PART II

93

CHAPTER ONE

June, 1801—a mirage of an unknown city. It was seen, for more than an hour, at Youghal, Co. Cork, Ireland—a representation of mansions, surrounded by shrubbery and white palings—forests behind. In October, 1796, a mirage of a walled town had been seen distinctly for half an hour at Youghal. Upon March 9, 1797, had been seen a mirage of a walled town.

Feb. 7, 1802—an unknown body that was seen, by Fritsch, of Magdeburg, to cross the sun (Observatory, 3-136).

Oct. 10, 1802—an unknown dark body was seen, by Fritsch, rapidly crossing the sun (Comptes Rendus, 83-587).

Between 10 and 11 o’clock, morning of Oct. 8, 1803, a stone fell from the sky, at the town of Apt, France. About eight hours later, “some persons believed that they felt an earthquake” (Rept. B. A., 1854-53).

Upon August 11, 1805, an explosive sound was heard at East Haddam, Connecticut. There are records of six prior sounds, as if of explosions, that were heard at East Haddam, beginning with the year 1791, but, unrecorded, the sounds had attracted attention for a century, and had been called the “Moodus” sounds, by the Indians. For the best account of the “Moodus” sounds, see the Amer. Jour. Sci., 39-339. Here a writer tries to show the phenomena were subterranean, but says that there was no satisfactory explanation.

Upon the 2nd of April, 1808, over the town of Pignerol, Piedmont, Italy, a loud sound was heard: in many places in Piedmont an earthquake was felt. In the Rept. B. A., 1854-68, it is said that aërial phenomena did occur; that, before the explosion, luminous objects had been seen in the sky over Pignerol, and that in several of the communes in the Alps aërial sounds, as if of innumerable stones colliding, had been heard, and that quakes had been felt. From April 2 to April 8, forty shocks 94were recorded at Pignerol; sounds like cannonading were heard at Barga. Upon the 18th of April, two detonations were heard at La Tour, and a luminous object was seen in the sky. The supposition, or almost absolute belief of most persons is that from the 2nd to the 18th of April, this earth had moved far in its orbit, and was rotating so that, if one should explain that probably meteors had exploded here, it could not very well be thought that more meteors were continuing to pick out this one point upon a doubly moving planet. But something was specially related to this one local sky. Upon the 19th of April, a stone fell from the sky, at Borgo San Donnino, about 40 miles east of Piedmont (Rept. B. A., 1860). Sounds like cannonading were heard almost every day in this small region. Upon the 13th of May, a red cloud such as marks the place of a meteoric explosion was seen in the sky. Throughout the rest of the year, phenomena that are now listed as “earthquakes” occurred in Piedmont. The last occurrence of which I have record was upon Jan. 22, 1810.

Feb. 9, 1812—two explosive sounds at East Haddam (Amer. Jour. Sci., 39-339).

July 5, 1812—one explosive sound at East Haddam (Amer. Jour. Sci., 39-339).

Oct. 28, 1812—“phantom soldiers” at Havarah Park, near Ripley, England (Edinburgh Annual Register, 1812-II-124). When such appearances are explained by meteorologists, they are said to be displays of the aurora borealis. Psychic research explains variously. The physicists say that they are mirages of troops marching somewhere at a distance.

Night of July 31, 1813—flashes of light in the sky of Tottenham, near London (Year Book of Facts, 1853-272). The sky was clear. The flashes were attributed to a storm at Hastings, 65 miles away. We note not only that the planet Mars was in opposition at this time (July 30), but in one of the nearest of its oppositions in the 19th century.

Dec. 28, 1813—an explosive sound at East Haddam.

Feb. 2, 1816—a quake at Lisbon. There was something in the sky. Extraordinary sounds were heard, but were attributed to “flocks of birds.” But six hours later something was seen in the sky: it is said to have been a meteor (Rept. B. A., 1854-106).

95Since the year 1788, many earthquakes, or concussions that were listed as earthquakes, had occurred at the town of Comrie, Perthshire, Scotland. Seventeen instances were recorded in the year 1795. Almost all records of the phenomena of Comrie start with the year 1788, but, in Macara’s Guide to Creiff, it is said that the disturbances were recorded as far back as the year 1597. They were slight shocks, and until the occurrence upon August 13, 1816, conventional explanations, excluding all thought of relations with anything in the sky, seemed adequate enough. But, in an account in the London Times, Aug. 21, 1816, it is said that, at the time of the quake of Aug. 13, a luminous object, or a “small meteor” had been seen at Dunkeld, near Comrie; and, according to David Milne (Edin. New Phil. Jour., 31-110) a resident of Comrie had reported “a large luminous body, bent like a crescent, which stretched itself over the heavens.”

There was another quake in Scotland (Inverness) June 30, 1817. It is said that hot water fell from the sky (Rept. B. A., 1854-112).

Jan. 6, 1818—an unknown body that crossed the sun, according to Loft, of Ipswich; observed about three hours and a half (Quar. Jour. Roy. Inst., 5-117).

Five unknown bodies that were seen, upon June 26, 1819, crossing the sun, according to Gruithuisen (An. Sci. Disc., 1860-411). Also, upon this day, Pastorff saw something that he thought was a comet, which was then somewhere near the sun, but which, according to Olbers, could not have been the comet (Webb, Celestial Objects, p. 40).

Upon Aug. 28, 1819, there was a violent quake at Irkutsk, Siberia. There had been two shocks upon Aug. 22, 1813 (Rept. B. A., 1854-101). Upon April 6, 1805, or March 25, according to the Russian calendar, two stones had fallen from the sky at Irkutsk (Rept. B. A., 1860-12). One of these stones is now in the South Kensington Museum, London. Another violent shock at Irkutsk, April 7, 1820 (Rept. B. A., 1854-128).

Unknown bodies in the sky, in the year 1820, Feb. 12 and April 27 (Comptes Rendus, 83-314).

Things that marched in the sky—see Arago’s Œuvres, 11-576, or Annales de Chimie, 30-417—objects that were seen by many 96persons, in the streets of Embrun, during the eclipse of Sept. 7, 1820, moving in straight lines, turning and retracing in the same straight lines, all of them separated by uniform spaces.

Early in the year 1821—and a light shone out on the moon—a bright point of light in the lunar crater Aristarchus, which was in the dark at the time. It was seen, upon the 4th and the 7th of February, by Capt. Kater (An. Reg., 1821-689); and upon the 5th by Dr. Olbers (Mems. R. A. S., 1-159). It was a light like a star, and was seen again, May 4th and 6th, by the Rev. M. Ward and by Francis Bailey (Mems. R. A. S., 1-159). At Cape Town, nights of Nov. 28th and 29th, 1821, again a star-like light was seen upon the moon (Phil. Trans., 112-237).

Quar. Jour. Roy. Inst., 20-417:

That, early in the morning of March 20, 1822, detonations were heard at Melida, an island in the Adriatic. All day, at intervals, the sounds were heard. They were like cannonading, and it was supposed that they came from a vessel, or from Turkish artillery, practicing in some frontier village. For thirty days the detonations continued, sometimes thirty or forty, sometimes several hundred, a day.

Upon April 13, 1822, it seems, according to description, that clearly enough was there an explosion in the sky of Comrie, and a concussion of the ground—“two loud reports, one apparently over our heads, and the other, which followed immediately, under our feet” (Edin. New Phil. Jour., 31-119).

July 15, 1822—the fall of perhaps unknown seeds from perhaps an unknown world—a great quantity of little round seeds that fell from the sky, at Marienwerder, Germany. They were unknown to the inhabitants, who tried to cook them, but found that boiling seemed to have no effect upon them. Wherever they came from, they were brought down by a storm, and two days later, more of them fell, in a storm, in Silesia. It is said that these corpuscles were identified by some scientists as seeds of Galium spurium, but that other scientists disagreed. Later more of them fell at Posen, Mecklenburg. See Bull. des Sci. (math., astro., etc.) 1-1-298.

Aug. 19, 1822—a tremendous detonation at Melida—others continuing several days.

97Oct. 23, 1822—two unknown dark bodies crossing the sun; observed by Pastorff (An. Sci. Disc., 1860-411).

An unknown, shining thing—it was seen, by Webb, May 22, 1823, near the planet Venus (Nature, 14-195).

More unknowns, in the year 1823—see Comptes Rendus, 49-811 and Webb’s Celestial Objects, p. 43.

Feb., 1824—the sounds of Melida.

Upon Feb. 11, 1824, a slight shock was felt at Irkutsk, Siberia (Rept. B. A., 1854-124). Upon Feb. 18, or, according to other accounts, upon May 14, a stone that weighed five pounds, fell from the sky at Irkutsk (Rept. B. A., 1860-70). Three severe shocks at Irkutsk, March 8, 1824 (Rept. B. A., 1854-124).

Sept., 1824—the sounds of Melida.

At five o’clock, morning of Oct. 20, 1824, a light was seen upon the dark part of the moon, by Gruithuisen. It disappeared. Six minutes later it appeared again, disappeared again, and then flashed intermittently, until 5.30 A. M., when sunrise ended the observations (Sci. Amer. Sup., 7-2712). And, upon Jan. 22, 1825, again shone out the star-like light of Aristarchus, reported by the Rev. J. B. Emmett (Annals of Philosophy, 28-338).

The last sounds of Melida of which I have record, were heard in March, 1825. If these detonations did come from the sky, there was something that, for at least three years, was situated over, or was in some other way specially related to, this one small part of this earth’s surface, subversively to all supposed principles of astronomy and geodesy. It is said that, to find out whether the sounds did come from the sky, or not, the Prêteur of Melida went into underground caverns to listen. It is said that there the sounds could not be heard.

98

CHAPTER TWO

And our own underground investigations—and whether there is something in the sky or not. We are in a hole in time. Cavern of Conventional Science—walls that are dogmas, from which drips ancient wisdom in a patter of slimy opinions—but we have heard a storm of data outside—

Of beings that march in the sky, and of a beacon on the moon—another dark body crosses the sun. Somewhere near Melida there is cannonading, and another stone falls from the sky, at Irkutsk, Siberia; and unknown grain falls from an unknown world, and there are flashes in the sky when the planet Mars is near.

