Scientific.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 227, 15 January 1876, Page 6

Scientific.

LUNAR WONDERS. . . (From the Graphic.) Paris, October 26.—M, Bastie's process of toughened glass has already been_ productive of valuable results In the arts ; it has been reserved for. M.. !Lastnai-Coreau to. make it still more valuable in the sciences by employing glas3 treated in M. Bastie's way for optical purposes. He has constructed therewith the lenses of a large Gregorian telescope with which he has thus far resolved and, by employing the Rutherford method, has photographed three hitherto unknown nebulce in Argo and four in Scorpio, thus, if not adding largely to the more interesting points in astronomical science, at least showing what may be expected when the optical properties of glass treated according to M. Bastie's process shall have been more fully examined and brought into general use in the observatories. The Bastie glass is in appearance like the ordinary untreated material, but its physical constitution is changed by the increased distance between its molecules effected by the fatty substances enclosed, and as the refraction of light—-the deflection of the waves from their original direction—is effected in a new way among the mingled molecules of the crystalised glass and the colloid oil, it is supposed that it is on this that the great powers of the telescope of Lastnai-Coreau depend. However this may j, e —and it is a matter not yet fully understood—it is settled beyond cavil that, if all shall be accomplished that is reasonably hoped for—there will ere long be so great an increment to our knowledge of the world of space that even the wonderful achievements of the spectroscope shall be eclipsed. Besides the results of which I have already spoken, of the revolution of nebulas not previously seen, the discoveries in regard to lunar topography, and in general to selenography of all kinds, are of the utmost importance. When in Russia astronomers were first turning their attention to that glittering surface on the moon, which was supposed by them to be a huge mirror erected by the lunar inhabitants for the purpose of establishing a sort of telegraphic communication with the people of the earth, it happened that M. Lastnai-Coreau was supervising the near completion of his telescope at the works of M. Eichens, the constructor of the new instrument for the Paris Observatory. He became deeply interested in the matter, although he gave little credence to the report that it had been settled definitely that the shining surface was of artificial origin. On. investigating the subject, he found that, though there was no doubt of the new appearance on the lunar surface, it was probably but a canard which told of anything peculiarly interesting in it. Thus it happened that when his telescope was completed he turned rather to the investigation of the nebulae, always of interest to the astronomer, than to what at first blush would seem the more important subject of the new lunar discovery. But perhaps I am taking too much for granted in supposing that you in America have heard of the discovery of the Russian savants. In brief, it was simply that on the surface of the moon a glittering surface about one hundred feet in diameter was discovered, the changing scintillations of which were plainly due to intelligent beings, as they were rhythmical for certain periods, and then abrupt, their abruptness being like that used in some sorts of telegraphy. From these indications it was regarded as determined that there were intelligent beings on the moon, and of them it was somewhat hastily concluded that they were endeavoring to signal the earth. This is a brief account of the matter.

M. Lastnai-Coreau has turned his telescope on the moon, and has found, indeed, the glittering surface, but has very conclusively shown that its use is not that which has been attributed to it. Without entirely conclusive evidence, it has long been thought that the moon is without an atmosphere, although many have asserted that, on account of the fact that the moon's centre of gravity is some eight miles away from its. centre of sphericity, the air and water of that planet had gravitated to that side of the moon which is never turned towards the earth. Able investigators have shown the falsity of both propositions ; there is an atmosphere on the moon which envelopes it as ours does the earth. From his investigations with his instruments, which practically brings the moon within ten miles of the earth for purposes of obsexwation within a limited area, M. Lastnai-Coreau has shown . that in the moon there are beings shaped generally like men, but much larger, and that ■ thousands of them are working towards some common end with a mirror which, instead of being 100 feet is considerably over 1000 feet in diameter. It is swung on gimbals or gigantic supports in such a way as to turn in any desired direction, and seems to serve many purposes, or at least to be able to serve them. It is concave, and from the fact that it is generally turned in such a direction that its rays strike over an enormous field of what seems to be growing grain, it seems evident that it is used to concentrate the rays of the sun in such a way as to render possible the growth of crops on.the moon, which is cold and in most places barren, a 3 it has hitherto been stipposed to be in all places. What a hothouse is in winter on the earth the mirror of the lunar men is to them, save that it supplies them with food by concentrating the rays of light and heat and throwing them upon the fields. As it turns, often a nea.rly unbearable light like that of the sun has been thrown on the eyes of the observer, so that at times he is forced to observe with a colored glass over the objectglass of his instrument. He describes the men as looking like a colony of gigantic miners living in huts, upon which at stated hours- — hence the observed regularity of the signalling —the light and warmth are permitted to fall. At other times the rays of the mirror are concentrated on what looks like black earth, per-

