A Journey in Other Worlds [108]
that it existed. Cassandra takes, in round numbers, a
thousand years to complete its orbit, and from it the sun, though
brighter, appears no larger than the earth's evening or morning
star. Cassandra has also three large moons; but these, when
full, shine with a pale-grey light, like the old moon in the new
moon's arms, in that terrestrial phenomenon when the earth, by
reflecting the crescent's light, and that of the sun, makes the
dark part visible. The temperature at Cassandra's surface is but
little above the cold of space, and no water exists in the liquid
state, it being as much a solid as aluminum or glass. There are
rivers and lakes, but these consist of liquefied hydrogen and
other gases, the heavier liquid collected in deep Places, and the
lighter, with less than half the specific gravity of ether,
floating upon it without mixing, as oil on water. When the
heavier penetrates to a sufficient depth, the interior being
still warm, it is converted into gas and driven back to the
surface, only to be recondensed on reaching the upper air. Thus
it may happen that two rains composed of separate liquids may
fall together. There being but little of any other atmosphere,
much of it consists of what you might call the vapour of
hydrogen, and many of the well-known gases and liquids on earth
exist only as liquids and solids; so that, were there mortal
inhabitants on Cassandra, they might build their houses of blocks
of oxygen or chlorine, as you do of limestone or marble, and use
ice that never melts, in place of glass, for transparence. They
would also use mercury for bullets in their rifles, just as
inhabitants of the intra-Vulcan planets at the other extreme
might, if their bodies consisted of asbestos, or were in any
other way non-combustibly constituted, bathe in tin, lead, or
even zinc, which ordinarily exist in the liquid state, as water
and mercury do on the earth.
"Though Cassandra's atmosphere, such as it is, is mostly clear,
for the evaporation from the rivers and icy mediterraneans is
slight, the brightness of even the highest noon is less than an
earthly twilight, and the stars never cease to shine. The dark
base of the rocky cliffs is washed by the frigid tide, but there
is scarcely a sound, for the pebbles cannot be moved by the
weightless waves, and an occasional murmur is all that is heard.
Great rocks of ice reflect the light of the grey moons, and never
a leaf falls or a bird sings. With the exception of the mournful
ripples, the planet is silent as the grave. The animal and plant
kingdoms do not exist; only the mineral and spiritual worlds. I
say spiritual, because there are souls upon it; but it is the
home of the condemned in hell. Here dwell the transgressors who
died unrepentant, and those who were not saved by faith. This is
the one instance in which I do not enjoy my developed sight, for
I sometimes glance in their direction, and the vision that meets
me, as my eyes focus, distresses my soul. Their senses are like
an imperfect mirror, magnifying all that is bad in one another,
and distorting anything still partially good when that exists.
All those things that might at least distract them are hollow,
their misery being the inevitable result of the condition of mind
to which they became accustomed on earth and which brought them
to Cassandra. But let us turn to something brighter.
"Though the solar system may seem complex, the sun is but a star
among the millions in the Milky Way, and, compared with the
planetary systems of Sirius, the stars of the Southern Cross, and
the motions of the nebula, it is simplicity itself. Compared
with the splendour of Sirius, with its diameter of twelve million
miles, the sun, measuring but eight hundred and forty thousand,
becomes insignificant; and this giant's system includes groups
and clusters of planets, many with three times the mass of
Jupiter, five and six together, each a different colour,
revolving about a common centre, while they swing about their
primary. Their numerous
thousand years to complete its orbit, and from it the sun, though
brighter, appears no larger than the earth's evening or morning
star. Cassandra has also three large moons; but these, when
full, shine with a pale-grey light, like the old moon in the new
moon's arms, in that terrestrial phenomenon when the earth, by
reflecting the crescent's light, and that of the sun, makes the
dark part visible. The temperature at Cassandra's surface is but
little above the cold of space, and no water exists in the liquid
state, it being as much a solid as aluminum or glass. There are
rivers and lakes, but these consist of liquefied hydrogen and
other gases, the heavier liquid collected in deep Places, and the
lighter, with less than half the specific gravity of ether,
floating upon it without mixing, as oil on water. When the
heavier penetrates to a sufficient depth, the interior being
still warm, it is converted into gas and driven back to the
surface, only to be recondensed on reaching the upper air. Thus
it may happen that two rains composed of separate liquids may
fall together. There being but little of any other atmosphere,
much of it consists of what you might call the vapour of
hydrogen, and many of the well-known gases and liquids on earth
exist only as liquids and solids; so that, were there mortal
inhabitants on Cassandra, they might build their houses of blocks
of oxygen or chlorine, as you do of limestone or marble, and use
ice that never melts, in place of glass, for transparence. They
would also use mercury for bullets in their rifles, just as
inhabitants of the intra-Vulcan planets at the other extreme
might, if their bodies consisted of asbestos, or were in any
other way non-combustibly constituted, bathe in tin, lead, or
even zinc, which ordinarily exist in the liquid state, as water
and mercury do on the earth.
"Though Cassandra's atmosphere, such as it is, is mostly clear,
for the evaporation from the rivers and icy mediterraneans is
slight, the brightness of even the highest noon is less than an
earthly twilight, and the stars never cease to shine. The dark
base of the rocky cliffs is washed by the frigid tide, but there
is scarcely a sound, for the pebbles cannot be moved by the
weightless waves, and an occasional murmur is all that is heard.
Great rocks of ice reflect the light of the grey moons, and never
a leaf falls or a bird sings. With the exception of the mournful
ripples, the planet is silent as the grave. The animal and plant
kingdoms do not exist; only the mineral and spiritual worlds. I
say spiritual, because there are souls upon it; but it is the
home of the condemned in hell. Here dwell the transgressors who
died unrepentant, and those who were not saved by faith. This is
the one instance in which I do not enjoy my developed sight, for
I sometimes glance in their direction, and the vision that meets
me, as my eyes focus, distresses my soul. Their senses are like
an imperfect mirror, magnifying all that is bad in one another,
and distorting anything still partially good when that exists.
All those things that might at least distract them are hollow,
their misery being the inevitable result of the condition of mind
to which they became accustomed on earth and which brought them
to Cassandra. But let us turn to something brighter.
"Though the solar system may seem complex, the sun is but a star
among the millions in the Milky Way, and, compared with the
planetary systems of Sirius, the stars of the Southern Cross, and
the motions of the nebula, it is simplicity itself. Compared
with the splendour of Sirius, with its diameter of twelve million
miles, the sun, measuring but eight hundred and forty thousand,
becomes insignificant; and this giant's system includes groups
and clusters of planets, many with three times the mass of
Jupiter, five and six together, each a different colour,
revolving about a common centre, while they swing about their
primary. Their numerous