In a farrago of lights and sounds and forms, I feel the presence of possible classifications that may thread a pattern of attempt to find out something. My attention is attracted by a streak of events that is beaded with little star-like points of light. First we shall find out what we can, as to the moon.

In one of the numbers of the Observatory, an eminent authority, in some fields of research, is quoted as to the probable distance of the moon. According to his determinations, the moon is 37 miles away. He explains most reasonably: he is Mr. G. B. Shaw. But by conventional doctrine, the moon is 240,000 miles away. My own idea is that somewhere between determinations by a Shaw and determinations by a Newcomb, we could find many acceptances.

I prefer questionable determinations, myself, or at any rate examinations that end up with questions or considerable latitude. It may be that as to the volcanoes of the moon we can find material for at least a seemingly intelligent question, if no statements are possible as to the size and the distance of the moon. The larger volcanoes of this earth are about three miles in diameter, though the craters of Haleakla, Hawaii, and Aso San, Japan, are seven 99miles across. But the larger volcanoes of the relatively little moon are said to be sixty miles across, though several are said to be twice that size. And I start off with just about the impression of disproportionality that I should have, if someone should tell me of a pigmy with ears five feet long.

Is there any somewhat good reason for thinking that the volcanic craters of the little moon are larger than, or particularly different in any other way from, the craters of this earth?

If not, we have a direct unit of measurement, according to which the moon is not 2160, but about 100, miles in diameter.

How far away does one suppose to be an object with something like that diameter, and of the seeming size of the moon?

The astronomers explain. They argue that gravitation must be less powerful upon the moon than upon this earth, and that therefore larger volcanic formations could have been cast up on the moon. We explain. We argue that volcanic force must be less powerful upon the moon than upon this earth, and that therefore larger volcanic formations could not have been cast up on the moon.

The disproportionality that has impressed me has offended more conventional æsthetics than mine. Prof. See, for instance, has tried to explain that the lunar formations are not craters but are effects of bombardment by vast meteors, which spared this earth, for some reason not made clear. Viscid moon—meteor pops in—up splash walls and a central cone. If Prof. See will jump in swimming some day, and then go back some weeks later to see how big a splash he made, he will have other ideas upon such supposed persistences. The moon would have to have been virtually liquid to fit his theory, because there are no partly embedded, vast, round meteors protruding anywhere.

There have been lights like signals upon the moon. There are two conventional explanations: reflected sunlight and volcanic action. Of course, ultra-conventionalists do not admit that in our own times there has been even volcanic action upon the moon. Our instances will be of lights upon the dark part of the moon, and there are good reasons for thinking that our data do not relate to volcanic action. In volcanic eruptions upon this earth the glow is so accompanied by great volumes of smoke that a clear, 100definite point of light would seem not to be the appearance from a distance.

For Webb’s account of a brilliant display of minute dots and streaks of light, in the Mare Crisium, July 4, 1832, see Astro. Reg., 20-165. I have records of half a dozen similar illuminations here, in about 120 years, all of them when the Mare Crisium was in darkness. There can be no commonplace explanation for such spectacles, or they would have occurred oftener; nevertheless the Mare Crisium is a wide, open region, and at times there may have been uncommon percolations of sunlight, and I shall list no more of these interesting events that seem to me to have been like carnivals upon the moon.

Dec. 22, 1835—the star-like light in Aristarchus—reported by Francis Bailey—see Proctor’s Myths and Marvels, p. 329.

Feb. 13, 1836—in the western crater of Messier—according to Gruithuisen (Sci. Amer. Sup., 7-2629)—two straight lines of light; between them a dark band that was covered with luminous points.

Upon the nights of March 18 and 19, 1847, large luminous spots were seen upon the dark part of the moon, and a general glow upon the upper limb, by the Rev. T. Rankin and Prof. Chevalier (Rept. B. A., 1847-18). The whole shaded part of the disc seemed to be a mixture of lights and shades. Upon the night of the 19th, there was a similar appearance upon this earth, an aurora, according to the London newspapers. It looks as if both the moon and this earth were affected by the same illumination, said to have been auroral. I offer this occurrence as indication that the moon is nearby, if moon and earth could be so affected in common.

But by signalling, I mean something like the appearance that was seen, by Hodgson, upon the dark part of the moon, night of Dec. 11, 1847—a bright light that flashed intermittently. Upon the next night it was seen again (Monthly Notices R. A. S., 8-55).

The oppositions of Mars occur once in about two years and two months. In conventional terms, the eccentricity of the orbit of Mars is greater than the eccentricity of the orbit of this earth, 101and the part of its orbit that is traversed by this earth in August is nearest the orbit of Mars. When this earth is between Mars and the sun, Mars is said to be in opposition, and this is the position of nearest approach: when opposition occurs in August, that is the most favorable opposition. After that, every two years and about two months, the oppositions are less favorable, until the least favorable of all, in February, after which favorableness increases up to the climacteric opposition in August again. This is a cycle of changing proximities within a period of about fifteen years.

In October, 1862, Lockyer saw a spot like a long train of clouds on Mars, and several days later Secchi saw a spot on Mars. And if that were signalling, it is very meagre material upon which to suppose anything. And May 8-22, 1873—white spots on Mars. But, upon June 17, 1873, two months after nearest approach, but still in the period of opposition of Mars, there was either an extraordinary occurrence, or the extraordinariness is in our interpretation. See Rept. B. A., 1874-272. A luminous object came to this earth, and was seen and heard upon the night of June 17, 1873, to explode in the sky of Hungary, Austria, and Bohemia. In the words of various witnesses, termed according to their knowledge, the object was seen seemingly coming from Mars, or from “the red star in the south,” where Mars was at the time. Our data were collected by Dr. Galle. The towns of Rybnik and Ratibor, Upper Silesia, are 15 miles apart. Without parallax, this luminous thing was seen from these points “to emerge and separate itself from the disc of the planet Mars.” It so happens that we have a definite observation from one of these towns. At Rybnik, Dr. Sage was looking at Mars, at the time. He saw the luminous object “apparently issue from the planet.” There is another circumstance, and for its reception our credulity, or our enlightenment, has been prepared. If this thing did come from Mars, it came from the planet to the point where it exploded in about 5 seconds: from the point of explosion, the sound travelled in several minutes. We have a description from Dr. Sage that indicates that a bolt of some kind, perhaps electric, did shoot from Mars, and that the planet quaked with the shock—“Dr. Sage was looking attentively at the planet Mars, when he thus 102saw the meteor apparently issue from it, and the planet appear as if it was breaking up and dividing into two parts.”

Some of the greatest surprises in commonplace experience are discoveries of the nearness of that which was supposed to be the inaccessibly remote.

It seems that the moon is close to this earth, because of the phenomenon of “earthshine.” The same appearance has been seen upon the planet Venus. If upon the moon, it is light reflecting from this earth and back to this earth, what is it upon Venus? It is “some unexplained optical illusion” says Newcomb (Popular Astronomy, p. 296). For a list of more than twenty observations upon this illumination of Venus, see Rept. B. A., 1873-404. It is our expression that the phenomenon is “unexplained” because it does indicate that Venus is millions of miles closer to this earth than Venus “should” be.

Unknown objects have been seen near Venus. There were more than thirty such observations in the eighteenth century, not relating to so many different periods, however. Our own earliest datum is Webb’s observation, of May 22, 1823. I know of only one astronomer who has supposed that these observations could relate to a Venusian satellite, pronouncedly visible sometimes, and then for many years being invisible: something else will have to be thought of. If these observations and others that we shall have, be accepted, they relate to unknown bulks that have, from outer space, gone to Venus, and have been in temporary suspension near the planet, even though the shade of Sir Isaac Newton would curdle at the suggestion. If, acceptably, from outer space, something could go to the planet Venus, one is not especially startled with the idea that something could sail out from the planet Venus—visit this earth, conceivably.

In the Rept. B. A., 1852-8, 35, it is said that, early in the morning of Sept. 11, 1852, several persons at Fair Oaks, Staffordshire, had seen, in the eastern sky, a luminous object. It was first seen at 4.15 A. M. It appeared and disappeared several times, until 4.45 A. M., when it became finally invisible. Then, at almost the same place in the sky, Venus was seen, having risen above the eastern horizon. These persons sent the records of their 103observations to Lord Wrottesley, an astronomer whose observatory was at Wolverhampton. There is published a letter from Lord Wrottesley, who says that at first he had thought that the supposititiously unknown object was Venus, with perhaps an extraordinary halo, but that he had received from one of the observers a diagram giving such a position relatively to the moon that he hesitated so to identify. It was in the period of nearest approach to this earth by Venus, and, since inferior conjunction (July 20, 1852) Venus had been a “morning star.” If this thing in the sky were not Venus, the circumstances are that an object came close to this earth, perhaps, and for a while was stationary, as if waiting for the planet Venus to appear above the eastern horizon, then disappearing, whether to sail to Venus or not. We think that perhaps this thing did come close to this earth, because it was, it seems, seen only in the local sky of Fair Oaks. However, if, according to many of our data, professional astronomers have missed extraordinary appearances at reasonable hours, we can’t conclude much from what was not reported by them, after 4 o’clock in the morning. I do not know whether this is the origin of the convention or not, but this is the first note I have upon the now standardized explanation that, when a luminous object is seen in the sky at the time of nearest approach by Venus, it is Venus, attracting attention by her great brilliance, exciting persons, unversed in astronomic matters, into thinking that a strange object had visited this earth. When reports are definite as to motions of a seemingly sailing or exploring, luminous thing, astronomers say that it was a fire-balloon.