haps with the purpose of warming it and making it suitable for the future raising of other crops. It is indubitable that there-is a lunar atmos 7 phere, since not only do plants J grbw- —and this necessitates an atmosphere like our own—and men live, but M. Lastnai-Coreau has seen gigantic birds wheeling around the awful crags and. above the mighty chasms of the moon. He has seen them descend in flocks towards the grain fields, but also has seen at such times the rays of the mirror turned directly upon them—not slantingly as on the ground, but directly, so that they have fallen lifeless to the earth and eagerly been devoured by the men. It is M. Lastnai-Coreau's opinion that these are convicts or men who for some reason have been banished from the, warmer and more habitable lunar hemispheres to a sort of Siberia, where they must work out their own purposes and live only through their own incalculable exertions. If this supposition be correct, it shows_ that on that portion of the lunar surface which is hidden for ever from us, a high degree of civilisation must have been reached. It seems impossible that this huge mirror could have been constructed by those beings who use it, under the circumstances in which they are now placed, for to construct such a contrivance presupposes the existence of vast foundries and skilled workmen, of food to support them in their work, of a division of labor, and in short of all that we know under the name of civilisation, but a civilisation of a degree of perfection which we at least have not yet reached. There are other considerations which render this great discovery highly probable. The moon, during the long ages since it was ftrai cut off from the earth, has passed through, all the phases of the earth. Meteoric stones which have fallen on the earth show that the celestial bodies are composed of the same substances as the earth. The moon must have passed through changes analogous with those which have taken place in the earth ; it must have had its azoic, paleozoic, and mesozoic ages ; and as time passed on, and it grew into such a condition as that which on earth rendered possible the existence of man, beings like him must have appeared on the moon. Where we now are the lunar men were ages ago, and if they have had that peculiarly human ability to adopt themselves to their surroundings, so that, through climatic changes which killed off less intelligent beings; we are enabled to live on, they would certainly, in modified form, be able to cope with such adverse circumstances which, without human intelligence, would crash off other animals except those which, like the birds seen by M. Lastnai-Coreau, they chose to keep for their own uses. ■ ' ' .- CTnforttinately I can give you no further intelligence in regard to this majestic discovery, for the discoverer refuses at present to divulge further. How one great deed like that of the fabrication of the Bastie glass leads, to others has long been known. In aishort time I hope to visit M. Lastnai-Coreau. at his place in St. Branchier, and to send you; a more extensive account of the grandest discovery of modern times. E. P. Selkirk.

PROFESSOR TYNDALL ON CREATION. i The November number of the Fortmglitly Review contains an article by Professor Tyndall, entitled "Materialism and its Opponents," the spirit of which will be gleaned from the following extracts. The drift of the argument contained in the article is meant as a reply to the numerous objections urged against the famous address delivered by the Professor at Belfast before the British Association : MR. EMERSON. The reader of my small contributions to the literature which deals with the overlapping margins of science and theology will have noticed how frequently I quote Mr. Emerson. I do so mainly because in him we have a poet and a profoundly religious man, who is really and entirely undaunted by the discoveries of science, past, present, or prospective. In his case Poetry, with the joy of a Bacchanal, takes her graver brother Science by the hand and cheers him with laughter. By Emerson scientific conceptions are continually transmuted into the- finer forms and warmer hues of an ideal world. ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE LIFE. Planted in the earth, bathed by the air, and tended by the sun, the tree is traversed by its sap, the cells are formed, the woody fibre is spun, and the whole is woven to a texture wonderful even to the naked eye, but a millionfold more so to microscopic vision. Does consciousness mix in any way. with these processes ? No man can tell. Our only ground for a negative conclusion is the absence of those outward manifestations from which feeling is usually inferred. But even these are not entirely absent. . In the greenhouses of Kew we may see that a leaf can close in response to a proper stimulus as promptly as the human fingers themselves, and while there Dr. Hooker will tell us of the wondrous fly-catch-ing and fly-devouring power of the Diohaea. No man can say that the feelings of the animal are not represented by a drowsier consciousness in the vegetable world. At all events, no line has ever been drawn between the conscious and unconscious for the vegetable shades into the animal by such fine gradations that it is impossible to say where the one ends and the other begins.' OUR EVIDENCES. In all such inquiries we are necessarily limited by our own powers. We observe what our.senses, armed with the aids furnished by science, enable us to observe—nothing more. The evidences as to consciousness in the vegetable world depend wholly upon our capacity to observe and weigh them. Alter the capacity and the evidence would alter too. Would that which to us is a total absence of any manifestation of consciousness be the same to a being with our capacities indefinitely multiplied. To such a being I can imagine not only the

