Our satellite is so near
us that we can see it has no atmosphere and no water, and
therefore cannot be the abode of life like ours. The contrast of
its eternal deadness with the active life around us is great
indeed. Here we have weather of so many kinds that we never tire
of talking about it. But on the moon there is no weather at all.
On our globe so many things are constantly happening that our
thousands of daily journals cannot begin to record them. But on
the dreary, rocky wastes of the moon nothing ever happens. So far
as we can determine, every stone that lies loose on its surface
has lain there through untold ages, unchanged and unmoved.
We cannot speak so confidently of the planets. The most powerful
telescopes yet made, the most powerful we can ever hope to make,
would scarcely shows us mountains, or lakes, rivers, or fields at
a distance of fifty millions of miles. Much less would they show
us any works of man. Pointed at the two nearest planets, Venus and
Mars, they whet our curiosity more than they gratify it.
Especially is this the case with Venus. Ever since the telescope
was invented observers have tried to find the time of rotation of
this planet on its axis. Some have reached one conclusion, some
another, while the wisest have only doubted.
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