In the Rept. B. A., 1856-54, it is said that, according to “Mrs. Ayling and friends,” in a letter to Lord Wrottesley, a bright object had been seen in the sky of Petworth, Sussex, night of August 11, 1855. According to description, it rose from behind hills, in the distance, at half past eleven o’clock. It was a red body, or it was a red-appearing construction, because from it were projections like spokes of a wheel; or they were “stationary rays,” in the words of the description. “Like a red moon, it rose slowly, and diminished slowly, remaining visible one hour and a half.” Upon August 11, 1855, Venus was two weeks from primary greatest brilliance, inferior conjunction occurring upon Sept. 30. The 104thing could not have been Venus, ascending in the sky, at this time of night. An astonishing thing, like a red moon, perhaps with spokes like a wheel’s, might, if reported from nowhere else, be considered something that came from outer space so close to this earth that it was visible only in a local sky, except that it might have been visible in other places, and even half past eleven at night may be an unheard-of hour for astronomers, who specialize upon sunspots for a reason that is clearing up to us. Of course an ordinary fire-balloon could be extraordinarily described.

June 8, 1868—I have not the exact time, but one does suspect that it was early in the evening—an object that was reported from Radcliffe Observatory, Oxford. It looked like a comet, but inasmuch as it was reported only from Radcliffe, it may have been in the local sky of Oxford. It seemed to sail in the sky: it moved and changed its course. At first it was stationary; then it moved westward, then southward, then turning north, visible four minutes. See Eng. Mec., 7-351. According to a correspondent to the Birmingham Gazette, May 28, 1868, there had been an extraordinary illumination upon Venus, some nights before: a red spot, visible for a few seconds, night of May 27. In the issue of the Gazette, of June 1st, someone else writes that he saw this light, appearing and disappearing upon Venus. Upon March 15, Browning had seen something that looked like a little shaft of light from Venus (Eng. Mec., 40-130); and upon April 6, Webb had seen a similar appearance (Celestial Objects, p. 57). At the time of the appearance at Oxford, Venus was in the period of nearest approach (inferior conjunction July 16, 1868).

I think, myself, that there was one approximately great, wise astronomer. He was Tycho Brahé. For many years, he would not describe what he saw in the sky, because he considered it beneath his dignity to write a book. The undignified, or more or less literary, or sometimes altogether too literary, astronomers, who do write books, uncompromisingly say that when a luminous object is said to have moved to greater degree than could be considered illusory, in a local sky of this earth, it is a fire-balloon. It is not possible to find in the writings of astronomers who so explain, mention of the object that was seen by Coggia, night of August 1, 1871. It seems that this thing was not far away, and 105did appear only in a local sky of this earth, and if it did come from outer space, how it could have “boarded” this earth, if this earth moves at a rate of 19 miles a second, or 1 mile a second, is so hard to explain that why Proctor and Hind, with their passionate itch for explaining, never took the matter up, I don’t know. Upon Aug. 1, 1871, an unknown luminous object was seen in the sky of Marseilles, by Coggia (Comptes Rendus, 73-398). According to description, it was a magnificent red object. It appeared at 10.43 P. M., and moved eastward, slowly, until 10.52.30. It stopped—moved northward, and again, at 10.59.30, was stationary. It turned eastward again, and, at 11.3.20, disappeared, or fell behind the horizon. Upon this night Venus was within three weeks of primary greatest brilliance, inferior conjunction occurring upon Sept. 25, 1871.

106

CHAPTER THREE

One repeating mystery—the mystery of the local sky.

How, if this earth be a moving earth, could anything sail to, fall to, or in any other way reach this earth, without being smashed into fine particles by the impact?

This earth is supposed to rip space at a rate of about 19 miles a second.

Concepts smash when one tries to visualize such an accomplishment.

Now, three times over, we shall have other aspects of this one mystery of the local sky. First we shall take up data upon seeming relation between a region of this earth that is subject to earthquakes, or so-called earthquakes, and appearances in the sky of this especial region, and the repeating falls of objects and substances from this local sky and nowhere else at the times.

We have had records of quakes that occurred at Irkutsk, Siberia, and of stones that fell from the sky to Irkutsk. Upon March 8, 1829, a severe quake, preceded by clattering sounds, was felt at Irkutsk. There was something in the sky. Dr. Erman, the geologist, was in Irkutsk, at the time. In the Report of the British Association, 1854-20, it is said that, in Dr. Erman’s opinion, the sounds that preceded the quake were in the sky.

The situation at Comrie, Perthshire, is similar. A stone fell, May 17, 1830, in the “earthquake region” around Comrie. It fell at Perth, 22 miles from Comrie. See Fletcher’s List, p. 100. Upon Feb. 15, 1837, a black powder fell upon the Comrie region (Edin. New Phil. Jour., 31-293). Oct. 12, 1839—a quake at Comrie. According to the Rev. M. Walker, of Comrie, the sky, at the time, was “peculiarly strange and alarming, and appeared as if hung with sackcloth.” In Mallet’s Catalog (Rept. B. A., 1854-290) it is said that, throughout the month of October, shocks were felt at Comrie, sometimes slight and sometimes severe—“like distant thunder or reports of artillery”—“the noise sometimes 107seemed to be high in the air, and was often heard without any sensible shock.” Upon the 23rd of October, occurred the most violent quake in the whole series of phenomena at Comrie. See the Edin. New Phil. Jour., vol. 32. All data in this publication were collected by David Milne. According to the Rev. M. Maxton, of Foulis Manse, ten miles from Comrie, rattling sounds were heard in the sky, preceding the shock that was felt. In vol. 33, p. 373, of the Journal, someone who lived seven miles from Comrie is quoted: “In every case, I am inclined to say that the sound proceeded not from underground. The sound seemed high in the air.” Someone who lived at Gowrie, forty miles from Comrie, is quoted: “The most general opinion seems to be that the noise accompanying the concussion proceeded from above.” See vol. 34, p. 87: another impression of explosion overhead and concussion underneath: “The noises heard first seemed to be in the air, and the rumbling sound in the earth.” Milne’s own conclusion—“It is plain that there are, connected with the earthquake shocks, sounds both in the earth and in the air, which are distinct and separate.” If, upon the 23rd of October, 1839, there was a tremendous shock, not of subterranean origin, but from a great explosion in the sky of Comrie, and if this be accepted, there will be concussions somewhere else. The “faults” of dogmas will open; there will be seismic phenomena in science. I have a feeling of a conventional survey of this Scottish sky: vista of a fair, blue, vacant expanse—our suspicions daub the impression with black alarms—but also do we project detonating stimulations into the fair and blue, but unoccupied and meaningless. One can not pass this single occurrence by, considering it only in itself: it is one of a long series of quakes of the earth at Comrie and phenomena in the sky at Comrie. We have stronger evidence than the mere supposition of many persons, in and near Comrie, that, upon Oct. 23, 1839, something had occurred in the sky, because sounds seemed to come from the sky. Milne says that clothes, bleaching on the grass, were entirely covered with black particles which presumably had fallen from the sky. The shocks were felt in November: in November, according to Milne, a powder like soot fell from the sky, upon Comrie and surrounding regions. In his report to the British Association, 1840, Milne, reviewing 108the phenomena from the year 1788, says: “Occasionally there was a fall of fine, black powder.”

Jan. 8, 1840—sounds like cannonading, at Comrie, and a crackling sound in the air, according to some of the residents. Whether they were sounds of quakes or concussions that followed explosions, 247 occurrences, between Oct. 3, 1839 and Feb. 14, 1841, are listed in the Edin. New Phil. Jour., 32-107. It looks like bombardment, and like most persistent bombardment—from somewhere—and the frequent fall from the sky of the débris of explosions. Feb. 18, 1841—a shock and a fall of discolored rain at Comrie (Edin. New Phil. Jour., 35-148). See Roper’s List of Earthquakes—year after year, and the continuance of this seeming bombardment in one small part of the sky of this earth, though I can find records only of dates and no details. However, I think I have found record of a fall from the sky of débris of an explosion, more substantial than finely powdered soot, at Crieff, which is several miles from Comrie. In the Amer. Jour. Sci., 2-28-275, Prof. Shepard tells a circumstantial story of an object that looked like a lump of slag, or cinders, reported to have fallen at Crieff. Scientists had refused to accept the story, upon the grounds that the substance was not of “true meteoric material.” Prof. Shepard went to Crieff and investigated. He gives his opinion that possibly the object did fall from the sky. The story that he tells is that, upon the night of April 23, 1855, a young woman, in the home of Sir William Murray, Achterlyre House, Crieff, saw, or thought she saw, a luminous object falling, and picked it up, dropping it, because it was hot, or because she thought it was hot.

For a description, in a letter, presumably from Sir William Murray, or some member of his family, see Year Book of Facts, 1856-273. It is said that about 12 fragments of scorious matter, hot and emitting a sulphurous odor, had fallen.

In Ponton’s Earthquakes, p. 118, it is said that, upon the 8th of October, 1857, there had been, in Illinois, an earthquake, preceded by “a luminous appearance, described by some as a meteor and by others as vivid flashes of lightning.” Though felt in Illinois, the center of the disturbance was at St. Louis, Mo. One notes the misleading and the obscuring of such wording: 109in all contemporaneous accounts there is no such indefiniteness as one description by “some” and another notion by “others.” Something exploded terrifically in the sky, at St. Louis, and shook the ground “severely” or “violently,” at 4.20 A. M., Oct. 8, 1857. According to Timbs’ Year Book of Facts, 1858-271, “a blinding meteoric ball from the heavens” was seen. “A large and brilliant meteor shot across the heavens” (St. Louis Intelligencer, Oct. 8). Of course the supposed earthquake was concussion from an explosion in the sky, but our own interest is in a series that is similar to others that we have recorded. According to the New York Times, Oct. 12, a slight shock was said to have been felt four hours before the great concussion, and another three days before. But see Milne’s Catalog of Destructive Earthquakes—not a mention of anything that would lead one way from safe and standardized suppositions. See Bull. Seis. Soc. Amer., 3-68—here the “meteor” is mentioned, but there is no mention of the preceding concussions. Time after time, in a period of about three days, concussions were felt in and around St. Louis. One of these concussions, with its “sound like thunder or the roar of artillery” (New York Times, Oct. 8) was from an explosion in the sky. If the others were of the same origin—how could detonating meteors so repeat in one small local sky, and nowhere else, if this earth be a moving body? If it be said that only by coincidence did a meteor explode over a region where there had been other quakes, here is the question:

How many times can we accept that explanation as to similar series?

