Susque- 
 hanna was kept up until nearly one in the morning. Wo 
 cannot say what blundering systems were broached, what 
 inconsistent theories advanced by these bold spirits. Since 
 Barbicane's attempt, nothing seemed impossible to the 
 Americans. They had already designed an expedition, 
 not only of savants, but of S whole colony toward the Sel- 
 enite borders, and a complete army, consisting of infantry, 
 artillery, and cavalry, to, conquer the lunar world. 
 
 At one in the morning, the hauling .in of the sounding- 
 line was not yet completed; 1,670 fathoms were still out, 
 which would entail some hours' work. According to the 
 commander's orders, th« fires had been lighted, and steam 
 
THE SOUNDINGS OF THE SUSQUEHANNA. 319 
 
 was being got up. The Susquehanna could have started 
 that very instant. 
 
 At that Hioment (it was seventeen minutes past one in 
 the morning) Lieutenant Bronsfield was preparing fco leave 
 the watch and return to bis cabin, when his attention was 
 attracted by a distant hissing noise. His comrades and 
 himself first thought that this hissing was caused by the 
 letting off of steam; but lifting their heads, they found 
 that the noise was produced in the highest regions of the 
 air. They had not time to question each other before the 
 hissing became frightfully intense, and suddenly there 
 appeared to their dazzled eyes an enormous meteor, ig- 
 nited by the rapidity of its course and its friction through 
 the atmospheric strata. 
 
 This fiery mass grew larger to their eyes, and fell, with 
 the noise of thunder, upon the bowsprit, which it smashed 
 close to the stem, and buried itself in the waves with a 
 deafening roar ! 
 
 A few feet nearer, and the Susquehanna would have 
 foundered with all on board ! 
 
 At this instant Captain Blomsberry appeared, half- 
 dressed, and rushing on to the forecastle-deck, whither 
 all the oflflcers had hurried, exclaimed, "With your per- 
 mission, gentlemen, what has happened?" 
 
 And the midshipman, making himself as it were the 
 echo of the body, cried, "Commander, it is 'they' come 
 back again!" 
 
330 ' FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 J. T. MASTON KBCALLED. 
 
 "It is 'they' come baok'again!" the young midshipman 
 had said, and every one had understood him. No one 
 doubted but that that meteor was the projectile of the 
 Gun Club. As to the travelers which it enclosed, opin- 
 ions were divided regarding their fate. 
 
 "They are dead!" said one. 
 
 "They are alive!" said another; "the crater is deep, 
 and the shock was deadened." 
 
 "But they must hare wanted air," continued a third 
 speaker; "they must have died of sufEocation. " 
 
 "Burned!" replied a fourth; "the projectile was noth- 
 ing but an iucandescent mass as it crossed the atmos- 
 phere." 
 
 "What does it matter!" they exclaimed unanimously; 
 "living or dead, we must pull them out!" 
 
 But Captain Blomsberry had assembled his oflBcers, 
 and "with their permission," was holding a council. 
 They must decide upon something to be done imme- 
 diately. The more hasty ones were for fishing up the 
 projectile. A difiScult operation, though not an impos- 
 sible one. But the corvette had no proper machinery, 
 which must be both fixed and powerful; so it was resolved 
 that they should put in at the nearest port, and give in- 
 formation to the Gun Club of the projectile's fall. 
 
 This determination was unanimous. The choice of the 
 port had to be discussed. The neighboring coast had no 
 anchorage on 37" latitude. Higher up, above the penin- 
 
J. T. MA8T0N RECALLED. 321 
 
 «nla of Monterey, stands the important town from which 
 it takes its name; but, seated on the borders of a perfect 
 desert, it was not connected with the interior by a net- 
 work of telegraphic wires, and electricity alone conld 
 spread these important, news fast enough. 
 
 Some degrees above opened the bay of San Erancisco. 
 Through the capital of the gold country communication 
 would be easy with the heart of the Union. And in less 
 than two days the Susquehanna, by putting on high 
 pressure, could arrive in that port. She must therefore 
 start at once. 
 
 The fires were made up; they could set off immediately. 
 Two thousand fathoms of line were still out, which Cap- 
 tain Blomsberry, not wishing to lose precious time in 
 hauling in, jesolved to cut. 
 
 "We will fasten the end to a buoy," said he, "and 
 that buoy will show us the exact spot where the projectile 
 fell." 
 
 "Besides," replied Lieutenant Bronsfield, "we have our 
 situation exact — 37° 7' north latitude and 41° 37' west 
 longitude." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Bronsfield," replied the captain, "now, 
 with your permission, we will have the line cut." 
 
