I would tell him that, according to some illustrious men of
science, nature has furnished us with instances upon the earth
of animals existing under very varying conditions of life;
that fish respire in a medium fatal to other animals; that
amphibious creatures possess a double existence very difficult
of explanation; that certain denizens of the seas maintain life
at enormous depths, and there support a pressure equal to that
of fifty or sixty atmospheres without being crushed; that
several aquatic insects, insensible to temperature, are met with
equally among boiling springs and in the frozen plains of the
Polar Sea; in fine, that we cannot help recognizing in nature a
diversity of means of operation oftentimes incomprehensible, but
not the less real. If I were a chemist, I would tell him that
the aerolites, bodies evidently formed exteriorly of our
terrestrial globe, have, upon analysis, revealed indisputable
traces of carbon, a substance which owes its origin solely to
organized beings, and which, according to the experiments of
Reichenbach, must necessarily itself have been endued with
animation. And lastly, were I a theologian, I would tell him
that the scheme of the Divine Redemption, according to St. Paul,
seems to be applicable, not merely to the earth, but to all the
celestial worlds. But, unfortunately, I am neither theologian,
nor chemist, nor naturalist, nor philosopher; therefore, in my
absolute ignorance of the great laws which govern the universe,
I confine myself to saying in reply, `I do not know whether the
worlds are inhabited or not: and since I do not know, I am going
to see!'”
Whether Michel Ardan’s antagonist hazarded any further arguments
or not it is impossible to say, for the uproarious shouts of the
crowd would not allow any expression of opinion to gain a hearing.
On silence being restored, the triumphant orator contented himself
with adding the following remarks:
“Gentlemen, you will observe that I have but slightly touched
upon this great question. There is another altogether different
line of argument in favor of the habitability of the stars,
which I omit for the present. I only desire to call attention
to one point. To those who maintain that the planets are _not_
inhabited one may reply: You might be perfectly in the right,
if you could only show that the earth is the best possible
world, in spite of what Voltaire has said. She has but _one_
satellite, while Jupiter, Uranus, Saturn, Neptune have each
several, an advantage by no means to be despised. But that
which renders our own globe so uncomfortable is the inclination
of its axis to the plane of its orbit. Hence the inequality of
days and nights; hence the disagreeable diversity of the seasons.
On the surface of our unhappy spheroid we are always either too
hot or too cold; we are frozen in winter, broiled in summer;
it is the planet of rheumatism, coughs, bronchitis; while on the
surface of Jupiter, for example, where the axis is but slightly
inclined, the inhabitants may enjoy uniform temperatures.
It possesses zones of perpetual springs, summers, autumns, and
winters; every Jovian may choose for himself what climate he
likes, and there spend the whole of his life in security from
all variations of temperature. You will, I am sure, readily
admit this superiority of Jupiter over our own planet, to say
nothing of his years, which each equal twelve of ours!
Under such auspices and such marvelous conditions of existence,
it appears to me that the inhabitants of so fortunate a world
must be in every respect superior to ourselves. All we require,
in order to attain such perfection, is the mere trifle of having
an axis of rotation less inclined to the plane of its orbit!”
“Hurrah!” roared an energetic voice, “let us unite our efforts,
invent the necessary machines, and rectify the earth’s axis!”
A thunder of applause followed this proposal, the author of
which was, of course, no other than J. T. Maston. And, in all
probability, if the truth must be told, if the Yankees could
only have found a point of application for it, they would have
constructed a lever capable of raising the earth and rectifying