In the Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, 19-144, a correspondent writes that, in Herefordshire, Sept. 24, 1854, upon a day that was “perfectly still, sky cloudless,” he had heard sounds like the discharges of heavy artillery, at intervals of about two minutes, continuing several hours. Again the “mystery of the local sky”—if these sounds did come from the sky. We have no data for thinking that they did.

In the London Times, Nov. 9, 1858, a correspondent writes that, in Cardiganshire, Wales, he had, in the autumn of 1855, often heard sounds like the discharges of heavy artillery, two or 110three reports rapidly, and then an interval of perhaps 20 minutes, also with long intervals, sometimes of days and sometimes of weeks, continuing throughout the winter of 1855-56. Upon the 3rd of November, 1858, he had heard the sounds again, repeatedly, and louder than they had been three years before. In the Times, Nov. 12, someone else says that, at Dolgelly, he, too, had heard the “mysterious phenomenon,” on the 3rd of November. Someone else—that, upon Oct. 13, he had heard the sounds at Swansea. “The reports, as if of heavy artillery, came from the west, succeeding each other at apparently regular intervals, during the greater part of the afternoon of that day. My impression was that the sounds might have proceeded from practicing at Milford, but I ascertained, the following day, that there had been no firing of any kind there.” Correspondent to the Times, Nov. 20—that, with little doubt, the sounds were from artillery practice at Milford. He does not mention the investigation as to the sounds of Oct. 13, but says that there had been cannon-firing, upon Nov. 3rd, at Milford. Times, Dec. 1—that most of the sounds could be accounted for as sounds of blasting in quarries. Daily News, Nov. 16—that similar sounds had been heard, in 1848, in New Zealand, and were results of volcanic action. Standard, Nov. 16—that the “mysterious noise” must have been from Devonport, where a sunken rock had been blown up. So, with at least variety these sounds were explained. But we learn that the series began before October 13. Upon the evening of Sept. 28, in the Dartmoor District, at Crediton, a rumbling sound was heard. It was not supposed to be an earthquake, because no vibration of the ground was felt. It was thought that there had been an explosion of gunpowder. But there had been no such terrestrial explosion. About an hour later another explosive sound was heard. It was like all the other sounds, and in one place was thought to be distant cannonading—terrestrial cannonading. See Quar. Jour. Geolog. Soc. of London, vol. 15.

Somewhere near Barisal, Bengal, were occurring just such sounds as the sounds of Cardiganshire, which were like the sounds of Melida. In the Proc. Asiatic Soc. of Bengal, Nov. 1870, are published letters upon the Barisal Guns. One writer says that the sounds were probably booming of the surf. Someone else 111points out that the sounds, usually described as “explosive,” were heard too far inland to be traced to such origin. A clear, calm day, in December, 1871—in Nature, 53-197, Mr. G. B. Scott writes that, in Bengal, he had heard “a dull, muffled boom, as if of distant cannon”—single detonations, and then two or three in quicker succession.

In the London Times, Jan. 20, 1860, several correspondents write as to a sound “resembling the discharge of a gun high in the air” that was heard near Reading, Berkshire, England, Jan. 17, 1860. See the Times, Jan. 24th. To say that a meteor had exploded would, at present, well enough account for this phenomenon.

Sounds like those that were heard in Herefordshire, Sept. 24, 1854, were heard later. In the English Mechanic, 100-279, it is said that, upon Nov. 9, 1862, the Rev. T. Webb, the astronomer, of Hardwicke, fifteen miles west of Hereford, heard sounds that he attributed to gunfire at Milford Haven, about 85 miles from Hardwicke. Upon Aug. 1, 1865, Mr. Webb saw flashes upon the horizon, at Hardwicke, and attributed them to gunfire at Tenby, upon occasion of a visit by Prince Arthur. Tenby, too, is about 85 miles from Hardwicke. There were other phenomena in a region centering around Hereford and Worcester. Upon Oct. 6, 1863, there was a disturbance that is now listed as an earthquake; but in the London newspapers so many reports upon this occurrence state that a great explosion had been thought to occur, and that the quake was supposed to be an earthquake of subterranean origin only after no terrestrial explosion could be heard of, that the phenomenon is of questionable origin. There was a similar concussion in about the same region, Oct. 30, 1868. Again the shock was widely attributed to a great explosion, perhaps in London, and again was supposed to have been an earthquake when no terrestrial explosion could be heard of.

Arcana of Science, 1829-196:

That, near Mhow, India, Feb. 27, 1828, fell a stone “perfectly similar” to the stone that fell near Allahabad, in 1802, and a stone that fell near Mooradabad, in 1808. These towns are in the Northwestern Provinces of India.

112I have looked at specimens of these stones, and in my view they are similar. They are of brownish rock, streaked and spotted with a darker brown. A stone that fell at Chandakopur, in the same general region, June 6, 1838, is like them. All are as much alike as “erratics” that, because they are alike, geologists ascribe to the same derivation, stationary relatively to the places in which they are found.

It seems acceptable that, upon July 15 and 17, 1822, and then upon a later date, unknown seeds fell from the sky to this earth. If these seeds did come from some other world, there is another mystery as well as that of repetition in a local sky of this earth. How could a volume of seeds remain in one aggregation; how could the seeds be otherwise than scattered from Norway to Patagonia, if they met in space this earth, and if this earth be rushing through space at a rate of 19 miles a second? It may be that the seeds of 1822 fell again. According to Kaemtz (Meteorology, p. 465) yellowish brown corpuscles, some round, a few cylindrical, were found upon the ground, June, 1830, near Griesau, Silesia. Kaemtz says that they were tubercules from roots of a well-known Silesian plant—stalk of the plant dries up; heavy rain raises these tubercules to the ground—persons of a low order of mentality think that the things had fallen from the sky. Upon the night of March 24-25, 1852, a great quantity of seeds did fall from the sky, in Prussia, in Heinsberg, Erklenz, and Juliers, according to M. Schwann, of the University of Liége, in a communication to the Belgian Academy of Science (La Belgique Horticole, 2-319).

In Comptes Rendus, 5-549, is Dr. Wartmann’s account of water that fell from the sky, at Geneva. At nine o’clock, morning of Aug. 9, 1837, there were clouds upon the horizon, but the zenith was clear. It is not remarkable that a little rain should fall now and then from a clear sky: we shall see wherein this account is remarkable. Large drops of warm water fell in such abundance that people were driven to shelter. The fall continued several minutes and then stopped. But then, several times during an hour, more of this warm water fell from the sky. Year Book of Facts, 1839-262—that upon May 31, 1838, lukewarm water in large drops, fell from the sky, at Geneva. Comptes Rendus, 11315-290—no wind and not a cloud in the sky—at 10 o’clock, morning of May 11, 1842, warm water fell from the sky at Geneva, for about six minutes; five hours later, still no wind and no clouds, again fell warm water, in large drops; falling intermittently for several minutes.

In Comptes Rendus, 85-681, is noted a succession of falls of stones in Russia: June 12, 1863, at Buschof, Courland; Aug. 8, 1863, at Pillitsfer, Livonia; April 12, 1864, at Nerft, Courland. Also—see Fletcher’s List—a stone that fell at Dolgovdi, Volhynia, Russia, June 26, 1864. I have looked at specimens of all four of these stones, and have found them all very much alike, but not of uncommon meteoritic material: all gray stones, but Pillitsfer is darker than the others, and in a polished specimen of Nerft, brownish specks are visible.

In the Birmingham Daily Post, June 14, 1858, Dr. C. Mansfield Ingleby, a meteorologist, writes: “During the storm on Saturday (12th) morning, Birmingham was visited by a shower of aerolites. Many hundreds of thousands must have fallen, some of the streets being strewn with them.” Someone else writes that many pounds of the stones had been gathered from awnings, and that they had damaged greenhouses, in the suburbs. In the Post, of the 15th, someone else writes that, according to his microscopic examinations, the supposed aerolites were only bits of the Rowley ragstone, with which Birmingham was paved, which had been washed loose by the rain. It is not often that sentiment is brought into meteorology, but in the Report of the British Association, 1864-37, Dr. Phipson explains the occurrence meteorologically, and with an unconscious tenderness. He says that the stones did fall from the sky, but that they had been carried in a whirlwind from Rowley, some miles from Birmingham. So we are to sentimentalize over the stones in Rowley that had been torn, by unfeeling paviers, from their companions of geologic ages, and exiled to the pavements of Birmingham, and then some of these little bereft companions, rising in a whirlwind and travelling, unerringly, if not miraculously, to rejoin the exiles. More dark companions. It is said that they were little black stones.

They fell again from the sky, two years later. In La Science Pour Tous, June 19, 1860, it is said that, according to the Wolverhampton 114Advertiser, a great number of little black stones had fallen, in a violent storm, at Wolverhampton. According to all records findable by me no such stones have ever fallen anywhere in Great Britain, except at Birmingham and Wolverhampton, which is 13 miles from Birmingham.

Eight years after the second occurrence, they fell again. English Mechanic, July 31, 1868—that stones “similar to, if not identical with the well-known Rowley ragstones” had fallen in Birmingham, having probably been carried from Rowley, in a whirlwind.

We were pleased with Dr. Phipson’s story, but to tell of more of the little dark companions rising in a whirlwind and going unerringly from Rowley to rejoin the exiles in Birmingham is overdoing. That’s not sentiment: that’s mawkishness.

In the Birmingham Daily Post, May 30, 1868, is published a letter from Thomas Plant, a writer and lecturer upon meteorological subjects. Mr. Plant says, I think, that for one hour, morning of May 29, 1868, stones fell, in Birmingham, from the sky. His words may be interpretable in some other way, but it does not matter: the repeating falls are indication enough of what we’re trying to find out—“From nine to ten, meteoric stones fell in immense quantities in various parts of town.” “They resembled, in shape, broken pieces of Rowley ragstone ... in every respect they were like the stones that fell in 1858.” In the Post, June 1, Mr. Plant says that the stones of 1858 did fall from the sky, and were not fragments washed out of the pavement by rain, because many pounds of them had been gathered from a platform that was 20 feet above the ground.