 A strong buoy, strengthened by a couple of spars, was 
 thrown into the ocean. The end of the rope was care- 
 fully lashed to it; and, left solely to the rise and fall of 
 the billows, the buoy would not sensibly deviate from the 
 spot. 
 
 At this moment the engineer sent to inform the captain 
 that steam was up and they could start, for which agree- 
 able communication the captain thanked him. The 
 course was then given north-northeast, and the corvette, 
 wearing, steered at full steam direct for San Francisc6. 
 It was three in the morning. 
 
 Four hundred and fifty miles to cross; it was nothing 
 
322 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOOS'. 
 
 for a good vessel like the Susquehanna. In thirty-six 
 hours she had covered that distance; and on the 14th of 
 December, at twenty-seven minutes past one at night, 
 she entered the bay of San Francisco. 
 
 At the sight of a ship of the national navy arriving at 
 full speed, with her bowsprit broken, public curiosity was 
 greatly roused. A dense crowd soon assembled on the 
 quay, waiting for them to disembark. 
 
 After casting anchor, Captain Blomsberry and Lieuten- 
 ant Bronsfield entered an eight-oared cntter, which soon 
 brought them to land. 
 
 They jumped on to the quay. 
 
 "The telegraph?" they asked, without answering one 
 of the thousand questions addressed to them. 
 
 The officer of the port conducted them to the telegraph 
 oflBce through a concourse of spectators. Blomsberry and 
 Bronsfield entered, while the crowd crushed each other at 
 the door. 
 
 Some minutes later a fourfold telegram was sent out — 
 the first to the Naval Secretary at Washington; the second 
 to the vice-president of the Gun Club, Baltimore; the 
 third to the Hon. J. T. Maston, Long's Peak, Eocky 
 Mountains; the fourth to the sub-director of the Cam- 
 bridge Observatory, Massachusetts. 
 
 It was worded as follows: 
 
 "In 20° 7' north latitude, and 41° .37' west longitude, on 
 the 12th of December, at seventeen minutes past one in the 
 morning, the projectile of the Columbiad fell into the 
 Pacific. Send instructions. — Blomsbebey, Commander 
 Susquehanna." 
 
 Five minutes afterward the whole town of San Fran- 
 cisco learned the nfews. Before six in the evening the 
 different States of the Union had heard the great castas- 
 trophe; and after piidnight, by tt}§ Q^We, the wbole of 
 
J. T. MASTON RECALLED. 333 
 
 Europe knew the resnlt of the great American experiment. 
 We will not attempt to picture the efEect produced on 
 the entire world by that unexpected denouement. 
 
 On receipt of the telegram the Naval Secretary tele- 
 graphed to the Susquehanna to wait in the bay of San 
 Francisco without extinguishing her fires. Day and night 
 she must be ready to put to sea. 
 
 The Cambridge Observatory called a special meeting; 
 and, with that composure which distinguishes learned 
 bodies in general, peacefully discussed the scientific bear- 
 ings of the question. At the Gun Club there was an ex- 
 plosion. All the gunners Were assembled. Vice-President 
 the Hon. Wilcome was in the act of reading the prema- 
 ture dispatch, in which J. T. Maston and Belfast announced 
 that the projectile had just been seen in the gigantic re- 
 flector of Long's Peak, and also that it was held by lunar 
 attraction, and was playing the part of under satellite to 
 the lunar world. 
 
 We know the truth on that point. 
 
 But on the arrival of Blomsberry's dispatch, so decidedly 
 contradicting J. T. Maston's telegram, two parties were 
 formed in the bosom of the Gun Club. On one side were 
 those who admitted the fall of the projectile, and conse- 
 quently the return of the travelers; on the other, those 
 who believed in the observations of Long's Peak, concluded 
 that the commander of the Susquehanna had made a mis- 
 take. To the latter the pretended projectile was nothing 
 but a meteor! nothing but a meteor, a shooting globe, 
 which in its fall had smashed the bows of the corvette. 
 It was diflScnlt to answer this argument, for the speed 
 with which it was animated must have made observation 
 very difiBcult. The commander of the Susquehanna and 
 her oflficers might have made a mistake in all good faith; 
 one argument however, was in their favor, namely, that 
 if the projectile had fallen on the earthj its place of meet- 
 
334 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 ing with the terrestrial globe could only take place on this 
 27° north latitude, and (taking into consideration the 
 time that had elapsed, and the rotary motion of the earth) 
 between the 41° and the 42° of west longitude. In any 
 case, it was decided in the Gun Club that Blomsberry 
 brothers, Bilsby, and Major Elphinstone should go 
 straight to San Francisco, and consult as to the means of 
 raising the projectile from the depths of the ocean. 
 