vegetable but the mineral worlds responsive to the proper irritants - the response differing only in degree from those exaggerated manifestations,which,, in virtue of their grossness, our weak powers of observation. . . . Our conclusions, however, must be based not on powers that we can imagine, but upon those that we, possess. What'do they reveal? As the earth and atmosphere offer themselves' as the nutriment of the vegetable world, so does the latter, which contains no constituent not found in ' inorganic nature, offer itself to the animal world. Mixed with certain inorganic substances —water' for example—the vegetable constitutes in the long run the sole sustenance of the animal. Animals may be divided into two classes—the first of which can utilise the vegetable world immediately, having chemical forces strong enough to cope with its most refractory parts ; the second class use the vegetable world mediately—that is to say, after its finer portions have been extracted and stored up by the first. But in neither class have we an atom newly created. The animal world is, so to say, a distillation through the vegetable world, from inorganic nature. From this point of view, all three worlds would constitute a unity in which I picture life as imminent everywhere. Nor am I anxious to shut out the idea that the life here spoken of may be but a subordinate part and function of a higher life, as the living, moving blood is subordinate to the living man. I resist no such idea, as long as it is not dogmatically imposed. Left for the human mind freely to operate upon, the idea has ethical vitality ; but, stiffened into a dogma, the inner force disappears, and the outward yoke of a usurping heirarchy takes its place. The problem before us is, at all events, capable of definite statement. THE ORIGIN OP PIEE. We have on the one hand strong grounds for concluding that the earth was once a molten mass. We now find it not only swathed by an atmosphere and covered by a sea, but also crowded with living things. The question is, How were they introduced ? Certainty may be as unattainable here as Bishop Butler held it to be in matters of religion ; but in the contemplation of probabilities the thoughtful mind is forced to take a side. The conclusion of science, which recognises unbroken causal connection between the past and the present will undoubtedly be that the molten earth contained with it elements of life which grouped themselves into their present forms as the planet cooled. The difficulty and reluctance encountered by this conception arises solely from the fact that the theological conception obtained a prior footing in the human mind. Did the latter depend upon reasoning alone, it could not hold its ground for an hour against its rival. But it is warmed into life and strength by the emotions —by associated hopes, fears, and expectations —and not only by these, which are more or less mean, but by that loftiness of thought and feeling which lifts its possessor above the atmosphere of self, and which the theological idea in its nobler forms has through ages engendered in noble minds. Were not man's origin implicated, we should accept without a murmur the derivation of animal and vegetable life from what we call inorganic matter. The conclusion of pure intellect points this way and no other.' But this purity is troubled by our interests in this life, and by our hopes and fears regarding the life to come. Reason is traversed by the emotions —anger rising in the weaker heads to the height of suggesting that the compendious shooting of the inquirer would be an act agreeable to God and serviceable to man. But this foolishness is more than neutralised by the sympathy .©f the wise ; and in England, at least so long as the courtesy which befit.* an : earnest: theme is adhered to, such sympathy is ever ready for an honest man. \ ,'■' ■ WHAT IS MATTER? Physiologists say that every human being comes from an egg not more than l-120th of an inch in diameter. Is this egg matter ? I hold it to be so, as much as the seed of a fern or of an oak. Nine months go to the making of it into a man. Are the additions made during this period of gestation drawn from matter ? I think so undoubtedly. If there be anything besides matter in the egg, or in the infant subsequently slumbering in the womb, what is it ? I figure it growing in the womb, woven by a something not itself, without conscious, participation on the part of either father or mother, and appearing in due time a living miracle, with all its organs and all their implications. Consider the work accomplished, during these nine months in forming the eye alone, with its lens and its humors and its miraculous retina behind. Consider the ear, with its tympanum cochlea and cortis organ—an instrument of 3000 strings built adjacent to the brain, and employed by it to sift, separate, and interpret antecedent to all consciousness the sonorous tremors of the external work! All thv\ has been accomplised not only without m i y-i contrivance: but without his knowledge, the secret of his own organisation having been withheld from him since his birth in the immeasureable past until the other day. Matter I define as that mysterious thing by which all this is accomplished. How it came to have this power is a question on which I never ventured an opinion. There are men, and they include amongst them some of the best of the. race of men, upon whose minds this mystery falls without producing either warmth or;color. • The "dry light" of the intellect suffices for them, and they live their noble lives untouched by a desire to give the mystery shape or expression. There are, on the other hand, men whose minds are warmed and colored by its presence, and who, under its stimulus, attain to moral heights which have never been overtopped. Different spiritual climates are necessary for the healthy existence of these two classes of men and different climates must be accorded them. The history of humanity however proves the experience of the second class to illustrate the most pervading need. The world will have religion of some kind,

even though it should fly for it to the intellectual whoredom of " spiritualism." What is really wanted is the lifting power of an ideal element in human life. But the free play of this power nrast ■be preceded by its' release from the torn swaddling bands of the past and from the practical materialism of the present. It is now in danger of being strangled by the one or stupefied by the other. I look, however, forward to the time when the strength, insight, and elevation which now visit. us in mere hints and glimpses during moments "of clearness and vigor" shall be the stable and permanent possession of purer and mightier minds than ours—purer and mightier, partly because of their deeper knowledge of matter, and their more faithful conformity to its laws.

