An Inhabitant of the Planet Mars

by Henri de Parville

  “When these intermolecular movements are produced in circumstances of a particular mass and velocity, they affect the eye; the undulations of these subtle little atmospheres strike the retina and cause the worlds that constitute it to vibrate in their turn. We see; we feel a luminous impression. I shall, moreover, come back to this point later in the discussion. I am not sorry to have shown that geologists, or rather mineralogists, are astronomers, veritable astronomers; they are occupied in molecular astronomy, instead of extending their explorations into the infinite spaces appropriate to the span of human sight.

  “The only difference in is the order of grandeur. If there are animals on Earth that are infinitely tiny and intelligent, there might be veritable astronomers among them whose discoveries would bring the same enlightenment as ours to the celestial mechanics of those little Lilliputian worlds.

  “I will further add, without fear of contradiction by astronomers, or even more so by mineralogists, that astronomy is, although it may not appear to be, dependent on mineralogy—and on the day when we shall have discovered the laws regulating molecular groups, the laws that govern the movements of the infinitely small, the astronomers will have no longer have anything to do but follow us.”

  Mr. Newbold: “You have just shown, gentlemen….”

  (“Louder!”)

  “….that the smallest particles of bodies are nothing but the reduced image of those great celestial bodies that whirl in the skies; but the Earth itself is nothing but a particle—a molecule, even—in the mass that we designate with the name Milky Way. We have there, writ very large, and very easy to study in consequence, a type of molecule that informs us of the physically-exact appearance of the least of the infinitely small molecules whose aggregation forms all the bodies that we see. We have only to pass from the great to the small to know what is happening in the infinitesimal molecular interstices that escape our most powerful instruments.

  “What is the Earth? A sphere with a radius of 1,500 leagues,22 whose constituent parts are continually augmented in density from the surface to the center. Since its origin, its materials have taken their places according to their density, the heaviest ones at the center, the lighter ones at the circumference. The floor on which we walk, the ground—a veritable rind, rigid and elastic—is no more than a thin pellicule, less heavy than that which precedes it. It is a raft continually floating on the internal matter; one can get an idea of its thickness by comparing it to the skin of a peach.

  “At the center, the matter has more mass; its movements are more rapid; the temperature is higher. The higher one climbs, the less dense the matter becomes and its movements diminish in rapidity, communicating more easily with the loose matter distributed in space, and the temperature is much less. It even becomes low enough at a certain point for the material molecules to draw closer to one another and be juxtaposed tightly enough to form rigid ground; that is the Earth’s crust.

  “Beyond that, the temperature is variable, directly submissive to the influence of the Sun! Matter is more rarefied, bodies are gaseous; the aerial atmosphere succeeds the terrestrial crust and again one finds, as in the interior, a similar scale of density, much more matter being close to the surface than in the elevated layers. The aerial fluid also becomes more and more rarefied, confounded at its limit with the extremely tenuous matter that fills interplanetary space.”

  (“We can’t hear!”)

  “The following figures will give some idea of the successive decrease of the mass of matter from the center to the periphery:

  Terrestrial globe Atmosphere

  10, 8, 6, 4, 2, 1 1/2,000, 1/4,000, 1/6,000, 1/8,000

  “There is, as these proportions show, an abrupt transition at the surface. The disparate matter that is not included the scheme and which, in consequence, has less mass, overlies it.

  “There is an excess of matter forced back to the surface by internal reactions: a sort of backwash. Little by little, this excess of matter finds its place in the interior, it settles back slowly, is organized and disappears.23

  “The atmospheres of all the planets, in the immensity of time, are successively reduced in this manner; they condense by degrees, entering into stable combination. It should not astonish us, therefore, to see the heights of atmospheres diminishing progressively and their limits becoming more and more confused with the subtle and impalpable matter of the interplanetary medium.

  “What I have just said, gentlemen, about our noble globe in particular—the terrestrial molecule—applies equally to all stars, all planetary molecules and all the constituent molecules of bodies. We shall find the same details, the same characteristics and the same laws in the myriads of particles that make up this table on which I am leaning, this hand, that inkwell, and all the objects that surround me.

  “Lift up, by means of Archimedes’ lever, any one of these little miniature worlds—the molecule that forms this grain of sugar, for example—and see it with 100 million times stronger than yours. That molecule, you have been told, is an assemblage of exceedingly tiny worlds—of atoms, if you wish to give them a name. But notice how beautiful it is. Here is our entire planetary system. There is the principal world, the Sun, then the secondary planets turning around it with vertiginous speed. Grasp the details and suppose that, with a pair of tweezers—incontestably gigantic relative to this sublime tenuousness—you were to seize one of these little worlds.

  “It would be catastrophic, if you were able to do it, for to seize a world would be to destroy the equilibrium necessary to the existence of the ensemble. You would take away the movement with which it is endowed; you would annihilate it. Let us suppose it nevertheless.