 These devoted men set ofE at once; and the railroad, 
 which will soon cross the whole of Central America, took 
 them as far as St. Louis, where the swift, mail-coaches 
 awaited theiA. Almost at the same moment in which the 
 Secretary of Marine, the vice-president of the Gun Club, 
 and the sub-director of the Observatory received the dis- 
 patch from San Francisco, the Honorable J. T. Maston 
 was undergoing the greatest excitement he had ever expe- 
 rienced in l)is life, an excitement which even the bursting 
 of his pet gun, which had more than once nearly cost him 
 his life, had not caused him. We may remember that the 
 secretary of the Gun Club had started soon after the pro- 
 jectile (and almost as quickly) for the station on Long's 
 Peak, in the Rocky Mountains, J. Belfast, director of 
 the Cambridge Observatory, accompanying him. Arrived 
 there, the two friends had installed themselves at once, 
 never quitting the summit of their enormous telescope. 
 We know that this gigantic instrument had been set up 
 according to the reflecting system, called by the English 
 "front view." This arrangement subjected all objects to 
 but one reflection, making the view consequently much 
 clearer; the result was that, when they were taking obser- 
 vations, J. T. Maston and Belfast were placed in the 
 upper part of the instrument and not in the lower, which 
 they reached by a circular staircase, a masterpiece of light- 
 ness, while below them opened a metal well terminated 
 
J. T. MASTON BECALLED. 335 
 
 by the metallic mirror, which measured two hundred and 
 eighty feet in depth. 
 
 It was on a narrow platform placed aboTe the telescope 
 that the two savants passed their existence, execrating the 
 day which hid the moon from their eyes, and the clouds 
 which obstinately vejled her during the night. 
 
 What, then, was their delight when, after some days of 
 waiting, on the night of the 5th of December, they saw 
 the vehicle which was bearing their friends into space! 
 To this delight succeeded a great deception, when, trust' 
 ing to a cursory observation, they launched their first tel- 
 egram to the world, erroneously affirming that the pro- 
 jectile had become a satellite of the moon, gravitating in 
 an immutable orbit. 
 
 From that moment it had never shown itself to their 
 eyes — a disappearance all the more easily explained, as it 
 was then passing behind the moon's invisible disc; but 
 when it was time for it to reappear on the visible disc, 
 one may imagine "the impatience of the fuming J. T. 
 Maston and his not less impatient companion. Each min- 
 ute of the night they thought they saw the projectile once 
 more, and they did not see it. Hence constant discussions 
 and violent disputes between them, Belfast affirming that 
 the projectile could not be seen, J. T. Maston maintain- 
 ing that "it had put his eyes out." 
 
 "It is the projectile!" repeated J. T. Maston. 
 
 "No," answered Belfast; "it is an avalanche detached 
 from a lunar mountain." 
 
 "Well, we shall see it to-morrow." 
 
 "No, we shall not see it any more. It is carried into 
 space." 
 • "Yes!" 
 
 "No!" 
 ' And at these moments, when contradictions rained like 
 hail, the well-known irritability of the secretary of the Gun 
 
386 FROM TEE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 Club constituted a permanent danger for tlie Ilonorable 
 Belfast. The existence of these two together would soon 
 have become impossible; but an unforeseen event cut short 
 their everlasting discussions. 
 
 During the night, from the 14th to the 15th of Decem- 
 ber, the two irreconcilable friends were busy observing the 
 lunar disc, J. T. Maston abusing the learned Belfast as 
 usual, who was by his side; the secretary of the Gun Club 
 maintaining for the thousandth time that he had just 
 seen the projectile, and adding that he could see Michel 
 Ardan's face looking through one of the scuttles, at the 
 same time enforcing his argument by a series of gestures 
 which his formidable hook rendered very unpleasant. 
 
 At this moment Belfast's servant appeared on the plat- 
 form (it was ten at night) and gave him a dispatch. It 
 was the commander of the Susquehanna's telegram. 
 
 Belfast tore the envelope and read, and uttered a cry. 
 
 "What!" saiJ J. T. Maston. 
 
 "The projectile!" 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 "Has fallen to the earth!" 
 
 Another cry, this time a perfect howl, answered him'. 
 He turned toward J. T. Maston. The unfortunate man, 
 imprudently leaning over the metal tube, had disappeared 
 in the immense telescope. A fall of two hundred and 
 eighty feet! Belfast, dismayed, rushed to the orifice of 
 the reflector. 
 
 He breathed. J. T. Maston, caught by his metal hook, 
 was holding on by one of the rings which bound the tele- 
 scope together, uttering fearful cries. 
 
 Belfast called. Help was brought, tackle was let down, 
 and they hoisted up, not without some trouble, the im- 
 prudent secretary of the Gun Club. 
 