It may be that for days before and after May 29, 1868, occasional stones fell from some unknown region stationary above Birmingham. In the Post, June 2, a correspondent writes that, upon the first of June, his niece, while walking in a field, was struck by a stone that injured her hand severely. He thinks that the stone had been thrown by some unknown person. In the Post, June 4, someone else writes that his wife, while walking down a lane, upon May 24th, had been cut on the head by a stone. He attributes this injury to stone-throwing by boys, but does not say that anyone had been seen to throw the stone.

115Symons’ Met. Mag., 4-137:

That, according to the Birmingham Gazette, a great number of small, black stones had been found in the streets of Wolverhampton, May 25, 1869, after a severe storm. It is said that the stones were precisely like those that had fallen in Birmingham, the year before, and resembled Rowley ragstone outwardly, but had a different appearance when broken.

116

CHAPTER FOUR

Upon page 287, Popular Astronomy, Newcomb says that it is beyond all “moral probability” that unknown worlds should exist in such numbers as have been reported, and should be seen crossing the solar disc only by amateur observers and not by skilled astronomers.

Most of our instances are reports by some of the best-known astronomers.

Newcomb says that for fifty years, prior to his time of writing (edition of 1878) the sun had been studied by such men as Schwabe, Carrington, Secchi, and Spörer, and that they had never seen unknown bodies cross the sun—

Aug. 30, 1863—an unknown body that was seen by Spörer to cross the sun (Webb, Celestial Objects, p. 45).

Sept. 1, 1859—two star-like objects that were seen by Carrington to cross the sun (Monthly Notices, 20-13, 15, 88).

Things that crossed the sun, July 31, 1826, and May 26, 1828—see Comptes Rendus, 83-623, and Webb’s Celestial Objects, p. 40. From Sept. 6, to Nov. 1, 1831, an unknown luminous object was seen every cloudless night, at Geneva, by Dr. Wartmann and his assistants (Comptes Rendus, 2-307). It was reported from nowhere else. What all the other astronomers were doing, Sept.-Oct., 1831, is one of the mysteries that we shall not solve. An unknown, luminous object that was seen, from May 11 to May 14, 1835, by Cacciatore, the Sicilian astronomer (Amer. Jour. Sci., 31-158). Two unknowns that according to Pastorff, crossed the sun, Nov. 1, 1836, and Feb. 16, 1837 (An. Sci. Disc., 1860-410)—De Vico’s unknown, July 12, 1837 (Observatory, 2-424)—observation by De Cuppis, Oct. 2, 1839 (C. R., 83-314)—by Scott and Wray, last of June, 1847; by Schmidt, Oct. 11, 1847 (C. R., 83-623)—two dark bodies that were seen, Feb. 5, 1849, by Brown, of Deal (Rec. Sci., 1-138)—object watched by 117Sidebotham, half an hour, March 12, 1849, crossing the sun (C. R., 83-622)—Schmidt’s unknown, Oct. 14, 1849 (Observatory, 3-137)—and an object that was watched, four nights in October, 1850, by James Ferguson, of the Washington Observatory. Mr. Hind believed this object to be a Trans-Neptunian planet, and calculated for it a period of 1,600 years. Mr. Hind was a great astronomer, and he miscalculated magnificently: this floating island of space was not seen again (Smithson. Miscell. Cols., 20-20).

About May 30, 1853—a black point that was seen against the sun, by Jaennicke (Cosmos, 20-64).

A procession—in the Rept. B. A., 1855-94, R. P. Greg says that, upon May 22, 1854, a friend of his saw, near Mercury, an object equal in size to the planet itself, and behind it an elongated object, and behind that something else, smaller and round.

June 11, 1855—a dark body of such size that it was seen, without telescopes, by Ritter and Schmidt, crossing the sun (Observatory, 3-137). Sept. 12, 1857—Ohrt’s unknown world; seemed to be about the size of Mercury (C. R., 83-623)—Aug. 1, 1858—unknown world reported by Wilson, of Manchester (Astro. Reg., 9-287).

I am not listing all the unknowns of a period; perhaps the object reported by John H. Tice, of St. Louis, Mo., Sept. 15, 1859, should not be included; Mr. Tice was said not to be trustworthy—but who has any way of knowing? However, I am listing enough of these observations to make me feel like a translated European of some centuries ago, relatively to a wider existence—lands that may be the San Salvadors, Greenlands, Madagascars, Cubas, Australias of extra-geography, all of them said to have crossed the sun, whereas the sun may have moved behind some of them—

Jan. 29, 1860—unknown object, of planetary size, reported from London, by Russell and three other observers (Nature, 15-505). Summer of 1860—see Sci. Amer., 35-340, for an account, by Richard Covington, of an object, that without a telescope, he saw crossing the sun. An unknown world, reported by Loomis, of Manchester, March 20, 1862 (Monthly Notices, 22-232)—a newspaper account of an object that was seen crossing the sun, 118Feb. 12, 1864, by Samuel Beswick, of New York (Astro. Reg., 2-161)—unknown that was seen, March 18, 1865, at Constantinople (L’Ann. Sci., 1865-16)—unknown “cometic objects” that were seen, Nov. 4, 9, and 18, 1865 (Monthly Notices, 26-242).

Most of these unknowns were seen in the daytime. Several reflections arise. How could there be stationary regions over Irkutsk, Comrie, and Birmingham, and never obscure the stars—or never be seen to obscure the stars? A heresy that seems too radical for me is that they may be beyond the nearby stars. A more reasonable idea is that if nightwatchmen and policemen and other persons who do stay awake nights, should be given telescopes, something might be found out. Something else that one thinks of is that, if so many unknowns have been seen crossing the sun, or crossed by the sun, others not so revealed must exist in great numbers, and that instead of being virtually blank, space must be archipelagoic.

Something that was seen at night; observer not an astronomer—

Nov. 6, 1866—an account, in the London Times, Jan. 2, 1867, by Senor De Fonblanque, of the British Consulate, at Carthegena, U. S. Columbia, of a luminous object that moved in the sky. “It was of the magnitude, color, and brilliance of a ship’s red light, as seen at a distance of 200 yards.” The object was visible three minutes, and then disappeared behind buildings. De Fonblanque went to an open space to look for it, but did not see it again.

119

CHAPTER FIVE

If we could stop to sing, instead of everlastingly noting vol. this and p. that, we could have the material of sagas—of the bathers in the sun, which may be neither intolerably hot nor too uncomfortably cold; and of the hermit who floats across the moon; of heroes and the hairy monsters of the sky. I should stand in public places and sing our data—sagas of parades and explorations and massacres in the sky—having a busy band of accompanists, who set off fireworks, and send up balloons, and fire off explosives at regular intervals—extra-geographic songs of boiling lakes and floating islands—extra-sociologic metres that express the tramp of space-armies upon inter-planetary paths covered with little black pebbles—biologic epics of the clouds of mammoths and horses and antelopes that once upon a time fell from the sky upon the northern coast of Siberia—

Song that interprets the perpendicular white streaks in the repeating mirages at Youghal—the rhythmic walruses of space that hang on by their tusks to the edges of space-islands, sometimes making stars variable as they swing in cosmic undulations—so a round space-island with its border of gleaming tusks, and we frighten children with the song of an ogre’s head, with a wide-open mouth all around it—fairy lands of the little moon, and the tiny civilizations in rocky cups that are sometimes drained to their slums by the wide-mouthed ogres. The Maelstrom of Everlasting Catastrophe that overhangs Genoa, Italy—and twines its currents around a living island. The ground underneath quakes with the struggle—then the fall of blood—and the fall of blood—three days the fall of blood from the broken red brooks of a living island whose mutilations are scenery—

But after all, it may be better that we go back to Rept. B. A.—see vol. 1849, p. 46—a stream of black objects, crossing the sun, watched, at Naples, May 11, 1845, by Capocci and other astronomers—things that may have been seeds.

120A great number of red points in the sky of Urrugne, July 9, 1853 (An. Soc. Met. de France, 1853-227). Astro. Reg., 5-179—C. L. Prince, of Uckfield, writes that, upon June 11, 1867, he saw objects crossing the field of his telescope. They were seeds, in his opinion.

Birmingham Daily Post, May 31, 1867:

Mr. Bird, the astronomer, writes that, about 11 A. M., May 30, he saw unknown forms in the sky. In his telescope, which was focussed upon them and upon the planet Venus, they appeared to be twice the size of Venus. They were far away, according to focus; also, it may be accepted that they were far away because an occasional cloud passed between them and this earth. They did not move like objects carried in the wind: all did not move in the same direction, and they moved at different speeds.

“All of them seemed to have hairy appendages, and in many cases a distinct tail followed the object and was highly luminous.”

Flashes that have been seen in the sky—and they’re from a living island that wags his luminous peninsular. Hair-like substances that have fallen to this earth—a meadow has been shorn from a monster’s mane. My animation is the notion that it is better to think in tentative hysteria of pairs of vast things, travelling like a North and South America through the sky, perhaps one biting the other with its Gulf of Mexico, than to go on thinking that all things that so move in the sky are seeds, whereas all things that swim in the sea are not sardines.

In the Post, June 3, 1867, Mr. W. H. Wood writes that the objects were probably seeds. Post, June 5—Mr. Bird says that the objects were not seeds. “My intention was simply to describe what was seen, and the appearance was certainly that of meteors.” He saves himself, in the annals of extra-geography—“whether they were meteors of the ordinary acceptation, is another matter.”

And the planet Venus, and her veil that is dotted with blue-fringed cupids—in the Astronomical Register, 7-138, a correspondent writes, from Northampton, that, upon May 2, 1869, he was looking at Venus, and saw a host of shining objects, not uniform in size. He thinks that it is unlikely that so early in the spring could these objects be seeds. He watched them about an hour and twenty minutes—“many of the larger ones were fringed 121on one side, the fringe appearing somewhat bluish.” Or that it is better even to sentimentalize than to go on stupidly thinking that all such things in the sky are seeds, whereas all things in the sea are not the economically adjusting little forms without which critics of underground traffic in New York probably could not express themselves—the planet Venus—she approaches this lordly earth—the blue-fringed ecstasies that suffuse her skies.