  “Well, you will find that it has an atmosphere and a solid crust, or, at the very least, matter that is more condensed, and, if you go towards the center, you will see the successive layers of that imperceptible atom disposed once again in order of density. Thus, a nucleus of condensed matter and an atmosphere of decreasing density make up the molecular world, the atom.

  “Put these little worlds together and you will see them rotating with their atmospheres; you will have the molecules. Bring all the molecules together, and you will have the particle; you will have matter, with its form, as the eye perceives it.

  “I have insisted, for my part, gentlemen, on this capital point, because, as you will understand, mineralogy and astronomy are not alone in sharing the privilege of this study. Geology provides the key to the intimate and primordial composition of matter. By means of deductions that are integral to it, it is permissible to go as far as the formation of the elements of bodies, and from there to ascend as far as the phenomena of chemical affinity, cohesion and elasticity.

  “That is what I shall try to do, and to prove, on a more propitious occasion. It is necessary that the discussion does not stray too far.”24

  Mr. Siemen: “I thank our honorable president for the very interesting details that he has seen fit to provide to confirm my thesis. I hope that it might clarify more than one scientific matter that is still obscure.”

  Mr. Stek: “Will Mr. President be good enough to tell me whether, in his opinion, there are also mountains and upheavals on these little molecular worlds—whether the geological revolutions that have upset our world similarly afflict and modify their surfaces?”

  Mr. Newbold: “That will not embarrass anyone, Mr. Stek. The causes that hold good on Earth also apply to the world of the infinitely small. The interior reactions proportionate to the size of these atomic planets must produce similar modifications, altering the surface—or, at the very least, the most resistant part of it, which must be curved and lifted upwards in consequence of the forces in play. There are mountains and valleys, of that you may be sure—and what’s more, that their direction and accidents are obedient to fixed and immutable laws. Must I remind you that on Earth, as I believe has been proven by someone that no one knows better than me, that there was not a single mountain chain whose direction was determined by chance? All mo
untains are directed according to firmly fixed axes.25 Better still, one of my friends whom I regret not seeing among us, chief-engineer Mr. Nuevopolis,26 has deduced admirably symmetrical facts from that. There is no longer any petty accident of the Earth’s surface, be it a mountain pass, a river’s mouth, a gorge, a spring or a mine, whose exact position cannot be determined mathematically. The anfractuosities of the ground, the depressions—everything is formed according to a deterministic law. That butte that hides the horizon from you, that hill, that valley, were they planted there by blind hazard?

  “No, a thousand times no. All is harmony. Disorder is only apparent. Mr. Nuevopolis has brought that singular law, among other facts, into sharp relief, by discovering that every important accident, whether it be a spring, a node or a volcano, is always found at four-tenths of the total length of the envisaged group. If it is a river, describe a straight line between the mouth to the source. Mark the four-tenths; it is certain that that you will encounter there the most obvious accident in the water’s course. Similarly for a mountain chain, a seam of ore, etc.

  “I can see no reason, Mr. Stek, why this curious symmetry should not also apply to molecules and molecular stars. All these undulations of the ground are merely the results of the vibration of matter; they obey the laws of musical harmony. And the phenomenon that causes a plate vibrating under the influence of a bow to remain in its place also causes certain parts of the ground to lift up and others to sink down, or not to quit their initial position.

  “The laws of music are also those of geology. Everything is in everything. There is but one universal principle that animates matter, which gives it its different forms and its different properties.”

  (“Good! Very good! We can hear!”)

  Mr. Greenwight: “Mr. President, the very important and very interesting considerations that our honorable colleagues and you have explained so well lead directly to astronomical applications of great philosophical significance. If the commission finds that the geological debate is exhausted, and if the geologists will authorize us to regard the rock discovered by Mr. Paxton has authentically extraterrestrial in origin, I ask for the floor to enter directly upon my subject and reveal the phases through which the celestial planets must necessarily pass, in order to address the question of the point in our sky from which this voluminous stone meteorite fell, whose presence here might modify existing ideas regarding the course and the equilibrium of heavenly bodies in the medium of space.”

  The large clock of Paxton House then sounded its seven sonorous chimes. The Sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. “Tomorrow! Tomorrow!” was the cry from several benches.

  “Tomorrow, gentlemen!” roared the honorable astronomer, in sympathy. “The session has certainly been long, and I, more than anyone, will be happy to put an end to it.”

  Mr. Newbold: “The floor is accorded to Mr. Greenwight, and the session is ended.”

  (Ripples of laughter.)

  It is a privilege granted to the great geologist to nominate the speaker and, when he feels disposed to yawn, to end the session. He thus gives satisfaction to the postulant and himself.

  Enough for now. I fear that I might miss the boat to Fort Mann and the courier.

  LETTER V

  The floor is Mr. Greenwight’s. Matter and motion. How are worlds made? The life of the stars. Transformation of stars. How certain astronomers can still witness the birth of our solar system in the present day. Why is the Earth not brunette, Venus blonde, Mercury red-headed and Mars albino?