 He reappeared at the upper orifice without hurt. 
 
 'Ah !" said he, "if I had broken the mirror?" 
 
J. T. MA8T0N BECALLM). 327 
 
 "Yon would have paid for it," replied Belfast severely. 
 
 "And that cnrsed projectile has fallen?" asked J. T. 
 Maston. 
 
 "Into the Pacific!" 
 
 "Let us go!" 
 
 A quarter of an hour after the two savants were de- 
 scending the declivity of the Eocky Mountains; and two 
 days after, at the same time as their friends of the Gun 
 Club, they arrived at San Pranciscoj having killed five 
 horses on the road. 
 
 Elphinstone, the brothers Blomsberry; and Bilsby rushed 
 toward them on their arrival. 
 
 "What shall we do?" they exclaimed. 
 
 "Fish up the projectile," replied J. T. Maston, "and 
 the sooner the better." 
 
328 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 RECOVERED FROM THE SEA. 
 
 The spot where the projectile sank nnder the waves 
 was exactly known; but machinery to grasp it and bring 
 it to the surface of the ocean was still wanting. It must 
 first be invented, then made. American engineers- could 
 not be troubled with such trifles. The grappling-irons 
 once fixed, by their help they were sure to raise it in spite 
 of its weight, which was lessened by the density of the 
 liquid in which it was plunged. 
 
 But fishing-up the projectile was not the only thing to 
 be thought of. They must act promptly in the interest 
 of the travelers. No one doubted that they were still 
 living. 
 
 "Yes," repeated, J. T. Maston incessantly, whose confi- 
 dence gained over everybody, "our friends are clever peo- 
 ple, anS they cannot have fallen like simpletons. They 
 are alive, quite alive; but we must make haste if we wish 
 to find them so. Food and water do not trouble me; they 
 have enough for a long while. But air, air, that is what 
 they will soon want; so quick, quick!" 
 
 And they did go quick. They fitted up the Susque- 
 hanna for her new destination. Her powerful machinery 
 was brought to bear upon the hauling-chains. The alumin- 
 ium projectile only weighed 19,350 pounds, a weight very 
 inferior to that of the transatlantic cable which had been 
 drawn up under similar conditions. The only difficulty 
 was in fishing up a cylindro-conical projectile, the walls 
 of which were so smooth as to oSer no hold for the hooks. 
 
BECOVEBED FROM TEE SEA. 329 
 
 On that account Engineer Murdhlson hastened to San 
 Francisco, and had some enormous grappling-irons fixed 
 on an automatic system, which would never let the pro- 
 jectile go if it once succeeded in seizing it in its powerful 
 claws. Diving-dresses were also prepared, which through 
 this impervious covering allowed the divers t6 observe the 
 bottom of the sea. He also had put on board an appa- 
 ratus of compressed air very cleverly designed. There 
 were perfect chambers pierced with scuttles, which, with 
 water let into certain compartments, could draw it down 
 into great depths. These apparatuses were at San Fran- 
 cisco, where they had been used in the construction of a 
 submarine breakwater; and very fortunately it was so, for 
 there was no time to construct any. But in spite of the 
 perfection of the machinery, in spite of the ingenuity of 
 the savants entrusted with the use of them, the success of 
 the operation was far from being certain. How great 
 were the chances against them, the projectile being 20,- 
 000 feet under the water! And if even it was brought to 
 the surface, how would the travelers have borne the terri- 
 ble shock which 20,000 feet of water had perhaps not suf- 
 ficiently broken? At any rate they must act quickly. J. 
 T. Maston hurried the workmen day and night. He was 
 ifeady to don the divin'g-dress himself, or try the air appa- 
 ratus, in order to reconnoiter the situation of his coura- 
 geous friends. 
 
 But in spite of all diligence displayed in preparing the dif- 
 ferent engines, in spite of the considerable sum placed at 
 the disposal of the Gun Olub by the Government of the 
 Union,' five long days (five centuries!) elapsed before the 
 prepara1>ions were complete. During this time public 
 opinion was excited to the highest pitch. Telegraas 
 were exchanged incessantly throughout the entire, world 
 by means of wires and electric cables. The saving of 
 Barbicane, NichoU, and Michel Ardan was an interna- 
 
330 FROM THE EAMTS TO TMB MOON. 
 
 tional affair. Every one who had subscribed to the Gnu 
 Club was directly interested in the welfare of the travelers. 
 