With the phenomena of Aug. 7, 1869, I suspect that the “phantom soldiers” that have been seen in the sky, may have been reflections from, or mirages of, things or beings that march, in military formations, in space. In Popular Astronomy, 3-159, Prof. Swift writes that, at Mattoon, Ill., during the eclipse of the sun, of Aug. 7, 1869, he had seen, crossing the moon, objects that he thought were seeds. If they were seeds, also there happened to be seeds in the sky of Ottumwa, Iowa: here, crossing the visible part of the sun, twenty minutes before totality of the eclipse, Prof. Himes and Prof. Zentmayer saw objects that marched, or that moved, in straight, parallel lines (Les Mondes, 21-241). In the Jour. Frank. Inst., 3-58-214, it is said that some of these objects moved in one direction across the moon, and that others moved in another direction across another part of the moon, each division moving in parallel lines. If these things were seeds, also there happened to be seeds in the sky, at Shelleyville, Kentucky. Here were seen, by Prof. Winlock, Alvan Clark, Jr., and George W. Dean, things that moved across the moon, during the eclipse, in parallel, straight lines (Pop. Astro., 2-332).

Whatever these things may have been, I offer another datum indicating that the moon is nearby: that these objects probably were not, by coincidence, things in three widely separated skies, parallelness giving them identity in two of the observations; and, if seen, without parallax, from places so far apart, against the moon, were close to the moon; that observation of such detail would be unlikely if they were near a satellite 240,000 miles away—unless, of course, they were mountain-sized.

It may be that out from two floating islands of space, two processions had marched across the moon. Observatory, 3-137—that, at St. Paul’s Junction, Iowa, four persons had seen, without telescopes, a shining object close to the sun and moon, apparently; 122that, with a telescope, another person had seen another large object, crescentically illumined, farther from the sun and moon in eclipse. See Nature, 18-663, and Astro. Reg., 7-227.

I have many data upon the fall of organic matter from the sky. Because of my familiarity with many records, it seems no more incredible that up in the seemingly unoccupied sky there should be hosts of living things than that the seeming blank of the ocean should swarm with life. I have many notes upon a phosphorescence, or electric condition of things that fall from the sky, for instance the highly luminous stones of Dhurmsulla, which were intensely cold—

Amer. Jour. Sci., 2-28-270:

It is said that, according to investigations by Prof. Shepard, a luminous substance was seen falling slowly, by Sparkman R. Scriven, a young man of seventeen, at his home, in Charleston, S. C., Nov. 16, 1857. It is said that the young man saw a fiery, red ball, the size and shape of an orange, strike a fence, breaking, and disappearing. Where this object had struck the fence, was found “a small bristling mass of black fibres.” According to Prof. Shepard, it was “a confused aggregate of short clippings of the finest black hair, varying in length from one tenth to one third of an inch.” Prof. Shepard says that this substance was not organic. It seems to me that he said this only because of the coercions of his era. My reason for so thinking is that he wrote that when he analyzed these hairs they burned away, leaving grayish skeletons, and that they were “composed in part of carbon,” and burned with an odor “most nearly bituminous.”

For full details of the following circumstances, see Comptes Rendus, 13-215 and Rept. B. A., 1854-302:

Feb. 17, 1841—the fall, at Genoa, Italy, of a red substance from the sky—another fall upon the 18th—a slight quake, at 5 P. M., Feb. 18th—another quake, six hours later—fall of more of the red substance, upon the 19th. Some of this substance was collected and analyzed by M. Canobbia, of Genoa. He says it was oily and red.

123

CHAPTER SIX

In a pamphlet entitled Wonderful Phenomena, by Curtis Eli, is the report of an occurrence, or of an alleged occurrence, that was investigated by Mr. Addison A. Sawin, a spiritualist. He interpreted in the only way that I know of, and that is the psyco-chemic process of combining new data with preconceptions with which they seem to have affinity. It is said that, at Warwick, C. W., Oct. 3, 1843, somebody named Charles Cooper heard a rumbling sound in the sky, and saw a cloud, under which were three human forms, “perfectly white,” sailing through the air above him, not higher than the tree-tops. It is said that the beings were angels. They were male angels. That is orthodox. The angels wafted through the air, but without motions of their own, and an interesting observation is that they seemed to have belts around their bodies—as if they had been let down from a vessel above, though this poor notion is not suggested in the pamphlet. They “moaned.” Cooper called to some men who were laboring in another field, and they saw the cloud, but did not see the forms of living beings under it. It is said that a boy had seen the beings in the air, “side by side, making a loud and mournful noise.” Another person, who lived six miles away is quoted: “he saw the clouds and the persons and heard the sounds.” Mr. Sawin quotes others, who had seen “a remarkable cloud,” and had heard the sounds, but had not seen the angels. He ends up: “Yours is the glorious hope of the resurrection of the soul.” The gloriousness of it is an inverse function of the dolefulness of it: Sunday Schools will not take kindly to the doctrine—be good and you will moan forever. One supposes that the glorious hope colored the whole investigation.

Some day I shall publish data that lead me to suspect that many appearances upon this earth that were once upon a time interpreted by theologians and demonologists, but are now supposed to be the subject-matter of psychic research, were beings and objects that 124visited this earth, not from a spiritual existence, but from outer space. That extra-geographic conditions may be spiritual, or of highly attenuated matter, is not my present notion, though that, too, may be some day accepted. Of course all these data suffer, in one way, about as much distortion as they would in other ways, if they had been reported by astronomers or meteorologists. As to all the material in this chapter, I take the position that perhaps there were appearances in the sky, and perhaps they were revelations of, or mirages from, unknown regions and conditions of outer space, and spectacles of relatively nearby inhabited lands, and of space-travellers, but that all reports upon them were products of the assimilating of the unknown with figures and figments of the nearest familiar similarities. Another position of mine that will be found well-taken is that, no matter what my own interpretations or acceptances may be, they will compare favorably, so far as rationality is concerned, with orthodox explanations. There have been many assertions that “phantom soldiers” have been seen in the sky. For the orthodox explanation of the physicists, see Brewster’s Natural Magic, p. 125: a review of the phenomenon of June 23, 1744; that, according to 27 witnesses, some of whom gave sworn testimony before a magistrate, whether that should be mentioned or not, troops of aërial soldiers had been seen, in Scotland, on and over a mountain, remaining visible two hours and then disappearing because of darkness. In Clarke’s Survey of the Lakes (fol. 1789) is an account in the words of one of the witnesses. See Notes and Queries, 1-7-304. Brewster says that the scene must have been a mirage of British troops, who, in anticipation of the rebellion of 1745, were secretly manœuvring upon the other side of the mountain. With a talent for clear-seeing, for which we are notable, except when it comes to some of our own explanations, we almost instantly recognize that, to keep a secret from persons living upon one side of a mountain, it is a very sensible idea to go and manœuvre upon the other side of the mountain; but then how to keep the secret, in a thickly populated country like Scotland, from persons living upon that other side of the mountain—however there never has been an explanation that did not itself have to be explained.

Or the “phantom soldiers” that were seen at Ujest, Silesia, in 1251785—see Parish’s Hallucinations and Illusions, p. 309. Parish finds that at the time of this spectacle, there were soldiers, of this earth, marching near Ujest; so he explains that the “phantom soldiers” were mirages of them. They were marching in the funeral procession of General von Cosel. But some time later they were seen again, at Ujest—and the General had been dead and buried several days, and his funeral procession disbanded—and if a refraction can survive independently of its primary, so may a shadow, and anybody may take a walk where he went a week before, and see some of his shadows still wandering around without him. The great neglect of these explainers is in not accounting for an astonishing preference for, or specialization in, marching soldiers, by mirages. But if often there be, in the sky, things or beings that move in parallel lines, and, if their betrayals be not mirages, but their shadows cast down upon the haze of this earth, or Brocken spectres, such frequency, or seeming specialization, might be accounted for.

Sept. 27, 1846—a city in the sky of Liverpool (Rept. B. A., 1847-39). The apparition is said to have been a mirage of the city of Edinburgh. This “identification” seems to have been the product of suggestion: at the time a panorama of Edinburgh was upon exhibition in Liverpool.

Summer of 1847—see Flammarion’s The Atmosphere, p. 160—story told by M. Grellois: that he was travelling between Ghelma and Bône, when he saw, to the east of Bône, upon a gently sloping hill, “a vast and beautiful city, adorned with monuments, domes, and steeples.” There was no resemblance to any city known to M. Grellois.

In the Bull. Soc. Astro. de France, 21-180, is an account of a spectacle that, according to 20 witnesses, was seen for two hours in the sky of Vienne dans le Dauphiné, May 3, 1848. A city—and an army, in the sky. One supposes that a Brewster would say that nearby was a terrestrial city, with troops manœuvring near it. But also vast lions were seen in the sky—and that is enough to discourage any Brewster. Four months later, according to the London Times, Sept. 13, 1848, a still more discouraging—or perhaps stimulating—spectacle was, or was not, seen in Scotland. Afternoon of Sept. 9, 1848—Quigley’s Point, Lough Foyle, 126Scotland—the sky turned dark. It seemed to open. The opening looked reddish, and in the reddish area, appeared a regiment of soldiers. Then came appearances that looked like war vessels under full sail, then “a man and a woman and a swan and a peahen.” The “opening” closed, and that was the last of this shocking or ridiculous mixture that nobody but myself would record as being worth thinking about.

“Phantom soldiers” that were seen in the sky, near the Banmouth, Dec. 30, 1850 (Rept. B. A., 1852-30).

“Phantom soldiers” that were seen at Buderich, Jan. 22, 1854 (Notes and Queries, 1-9-267).

“Phantom soldiers” that were seen by Lord Roberts (Forty-One Years in India, p. 219) at Mohan, Feb. 25, 1858. It is either that Lord Roberts saw indistinctly, and described in terms of the familiar to him, or that we are set back in our own notions. According to him, the figures wore Hindoo costumes.

Extra-geography—its vistas and openings and fields—and the Thoreaus that are upon this earth, but undeveloped, because they can not find their ponds. A lonely thing and its pond, afloat in space—they crossed the moon. In Cosmos, n. s., 11-200, it is said that, night of July 7, 1857, two persons of Chambon had seen forms crossing the moon—something like a human being followed by a pond.