  The discussion is going much more quickly than my correspondence. By way of compensation and in order not to abuse your hospitality I shall, to some extent, follow the example of reporters for daily newspapers with regard to legislative debates. I shall resume the discussion, while allowing it to retain its own character, in the fashion that debates inserted in extenso in the Moniteur are continued; I shall similarly leap directly to the next session in order to gain ground.

  The floor has been give to Mr. Greenwight.

  Mr. Greenwight: “Until now, gentlemen, we have been talking about the infinitely small in nature; in my turn, I want to say something about the infinitely large. Mr. Sieman and Mr. Newbold, our honorable president, have perfectly summarized our knowledge and our theories regarding the constitution of matter; I hope that I might be permitted to draw consequences therefrom regarding the constitution of the universe, which I believe to be important, and then, with the agreement of the naturalists present, consequences regarding life on the planets.

  “Matter, primitively attenuated and in the state of independent atoms, once filled space, inert and immobile. The Creator imparted movement to it, communicating to it a certain quantity of force, forever imperishable. That initial force and the matter was the point of departure of all the transformations that have ever been, are, and ever will be.27

  “All the physical forces that we see acting in the universe are only different manifestations of combinations of matter and the quantity of motions that it possesses. In the beginning, the independent atoms were obedient to the resultant of the forces that solicit them. They grouped themselves in regions and about centers, turning around one another according to the laws of mechanics. Thus was formed in places what we call cosmic matter, the veritable egg or embryo of a world.

  “Condensed matter aggregated and continued its route through space, but, as time went by, an elastic reaction took effect; the quantity of motion of each cosmic center diminished, being transmitted elsewhere and affecting new independent atoms. The force that was lost here was gained elsewhere; that is the ordinary state of affairs in this world—nothing is stable.

  “At the point of origin, each group was animated by such a velocity that the constituent atoms rotated in extremely elongated trajectories. You know that motion and heat are synonymous; the latter is merely a manifestation of the former; it will not astonish you, therefore, that in that era, condensed matter was in a vaporous state. Eventually, however, as we have said, motion was necessarily lost, and so, in consequence, was heat. Matter cooled down; its constituent atoms circulated in tighter trajectories. Matter became liquid, and a world, disengaging from its first indecisive vapors finally showed itself in its spherical form. We say a world, but we should say worlds, for the condensed matter emerged, as it cooled, at several centers of action, and, in consequence, as many heavenly bodies, as many worlds.

  “Note that the quantity of motion lost by that embryonic world—to follow but one among many—was rigorously and exactly gained by another center of action. That which had led to the liquid form here, and had contributed to the advancement of the world, determined another grouping of independent atoms elsewhere: an agglomeration of matter in a vaporous state, a new embryo destined to pass through different phases like the preceding one and eventually to transmit its force to another center of action. And so on, indefinitely!

  “Time passes, and the embryonic world that we have picked out from all these condensations of matter at work loses more and more motion; the atoms agglomerate and form various combinations, all the while conserving their primitive directions. Molecules are born; then, eventually, all those particular groupings that affect our sight and give us the various sensations corresponding to the various natural bodies. These are the little worlds that you have previously established so well. The heavenly body takes form; it gradually solidifies its surface in this fashion, and the screen thus formed greatly retards the loss of motion, and therefore the cooling of the matter.

  “Thus you have seen it born; it lives; it has had its youth and its age of virility; it will have its old age; it will die. Let us follow it through this series of transformations.

  “It will grow cooler incessantly; the physical conditions in which it finds itself will never cease to vary, from the most elevated temperature to the greatest cold we can imagine. Eventually, there will certainly come a time when it will have no further quantity of motion to lose; it will possess exactly as much of i
t as the subtle and tenuous matter composed of the independent atoms that fill space. Its temperature will be that of interplanetary space. It will have attained the final limit of life; a little further and it will be no more. It is, indeed, quite dead, but its matter nevertheless remains agglomerated and condensed for a long time—but not forever, for in that case all of space would gradually congeal and become solid, which would exclude the idea of the perpetuation of force.

  “No, we must not forget that it is not alone in the group; it is only one stone in the edifice; the worlds that have the same origin, but which still possess life—motion—will yield and receive it in such a fashion as to disaggregate, so equilibrium is maintained. The quantity of motion is the same; the condensed matter has no more impulsion than the free and independent matter of space; it recovers its liberty; the atoms disaggregate; the molecular groupings cease. The world vanishes; the construction collapses; only its materials subsist, to enter into new combinations elsewhere and to submit to new metamorphoses. From death, life is reborn. Everything is in everything.

  “You see, gentlemen, that matter is drawn here, there and everywhere from the bosom of space, brought together by the initial force, then separated by the same force, taken elsewhere, recomposed again, and there is a perpetual labor of construction and destruction. One might say that there is not one grain of sand, not one molecule so infinitesimal that it is not obedient in every respect to that necessary and immutable law. Secondary forces make it and unmake it. In a word, matter and motion comprise nature entire.”