 At length the hauling-chairs, the air-chambers, and the 
 automatic grappling-irons were put on board. J. T. Mas- 
 ton, Engineer Mnrchison, arid the delegates of the Gim' 
 Club, were already in their cabins. They had but to 
 start, which they did on the 21st of December, at eight 
 o'clock at night, the corvette meeting with a beautiful 
 sea, a northeasterly wind, and rather sharp cold. The 
 whole population of San Francisco was gathered on the 
 quay, greatly excited but silent, reserving their hurrahs 
 for the return. Steam was fully up, and the screw of the 
 Susquehanna carried them briskly out of the bay. 
 
 It is needless to relate the conversations on board be- 
 tween the officers, sailors, and passengers. All these men 
 had but one thought. All these hearts beat under the 
 same emotion. While they were hastening to help them, 
 what were Barbicane and his companions doing? What 
 had become of them? Were they able to attempt any 
 bold maneuver to regain their liberty? None could say. 
 The truth is that every attempt must have failed! Im- 
 mersed nearly four miles under the ocean, this metal 
 prison defied every effort of its prisoners. 
 
 On the 23d inst., at eight in the morning, after a rapid 
 passage, the Susquehanna was due at the fatal spot. They 
 must wait till twelve to take the reckoning exactly. The 
 buoy to which the sounding line had been lashed had not 
 yet been recognized. 
 
 At twelve, Captain Blomsberry, assisted by his officers 
 who superintended the observations, took the reckoning 
 In the presence of the delegates of the Gun Club. Then 
 there was a moment of anxiety. Her position decided, 
 the Susquehanna was found to be some minutes to west- 
 ward of the spot where the projectile had disappeared 
 beneath the' waves. 
 
BMGOVEBED FROM THE JSEA. 331 
 
 The ship's course was then changed so as to reach this 
 exact point. 
 
 At forty-scTen minutes past twelve they reached th« 
 buoy; it was in perfect condition, and must have shifted 
 but little. 
 
 "At last!" exclaimed J. T. Maston. 
 
 "Shall we begin?" asked Captain Blomsberry. i 
 
 , "Without losing a second." 
 
 Every precaution was taken to keep the corvette almost 
 completely motionless. Before trying to seize the projec- 
 tile, Engineer Murchison wanted to find its exact position 
 at the bottom of the ocean. The submarine apparatus 
 destined foj; this expedition was supplied with air. The 
 working of these engines was not without danger, for at 
 20,000 foet below the surface of the water, and under 
 such' great pressure, they were exposed to fracture, the 
 consequences of which would be dreadful. 
 
 J. T. Maston, the brothers Blomsberry, and Engineer 
 Murchison, without heeding these dangers, took their 
 places in the air-chamber. The commander, posted on 
 his bridge, superintended the operation, ready to stop or 
 haul in the chains on the slightest signal. The screw had 
 been shipped, and the whole power of the machinery col- 
 lected on the capstan would have quickly drawn the appa- 
 ratus on board. The descent began at twenty-five min- 
 utes past one at night, and the chamber, drawn under by 
 the reservoirs full of water, disappeared from the surface 
 of the ocean. 
 
 The emotion of the oflBcers and sailors on board was 
 now divided between the prisoners in the projectile and 
 the prisoners in the submarine apparatus. As to the lat- 
 ter, they forgot themselves, and, glued to the windows of 
 the scuttles, attentively watched the liquid mass through 
 which they were passing. 
 . The descent was rapid, At seveq^^en winutei past 
 
332 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOOF. 
 
 two, J. r. Maston and his companions had reached the 
 bottofli of the Pacific; but they saw nothing but an arid 
 desert, no longer animated by either fauna or flora. By 
 the light of their lamps, furnished with powerful reflec- 
 tors, they could see the dark beds of the ocean for a con- 
 siderable extent of view, but the projectile was nowhere 
 to be seen. 
 
 The impatience of these bold divers cannot be described, 
 and having an ele( trical communication with the corvette, 
 they made a signal already agreed upon, and for the space 
 of a mile the Susquehanna moved their chamber along 
 some yards above the bottom. 
 
 Thus they explored the whole submarine plain, deceived 
 at every turn by optica! illusions which almost broke their 
 hearts. Here a rock, there a projection from the ground, 
 seemed to be the much-sought-for projectile; but their 
 mistake was soon discovered, and then they were in de- 
 spair. 
 
 "But where are they? where are they?" cried J. T. 
 Maston. And the poor man called loudly upon Nicholl, 
 Barbicane, and Michel Ardan, as if his unfortunate friends 
 could either hear or answer him through such an impen- 
 etrable medium! The search continued under these con- 
 ditions until the vitiated air compelled the divers to ascend. 
 
 The hauling in began about six in the evening, and was 
 not ended before midnight. 
 
 "To-morrow," said J. T. Maston, as he set foot on the 
 bridge of the corvette. 
 
 "Yes," answered Captain Blomsberry. 
 