“Phantom soldiers” that were seen, about the year 1860, at Paderborn, Westphalia (Crowe, Night-side of Nature, p. 416).

127

CHAPTER SEVEN

We attempt to co-ordinate various streaks of data, all of which signify to us that, external to this earth, and in relation with, or relatable to, this earth are lands and lives and a generality of conditions that make of the whole, supposed solar system one globule of circumstances like terrestrial circumstances. Our expressions are in physical terms, though in outer space there may be phenomena known as psychic phenomena, because of the solid substances and objects that have fallen from the sky to this earth, similar to, but sometimes not identified with, known objects and substances upon this earth. Opposing us is the more or less well-established conventional doctrine that has spun like a cocoon around mind upon this earth, shutting off research, and stifling even speculation, shelling away all data of relations and relatability with external existences, a doctrine that, in its various explanations and disregards and denials, is unified in one expression of Exclusionism.

An unknown vegetable substance falls from the sky. The datum is buried: it may sprout some day.

The earth quakes. A luminous object is seen in the sky. Substance falls from the unknown. But the event is cataloged with subterranean earthquakes.

All conventional explanations and all conventional disregards and denials have Exclusionism in common. The unity is so marked, all writings in the past are so definitely in agreement, that I now think of a general era that is, by Exclusionism, as distinctly characterized as ever was the Carboniferous Era.

A pregnant woman stands near Niagara Falls. There are sounds, and they are vast circumstances; but the cells of an unborn being respond, or vibrate, only as they do to disturbances in their own little environment. Horizons pour into a gulf, and thunder rolls upward: embryonic consciousness is no more than 128to slight perturbations of maternal indigestion. It is Exclusionism.

Stones fall from the sky. To the same part of this earth, they fall again. They fall again. They fall from some region that, relatively to this part of the earth’s surface, is stationary. But to say this leads to the suspicion that it is this earth that is stationary. To think that is to beat against the walls of uterine dogmas—into a partly hairy and somewhat reptilian mass of social undevelopment comes exclusionist explanation suitable for such immaturity.

It does not matter which of our subjects we take up, our experience is unvarying: the standardized explanation will be Exclusionism. As to many appearances in the sky, the way of excluding foreign forces is to say that they are auroras, which are supposed to be mundane phenomena. School children are taught that auroras are electric manifestations encircling the poles of this earth. Respectful urchins are shown an ikon by which an electrified sphere does have the polar encirclements that it should have. But I have taken a disrespectful, or advanced, course through the Monthly Weather Review, and have read hundreds of times of auroras that were not such polar crownings: of auroras in Venezuela, Sandwich Islands, Cuba, India; of an aurora in Pennsylvania, for instance, and not a sign of it north of Pennsylvania. There are lights in the sky for which “auroral” is as good a name as any that can be thought of, but there are others for which some other names will have to be thought of. There have been lights like luminous surfs beating upon the coasts of this earth’s atmosphere, and lights like vast reflections from distant fires; steady pencils of light and pulsating clouds and quick flashes and seeming objects with definite outlines, all in one poverty of nomenclature, for which science is, in some respects, not notable, called “auroral.” Nobody knows what an aurora is. It does not matter. An unknown light in the sky is said to be auroral. This is standardization, and the essence of this standardization is Exclusionism.

I see one resolute, unified, unscrupulous exclusion from science of the indications of nearby lands in the sky. It may not be unscrupulousness: it may be hypnosis. I see that all seeming 129hypnotics, or somnambulics of the past, who have most plausibly so explained, or so denied, have prospered and have had renown. According to my impressions, if a Brewster, or a Swift, or a Newcomb ever had written that there may be nearby lands and living beings in the sky, he would not have prospered, and his renown would be still subject to delayal. If an organism flourishes, it is said to be in harmony with environment, or with higher forces. I now conceive of successful and flourishing Exclusionism as an organization that has been in harmony with higher forces. Suppose we accept that all general delusions function sociologically. Then, if Exclusionism be general delusion; if we shall accept that conceivably the isolation of this earth has been a necessary factor in the development of the whole geo-system, we see that exclusionistic science has faithfully, though falsely, functioned. It would be world-wide crime to spread world-wide too soon the idea that there are other existences nearby and that they have been seen and that sounds from them have been heard: the peoples of this earth must organize themselves before conceiving of, and trying to establish, foreign relations. A premature science of such subjects would be like a United States taking part in a Franco-Prussian War, when such foreign relations should be still far in the future of a nation that has still to concentrate upon its own internal development.

So in the development of all things—or that a stickleback may build a nest, and so may vaguely and not usefully and not explicably at all, in terms of Darwinian evolution, foreshadow a character of coming forms of life; but that a fish that should try to climb a tree and sing to its mate before even the pterodactyl had flapped around with wings daubed with clay would be an unnoticed little clown in cosmic drama. But I do conceive that when the Carboniferous Era is dominant, and when not a discordant thing will be permitted to flourish, though it may adumbrate, restrictions will not last forever, and that the rich and bountiful curse upon rooted things will some day be lifted.

130

CHAPTER EIGHT

Patched by a blue inundation that had never been seen before—this earth, early in the 60’s of the 19th century. Then faintly, from far away, this new appearance is seen to be enveloped with volumes of gray. Flashes like lightning, and faintest of rumbling sounds—then cloud-like envelopments roll away, and a blue formation shines in the sun. Meteorologists upon the moon take notes.

But year after year there are appearances, as seen from the moon, that are so characterized that they may not be meteorologic phenomena upon this earth: changing compositions wrought with elements of blue and of gray; it is like conflict between Synthesis and Dissolution: straight lines that fade into scrawls, but that re-form into seeming moving symbols: circles and squares and triangles abound.

Having had no mean experience with interpretations as products of desires, given that upon the moon communication with this earth should be desired, it seems likely to me that the struggles of hosts of Americans, early in the 60’s of the 19th century, were thought by some lunarians to be manœuvres directed to them, or attempts to attract their attention. However, having had many impressions upon the resistance that new delusions encounter, so that, at least upon this earth, some benightments have had to wait centuries before finally imposing themselves generally, I’d think of considerable time elapsing before the coming of a general conviction upon the moon that, by means of living symbols, and the firing of explosives, terrestrians were trying to communicate.

Beacon-like lights that have been seen upon the moon. The lights have been desultory. The latest of which I have record was back in the year 1847. But now, if beginning in the early 60’s, though not coinciding with the beginning of unusual and tremendous manifestations upon this earth, we have data as if of greatly stimulated attempts to communicate from the moon—why 131one assimilates one’s impressions of such great increase with this or with that, all according to what one’s dominant thoughts may be, and calls the product a logical conclusion. Upon the night of May 15, 1864, Herbert Ingall, of Camberwell, saw a little to the west of the lunar crater Picard, in the Mare Crisium, a remarkably bright spot (Astro. Reg., 2-264).

Oct. 24, 1864—period of nearest approach by Mars—red lights upon opposite parts of Mars (C. R., 85-538). Upon Oct. 16, Ingall had again seen the light west of Picard. Jan. 1, 1865—a small speck of light, in darkness, under the east foot of the lunar Alps, shining like a small star, watched half an hour by Charles Grover (Astro. Reg., 3-255). Jan. 3, 1865—again the red lights of Mars (C. R., 85-538). A thread of data appears, as an offshoot from a main streak, but it can not sustain itself. Lights on the moon and lights on Mars, but I have nothing more that seems to signify both signals and responses between these two worlds.

April 10, 1865—west of Picard, according to Ingall—“a most minute point of light, glittering like a star” (Astro. Reg., 3-189).

Sept. 5, 1865—a conspicuous bright spot west of Picard (Astro. Reg., 3-252). It was seen again by Ingall. He saw it again upon the 7th, but upon the 8th it had gone, and there was a cloud-like effect where the light had been.

Nov. 24, 1865—a speck of light that was seen by the Rev. W. O. Williams, shining like a small star in the lunar crater Carlini (Intel. Obs., 11-58).

June 10, 1866—the star-like light in Aristarchus; reported by Tempel (Denning, Telescopic Work, p. 121).

Astronomically and seleno-meteorologically, nothing that I know of has ever been done with these data. I think well of taking up the subject theologically. We are approaching accounts of a different kind of changes upon the moon. There will be data seeming so to indicate not only persistence but devotedness upon the moon that I incline to think not only of devotedness but of devotions. Upon the 16th of October, 1866, the astronomer Schmidt, of the land of Socrates, announced that the isolated object, in the eastern part of the Mare Serenitatis, known as Linné, had changed. Linné stands out in a blank area like the Pyramid 132of Cheops in its desert. If changes did occur upon Linné, the conspicuous position seems to indicate selection. Before October, 1866, Linné was well-known as a dark object. Something was whitening an object that had been black.

A hitherto unpublished episode in the history of theologies:

The new prophet who had appeared upon the moon—

Faint perceptions of moving formations, often almost rigorously geometric, upon one part of this earth, and perhaps faintest of signal-like sounds that reached the moon—the new prophet—and that he preached the old lunar doctrine that there is no god but the Earth-god, but exhorted his hearers to forsake their altars upon which had burned unheeded lights, and to build a temple upon which might be recited a litany of lights and shades.

We are only now realizing how the Earth-god looks to the beings of the moon—who know that this earth is dominant; who see it frilled with the loops of the major planets; its Elizabethan ruff wrought by the complications of the asteroids; the busy little sun that brushes off the dark.

God of the moon, when mists make it expressionless—a vast, bland, silvery Buddha.

God of the moon, when seeing is clear—when the disguise is off—when, at night, from pointed white peaks drip the fluctuating red lights of a volcano, this earth is the appalling god of carnivorousness.

Sometimes the great roundish earth, with the heavens behind it broken by refraction, looks like something thrust into a shell from external existence—clouds of tornadoes as if in its grasp—and it looks like the fist of God, clutching rags of ultimate fire and confusion.

That a new prophet had appeared upon the moon, and had excited new hope of evoking response from the bland and shining Stupidity that has so often been mistaken for God, or from the Appalling that is so identified with Divinity—from the clutched and menacing fist that has so often been worshipped.

