have invented the swiftness of the cannon-ball, a hundred times
superior to that of the swiftest horses or railway train.
How glorious will be the moment when, infinitely exceeding all
hitherto attained velocities, we shall launch our new projectile
with the rapidity of seven miles a second! Shall it not,
gentlemen– shall it not be received up there with the honors
due to a terrestrial ambassador?”
Overcome with emotion the orator sat down and applied himself to
a huge plate of sandwiches before him.
“And now,” said Barbicane, “let us quit the domain of poetry and
come direct to the question.”
“By all means,” replied the members, each with his mouth full
of sandwich.
“The problem before us,” continued the president, “is how to
communicate to a projectile a velocity of 12,000 yards per second.
Let us at present examine the velocities hitherto attained.
General Morgan will be able to enlighten us on this point.”
“And the more easily,” replied the general, “that during the war
I was a member of the committee of experiments. I may say,
then, that the 100-pounder Dahlgrens, which carried a distance
of 5,000 yards, impressed upon their projectile an initial
velocity of 500 yards a second. The Rodman Columbiad threw a
shot weighing half a ton a distance of six miles, with a
velocity of 800 yards per second– a result which Armstrong and
Palisser have never obtained in England.”
“This,” replied Barbicane, “is, I believe, the maximum velocity
ever attained?”
“It is so,” replied the general.
“Ah!” groaned J. T. Maston, “if my mortar had not burst—-”
“Yes,” quietly replied Barbicane, “but it did burst. We must
take, then, for our starting point, this velocity of 800 yards.
We must increase it twenty-fold. Now, reserving for another
discussion the means of producing this velocity, I will call
your attention to the dimensions which it will be proper to
assign to the shot. You understand that we have nothing to do
here with projectiles weighing at most but half a ton.”
“Why not?” demanded the major.
“Because the shot,” quickly replied J. T. Maston, “must be big
enough to attract the attention of the inhabitants of the moon,
if there are any?”
“Yes,” replied Barbicane, “and for another reason more important still.”
“What mean you?” asked the major.
“I mean that it is not enough to discharge a projectile, and
then take no further notice of it; we must follow it throughout
its course, up to the moment when it shall reach its goal.”
“What?” shouted the general and the major in great surprise.
“Undoubtedly,” replied Barbicane composedly, “or our experiment
would produce no result.”
“But then,” replied the major, “you will have to give this
projectile enormous dimensions.”
“No! Be so good as to listen. You know that optical
instruments have acquired great perfection; with certain
instruments we have succeeded in obtaining enlargements of 6,000
times and reducing the moon to within forty miles’ distance.
Now, at this distance, any objects sixty feet square would be
perfectly visible.
“If, then, the penetrative power of telescopes has not been
further increased, it is because that power detracts from their
light; and the moon, which is but a reflecting mirror, does not
give back sufficient light to enable us to perceive objects of
lesser magnitude.”
“Well, then, what do you propose to do?” asked the general.
“Would you give your projectile a diameter of sixty feet?”
“Not so.”
“Do you intend, then, to increase the luminous power of the moon?”
“Exactly so. If I can succeed in diminishing the density of the
atmosphere through which the moon’s light has to travel I shall
have rendered her light more intense. To effect that object it
will be enough to establish a telescope on some elevated mountain.
That is what we will do.”
“I give it up,” answered the major. “You have such a way of
simplifying things. And what enlargement do you expect to
obtain in this way?”
“One of 48,000 times, which should bring the moon within an
apparent distance of five miles; and, in order to be visible,
objects need not have a diameter of more than nine feet.”
“So, then,” cried J. T. Maston, “our projectile need not be more