 "And on another spot?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 J. T. Maston did not doubt of their final success, but 
 his companions, no longer upheld by the excitement of 
 the first hours, understood all the difficulty of the enter- 
 prise. What seemed easy at San Francisco, -seemed here 
 
REGOVEBED PROM THE SEA. 333 
 
 in the wide ocean almost impossible. The chances of suc- 
 cess diminished in rapid proportion; and it was from 
 chance alone that the meeting with the projectile might 
 be expected; 
 
 The next day, the 24th, in spite of the fatigue of the 
 previous day, the operation was renewed. The corvette 
 advanced some minutes to westward, and the apparatus, 
 provided with air, bore the same explorers to the depths 
 of the ocean. 
 
 The whole day passed in fruitless research; the bed of 
 the sea was a desert. The 25th brought no other result, 
 nor the 26th. 
 
 It was disheartening. They thought of those unfortu- 
 nates shut up in the projectile for twenty-six days. Per- 
 haps at that moment they were experiencing the first 
 approach of suffocation ; that is, if they had escaped the 
 dangers of their fall. The air was spent, and doubtless 
 with the air all their morale. 
 
 "The air, possibly," answered J. T. Maston resolutely, 
 "but their morale never!" 
 
 On the 28th, after two more days of search, all hope 
 was gone. This projectile was but an atom in the im- 
 mensity of the ocean. They must give up all idea of 
 finding it. 
 
 But J. T. Maston would not hear of going away. He 
 would not abandon the place without at least discovering 
 the tomb of his friends. But Commander Blomsberry 
 could no longer persist, and in spite of the exclamations 
 of the worthy secretary, was obliged ta give the order to 
 sail. 
 
 On the 29th of December, at nine a.m., the Snsque- 
 hanna, heading northeast, resumed her course to the bay 
 of San Francisco. 
 
 It was ten in the morning; the corvette was under half- 
 steam, as if regretting to leave the spot where the catas- 
 
334 FROM TEE EARTH TO TEE MOON. 
 
 trophe had taken place, when a sailor, perched on the 
 maintop-gallant crosstrees, watching the sea, cried sud- 
 denly : 
 
 "A buoy on the lee bow!" 
 
 The ofiBcers looked in the direction indicated, and by 
 the help of their glasses saw that the object signalled had 
 the appearance of one of those bnoys which are used to 
 mark the passages of bays or rivers. But, singularly to 
 say, a flag floating on the wind surmounted its cone, which 
 emerged five or six feet out of water. This buoy shone 
 under the rays of the sun as if it had been made of plates 
 of silver. Commander Blomsberry, J. T. Maston, and 
 the delegates of the Gun Club were mounted on the 
 bridge, examining this object straying at random on the 
 waves. 
 
 All looked with feverish anxiety, but in sileace. None 
 dared give expression to the thoughts which came to the 
 minds of all. 
 
 The corvette approached to within two cables' lengths 
 of the object. 
 
 A shudder ran through the whole crew. That flag was 
 the American flag! 
 
 At this moment a perfect howling was heard ; it was 
 the brave J. T. Maston, who had just fallen all in a heap. 
 Forgetting on the one hand that his right arm had been 
 replaced by an iron hook, and on the other that a simple 
 gutta-percha cap covered his brain-box, he had given him- 
 self a formidable blow. 
 
 They hurried toward him, picked him up, restored him 
 to life. And what were his first words? 
 
 "Ah! trebly brutes ! quadrnply idiots! qnintaply boobies 
 that we are!" , 
 
 "What is it?" exclaimed ©very one around him, 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Come, spealfl" 
 
BEaOVEBED FBOM THE SEA. 335 
 
 "It is, simpletons," howled the terrible secretary, "it 
 is that the projectile only weighs 19,250 pounds!" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "And that it displaces twenty-eight tons, or in other 
 words 56,000 pounds, and that fconsequently it floats!" 
 
 Ah! what stress the worthy man laid on the verb 
 "float!" And it was true! All, yes! all these savants 
 had forgotten this fundamental law, namely, that on ac- 
 count of its specific lightness, the projectile, after having 
 been drawn by its fall to the greatest depths of the ocean, 
 must naturally return to the surface. And now it was 
 floating quietly at the mercy of the waves. 
 
 The boats were put to sea. J. T. Maston and his 
 friends had rushed into them! Excitement was at its 
 height! Every heart beat loudly while they advanced to 
 the projectile. What did it contain? Living or dead? 
 
 Living, yes! living, at least unless death had struck 
 Barbicane and his two friends since they had hoisted the 
 flag. Profound silence reigned on the boats. All were 
 breathless. Eyes no longer saw. One of the scuttles of 
 the projectile was open. Some pieces of glass remained 
 in the frame, showing that it had been broken. This 
 scuttle was actually five feet above the water. 
 