There is no intelligence except era-intelligence. Suppose the whole geo-system be a super-embryonic thing. Then, by the law of the embryo, its parts can not organize until comes scheduled time. So there are local congeries of development of a chick in 133an egg, but these local centers can not more than faintly sketch out relations with one another, until comes the time when they may definitely integrate. Suppose that far back in the 19th century there were attempts to communicate from the moon; but suppose that they were premature: then we suppose the fate of the protoplasmic threads that feel out too soon from one part of an egg to another. In October, 1866, Schmidt, of Athens, saw and reported in terms of the concepts of his era, and described in conventional selenographic language. See Rept. B. A., 1867.

Upon Dec. 14, 16, 25, 27, 1866, Linné was seen as a white spot. But there was something that had the seeming more of a design, or of a pattern, an elaboration upon the mere turning to white of something that had been black—a fine, black spot upon Linné; by Schmidt and Buckingham, in December, 1866 (The Student, 1-261). The most important consideration of all is reviewed by Schmidt in the Rept. B. A., 1867-22—that sunlight and changes of sunlight had nothing to do with the changing appearances of Linné. Jan. 14, 1867—the white covering, or, at least, seeming of covering, of Linné, had seemingly disappeared—Knott’s impression of Linné as a dark spot, but “definition” was poor. Jan. 16—Knott’s very strong impression, which, however, he says may have been an illusion, of a small central dark spot upon Linné. Dawes’ observation, of March 15, 1867—“an excessively minute black dot in the middle of Linné.”

A geometric figure that was white-bordered and centered with black, formed and dissolved and formed again.

I have an impression of spectacles that were common in the United States, during the War: hosts of persons arranging themselves in living patterns: flags, crosses, and in one instance, in which thousands were engaged, in the representation of an enormous Liberty Bell. Astronomers have thought of trying to communicate with Mars or the moon by means of great geometric constructions placed conspicuously, but there is nothing so attractive to attention as change, and a formation that could appear and disappear would enchance the geometric with the dynamic. That the units of the changing compositions that covered Linné were the lunarians themselves—that Linné was terraced—hosts of the inhabitants of the moon standing upon the ridges of their Cheops of 134the Serene Sea, some of them dressed in white and standing in a border, and some of them dressed in black, centering upon the apex, or the dark material of the apex left clear for the contrast, all of them unified in a hope of conveying an impression of the geometric, as the product of design, and distinguishable from the topographic, to the shining god that makes the stars of their heavens marginal.

It is a period of great activity—or of conflicting ideas and purposes—upon the moon: new and experimental demonstrations, but also, of course, the persistence of the old. In the Astronomical Register, 5-114, Thomas G. Elger writes that upon the 9th of April, 1867, he was surprised to see, upon the dark part of the moon, a light like a star of the 7th magnitude, at 7.30 P. M. It became fainter, and looked almost extinguished at 9 o’clock. Mr. Elger had seen lights upon the moon before, but never before a light so clear—“too bright to be overlooked by the most careless observer.” May 7, 1867—the beacon-like light of Aristarchus—observed by Tempel, of Marseilles, when Aristarchus was upon the dark part of the moon (Astro. Reg., 5-220). Upon the night of June 10, 1867, Dawes saw three distinct, roundish, black spots near Sulpicius Gallus, which is near Linné; when looked for upon the 13th, they had disappeared (The Student, 1-261).

August 6, 1867—

And this earth in the sky of the moon—smooth and bland and featureless earth—or one of the scenes that make it divine and appalling—jaws of this earth, as seem to be rims of more or less parallel mountain ranges, still shining in sunlight, but surrounded by darkness—

And, upon the moon, the assembling of the Chiaroscuroans, or the lunar communicationists who seek to be intelligible to this earth by means of lights and shades, patterned upon Linné by their own forms and costumes. The Great Pyramid of Linné, at night upon the moon—it stands out as a bold black triangularity pointing to this earth. It slowly suffuses white—the upward drift of white-clad forms, upon the slopes of the Pyramid. The jaws of this earth seem to munch, in variable light. There is no other response. Devotions are the food of the gods.

Upon August 6, 1867, Buckingham saw upon Linné, which 135was in darkness, “a rising oval spot” (Rept. B. A., 1867-7). In October, 1867, Linné was seen as a convex white spot (Rept. B. A., 1867-8).

Also it may be that the moon is not inhabited, and is not habitable. There are many astronomers who say that the moon has virtually no atmosphere, because when a star is passed over by the moon, the star is not refracted, according to them. See Clerke’s History of Astronomy, p. 264—that, basing his calculations upon the fact that a star is never refracted out of place when occulted by the moon, Prof. Comstock, of Washburn Observatory, had determined that this earth’s atmosphere is 5,000 times as dense as the moon’s.

I did think that in this secondary survey of ours we had pretty well shaken off our old opposition, the astronomers: however, with something of the kindliness that one feels for renewed meeting with the familiar, here we are at home with the same old kind of demonstrations: the basing of laborious calculations upon something that is not so—

See index of Monthly Notices, R. A. S.—many instances of stars that have been refracted out of place when occulted by the moon. See the Observatory, 24-210, 313, 315, 345, 414; English Mechanic, 23-197, 279; 26-229; 52-index, “atmosphere”; 81-60; 84-161; 85-108.

In the year 1821, Gruithuisen announced that he had discovered a city of the moon. He described its main thoroughfare and branching streets. In 1826, he announced that there had been considerable building, and that he had seen new streets. This formation, which is north of the crater Schroeter, has often been examined by disagreeing astronomers: for a sketch of it, in which a central line and radiating lines are shown, see the English Mechanic, 18-638. There is one especial object upon the moon that has been described and photographed and sketched so often that I shall not go into the subject. For many records of observations, see the English Mechanic and L’Astronomie. It is an object shaped like a sword, near the crater Birt. Anyone with an impression of the transept of a cathedral, may see the architectural here. Or it may be a mound similar to the mounds of 136North America that have so logically been attributed to the Mound Builders. In a letter, published in the Astronomical Register, 20-167, Mr. Birmingham calls attention to a formation that suggests the architectural upon the moon—“a group of three hills in a slightly acute-angled triangle, and connected by three lower embankments.” There is a geometric object, or marking, shaped like an “X,” in the crater Eratosthenes (Sci. Amer. Sup., 59-24, 469); striking symbolic-looking thing or sign, or attempt by means of something obviously not topographic, to attract attention upon this earth, in the crater Plinius (Eng. Mec., 35-34); reticulations, like those of a city’s squares, in Plato (Eng. Mec., 64-253); and there is a structural-looking composition of angular lines in Gassendi (Eng. Mec., 101-466). Upon the floor of Littrow are six or seven spots arranged in the form of the Greek letter Gamma (Eng. Mec., 101-47). This arrangement may be of recent origin, having been discovered Jan. 31, 1915. The Greek letter makes difficulty only for those who do not want to think easily upon this subject. For a representation of something that looked like a curved wall upon the moon, see L’Astronomie, 1888-110. As to appearances like viaducts, see L’Astronomie, 1885-213. The lunar craters are not in all instances the simple cirques that they are commonly supposed to be. I have many different impressions of some of them: I remember one sketch that looked like an owl with a napkin tucked under his beak. However, it may be that the general style of architecture upon the moon is Byzantine, very likely, or not so likely, domed with glass, giving the dome-effect that has so often been commented upon.

So then the little nearby moon—and it is populated by Lilliputians. However our experience with agreeing ideas having been what it has been, we suspect that the lunarians are giants. Having reasonably determined that the moon is one hundred miles in diameter, we suppose it is considerably more or less.

A group of astronomers had been observing extraordinary lights in the lunar crater Plato. The lights had definite arrangement. They were so individualized that Birt and Elger, and the other selenographers, who had combined to study them, had charted and 137numbered them. They were fixed in position, but rose and fell in intensity.

It does seem to me that we have data of one school of communicationists after another coming into control of efforts upon the moon. At first our data related to single lights. They were extraordinary, and they seem to me to have been signals, but there seemed to be nothing of the organization that now does seem to be creeping into the fragmentary material that is the best that we can find. The grouped lights in Plato were so distinctive, so clear and even brilliant, that if such lights had ever shone before, it seems that they must have been seen by the Schroeters, Gruithuisens, Beers and Mädlers, who had studied and charted the features of the moon. For several of Gledhill’s observations, from which I derive my impressions of these lights, see Rept. B. A., 1871-80—“I can only liken them to the small discs of stars, seen in the transit-instrument”; “just like small stars in the transit instrument, upon a windy night!”

In August and September, 1869, occurred a notable illumination of the spots in Group I. It was accompanied by a single light upon a distant spot. February and March, 1870—illumination of another group.

April 17, 1870—another illumination in Plato, but back to the first group.

As to his observations of May 10-12, 1870, Birt gives his opinion that the lights of Plato were not effects of sunlight.

Upon the 13th of May, 1870, there was an “extraordinary display,” according to Birt: 27 lights were seen by Pratt, and 28 by Elger, but only 4 by Gledhill, in Brighton. Atmospheric conditions may have made this difference, or the lights may have run up or down a scale from 4 to 28. As to independence of sunlight, Pratt says (Rept. B. A., 1871-88) as to this display, that only the fixed, charted points so shone, and that other parts of the crater were not illuminated, as they would have been to an incidence common throughout. In Pratt’s opinion, and, I think, in the opinion of the other observers, these lights were volcanic. It seems to me that this opinion arose from a feeling that there should be something of an opinion: the idea that the lights might have been signals was not expressed by any of these astronomers 138that I know of. I note that, though many observers were, at this time, concentrating upon this one crater, there are no records findable by me of such disturbance of detail as might be supposed to accompany volcanic action. The clear little lights seem to me to have been anything but volcanic.

The play of these lights of Plato—their modulations and their combinations—like luminous music—or a composition of signals in a code that even in this late day may be deciphered. It was like orchestration—and that something like a baton gave direction to Light 22, upon August 12, 1870, to shine a leading part—“remarkable increase of brightness.” No. 22 subsided, and the leading part shone out in No. 14. It, too, subsided, and No. 16 brightened.