 A boat came alongside, that of J. T. Maston, and J. 
 T. Maston rushed to the broken window. 
 
 At that moment they heard a clear and merry voice, 
 the voice of Michel Ardan, exclaiming in an accent of 
 triumph : 
 
 "White all, Barbicane, white all!" 
 
 Barbicane, Michel Ardan, and Nicholl were playing at 
 dominoes! 
 
336 FROM THE EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 ( 
 
 THE END. 
 
 We may remember the intense sympathy which bad ac- 
 companied the travelers on their departure. If at the be- 
 ginning of the enterprise they had excited snch emotion 
 both in the old and new world, with what enthusiasm 
 would they be received on their return! The millions of 
 spectators which had beset the peninsula of Florida, would 
 they not rush to meet these sublime adventurers? Those 
 legions of strangers, hurrying from all parts of the globe 
 toward the American shores, would they leave the Union 
 without having seen Barbicane, NichoU, and Michel Ar- 
 dan? No! and the ardent passion of the public was bound 
 to respond worthily to the greatness of the enterprise. 
 Human creatures who had left the terrestrial sphere, and 
 returned after this strange voyage into celestial space, 
 could not fail to be received as the prophet Elias would 
 be if he came back to earth. To see them first, and then 
 to hear them, such was the universal longing. 
 
 Barbicane, Michel Ardan, Nicholl, and the delegates of 
 the Gun Club, returning without delay to Baltimore, were 
 received with indescribable enthusiasm. The notes of 
 President Barbicane's voyage were ready to be given to 
 the public. The New York Herald bought the manu- 
 script at a price not yet known, but which must have 
 been very high. Indeed, during the publication of "A 
 Journey to the Moon," the sale of this paper amounted 
 to five millions of copies. Three days after the return of 
 the travelers to the earth, the slightest detail of their ezpe- 
 
TEE END. 337 
 
 ditioD was known. There remained nothing more bnt to 
 see the heroes of this superhuman enterprise. 
 
 The expedition of Barbicane and his friends round the 
 moon had enabled them to correct the many admitted 
 theories regarding the terrestrial satellite. These savants 
 had observed de visu, and under particular circumstances. 
 They knew what systems should be rejected, what retained 
 with regard to the formation of that orb, its origin, its 
 habitability. Its past, present, and future had even given 
 up their last secrets. Who could advance objections 
 against conscientious observers, who at less than twenty- 
 fonr miles distance had marked that curious mountain of 
 Tycho, the strangest system of lunar orography? How 
 answer those savants whose sight had penetrated the abyss 
 of Pluto's circle? How contradict those bold ones whom 
 the chances of their enterprise had borne over that invisi- 
 ble face of the disc, which no human eye until then had 
 ever seen? It was now their turn to impose some limit 
 on that selenographic science, which had reconstructed 
 the lunar world as Cuvier did the skeleton of a fossil, and 
 say, "The moon was this, a habitable world, inhabited 
 before the earth! The moon is that, a world uninhabita- 
 ble, and now uninhabited." 
 
 To celebrate the return of its most illustrious member 
 and his two companions, the Gun Club decided upon giv- 
 ing a banquet, but a banquet worthy of the conquerors, 
 worthy of the American people, and under such condi- 
 tions that all the inhabitaijts of the Union could directly 
 take part in it. 
 
 All the head lines of railroads in the States were joined 
 by flying rails; and on all the platforms, lined with the 
 same flags, and decorated with the same ornaments, were 
 tables laid and all served alike. At certain hours, suc- 
 cessively calculated, marked by electric clocks which beat 
 the seconds at the same time, the population were invited 
 
338 FROM THh EARTH TO THE MOON. 
 
 to take their place at the banquet tables. For fonr days, 
 from the 5th to the 9th of January, the trains were stopped 
 as they are on Sundays on the railways of the United 
 States, and every road was open. One engine only at full 
 speed, drawing a triumphal carriage, had the right of 
 traveling for those four days on the railroads of the United 
 States. 
 
 The engine was manned by a driver and a stoker, and 
 bore, by special favor, the Hon. J. T. Maston, secretary 
 of the Gun Club. The carriage was reserved for Presi- 
 dent Barbicane, Colonel Nicholl, and Michel Ardan. At 
 the whistle of the driver, amid the hurrahs, and all the 
 admiring vociferations of the American language, the 
 train left the platform of Baltimore. It traveled at a 
 speed of one hundred and sixty miles in the hour. But 
 what was this speed compared with that which bad carried 
 the three heroes from the mouth of the Colnmbiad? 
 
 Thus they sped from one town to the other, finding 
 whole populations at table on their road, saluting them 
 with the same acclamations, lavishing the same bravos! 
 They traveled in this way through the east of the Union, 
 Pennsylvania, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Vermont, 
 Maine, and New Hampshire; the north and the west by 
 New York, Ohio, Michigan, and Wisconsin; returning to 
 the south by Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, Texas, and 
 Louisiana; they went to the southeast by Alabama and 
 Florida, going up by Georgia and the Carolinas, visiting 
 the center by Tennessee, Kentucky, Virginia, and Indi- 
 ana, and, after quitting the Washington station, re-entered 
 Baltimore, where for four days one would have thought 
 that the United States of America were seated at one im- 
 mense banquet, saluting them simultaneously with the 
 same hurrahs! The apotheosis was worthy of these throe 
 heroes whom fable would have placed iu the rank of demi- 
 gods. 
 
THE END. 339 
 
 And now will this attempt, unprecedented in the annals 
 of travels, lead to any practical result ? Will direct com- 
 munication with the moon ever be established ? Will they 
 ever lay the foundation of a traveling service through the 
 solar world ? Will they go from one planet to another, 
 from Jupiter to Mercury, and after awhile from one star 
 to another, from the Polar to Sirius ? Will this means of 
 locomotion allow us to visit those suns which swarm in 
 the firmament ? 
 
 To such questions no answer can be given. But know- 
 ing the bold ingenuity of the Anglo-Saxon race, no one 
 would be astonished if the Americans seek to make some 
 use of President Bavbicane's attempt. 
 
 Thus, some time after the return of the travelers, the 
 public received with marked favor the announcement of 
 a company, limited, with a capital of a hundred million 
 of dollars, divided into a hundred thousand shares of a 
 thousand dollars each, under the name of the "National 
 Company of Interstellary Communication." President 
 Barbicane ; vice-president, Captain Nicholl; secretary, J. 
 T. Maston ; director of movements, Michel Ardan. 
 
 And as it is part of the American temperament \o fore- 
 see everything iii business, even failure, the Honorable 
 Harry Trolloppe, judge commissioner, and Francis Dray- 
 ton, magistrate, were nominated beforehand I * 
 
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 Abie Constantin. By Halevy. 
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 Addison's Essays. By Joseph Addison. 
 f JSneid of Virgil, 
 ^sop's Fables. 
 Alexander, the Great, Life of. By 
 
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 Alfred, the Great, Life of. By 
 
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 Alhambra, The. Washington Irving. 
 Alice in Wonderland. Lewis Carroll. 
 All Sorts and Conditions of Men. 
 
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 Amiel's Journal. 
 Andersen's Fairy Tales. 
 Anne of Geirstein. Sir Walter Scott. 
 Antiquary, The. Sir Walter Scott. 
 Arabian Nights' Entertainments. 
 Ardath. By Marie Corelli. 
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 Arnold's Poems. Matthew Arnold. 
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 Sunbeam. By Mrs. Brassey. 
 Arundel Motto. Mary Cecil Hay. 
 At the Back of the North Wind. By 
 
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 Attic Philosopher. Emile Souvestre. 
 Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. By 
 
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 Barrack Room Ballads. By Rudyard 
 
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 Beulah. By Augusta J. Evans. 
 Black Beauty, By Anna S'ewell. 
 Black Dwarf, The. Sir Walter Scott 
 Black Rock. By Ralph Connor. 
 Black Tulip, The. By Alex. Dumas. 
 Bleak House. By Charles Dickens. 
 Blithedale Romance, The. By Na- 
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 Bondsman, The. By Hall Caine. 
 Book of Golden Deeds. By Charlotte 
 
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 Boone, Daniel, Life of. By Cecil B. 
 
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 Bride of Lammermoor. By Sir Walter 
 
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 Browning's Poems. (Elizabeth.) 
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 Burgomasters' Wife. George Ebers. 
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 By Order of the King. By Hugo. 
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 Caesar, Julius, Life of. By James 
 
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 Cast Up by the Sea, Sir S, Baker. 
 Charles Auchester, By E. Berger, 
 Character. By Samuel Smiles. 
 Charlemagne (Charles the Great), 
 
 Life of. By Thomas Hodgkin. 
 Charles CMalley. By Charles Lever, 
 Chesterfield's Letters. By Lord 
 
 Chesterfield, 
 Chevalier de Maison Rouge. By Al- 
 exander Dumas. 
 Children of the Abbey. By Regina 
 
 Maria Roche, 
 Chicot the Jester, By Alex. Dumas. 
 Child's History of England. By 
 
 Charles Dickens. 
 Christmas Stories. Charles Dickens. 
 Cloister and the Hearth. By Charles 
 
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