MENTAL STRAIN AND OVERWORK. Dr. McCabe, the Resident Physician to the State Criminal Asylum, Dundrum, has published a lecture delivered befor? the MedicoPyschological Association, on " Mental Strain and Overwoi-k." The lecturer thus describes the leading * GENTLEMEN OP THE LONG ROBE : " In the professional class, the most marked examples of strain and overwork are, I believe, to be found amongst successful candidates of the Common Law Bar. With the exception of one calling, to which I shall presently refer, I know of no occupation that makes such severe demands upon the mental powers as that of the barrister in extensive practice. The limited time at his command for mastering his briefs, the exhaustive forensic efforts he has to make in court, the close and sustained attention to be given to the evidence of witnesses, the rapid mental analysis of such evidence with a view to cross-examination, the classification and grouping of facts necessary for a successful address to a jury—all constitute a very severe'strain upon the faculties of attention, memory, and comparison. And it must be remembered that this mental labor and bodily effort have to be endured for hours together, under great physical discomfort in the vitiated atmosphere of a crowded court. Another circumstance which tends to produce mental strain in the overworked members of the Bar is this, that the advocate's highest efforts are often required at a time when he is physically below his average standard of health. Very few persons are endowed with such uniform health and mental vigor as to feel always able to respond to the calls that may be made upon their intellectual powers. Most men, without being actually ill, experience from time to time the consciousness of being below par in respect of their mental energy ; and, indeed, with many persons this feeling amounts to a sense that the discharge of the daily duties of fife has become a burthen that they would fain lay aside for a day or two, and indulge in rest." Dr. McCabe thus speaks of THE GENTLEMEN OP THE .PRESS.

It only remains for me to refer to one calling, peculiarly! the offspring of our modern civilisation, that furnishes cases of mental strain and over-work out of all proportion to the numbers engaged in it. The calling to which I allude includes the members of the Press, and especially those engaged in Parliamentary reporting and writing leading articles. I know of no occupation that produces such an exhaustive drain upon the mental powers and vital energies of those engaged in it. The reporter, like other men, often has his engagements in the day time ; frequently he is occupied in the law courts, and gets through a fair day's work before the Legislature meets in the evening. There his hardest work begins at the hour when others seek that repose that alone can .insure a renewal of nervous power. In the discharge of his duties as a reporter his attention is diverted rapidly from one topic to another. The very art of shorthand writing is in itself a beautiful and intricate example of co-ordinate movement, and calls upon the stored energies, not alone of the brain, but also of the spinal cord. A succession of words strikes upon the auditory nerves, is recorded by the brain in the act of attention, volition sends an impulse to the ganglionic centres presiding over the brachial plexus, and the muscles of the hand faithfully trace the symbols that represent the very words as they fall from the speaker's lips. During this process the exercise of attention is intense, concentrated, and prolonged—the' whole nervous system being in a state of extreme tension. When to this mental effort we add the mechanical labor of afterwards writing out the notes thus taken, a task extending far into the night, we shall not be surprised to find that a condition of mental strain is almost constant amongst the accomplished men thus engaged. The earliest indication of this strain is observed to be an increasing difficulty in fixing the attention ; afterwards many experience a temporary condition approaching to "scrivener's palsy" —a loss of power over the muscles of the ball of the thumb and index finger. The next symptom is connected with congestion of the nervous tunic of the eye, and is evidenced by cerebral congestion with special throbbing of the brows, and occasionally, when writing late at night, the appearance of a crimson spectrum of the letters traced upon the paper. Amongst reporters, when the health breaks down, diabetes is very frequently present. Fortunately for those engaged in this exhaustive occupation, the session only occupies half the year. Amongst leader writers mental strain results in some measure from the character of the intellectual work they have to perform, but still more from the circumstances under which it has to be executed. In the first place, the writing of leading articles is a task requiring almost the highest intellectual gifts. The writer is supposed to possess a complete knowledge of subjects the most intricate and diverse, as well as a very uncommon power of condensing that knowledge within narrow limits and under an attractive form. If leading articles could be produced at perfect leisure and in the solitude of the study, half the difficulties would disappear ; but it is to be remembered that the conditions

under which such articles are very frequently written are in the last degree unfavorable to the writer. . A debate of great political importance takes place in either House and is not concluded before midnight, or telegraphic despatches of grave importance reach the editor long after midnight. The leader writer who deals with the debate must there and then master the views of each speaker, and write his article amidst interruptions of every kind ; the writer who has to deal with the telegraphic news is expected, in an interval that is to be counted by minutes, to produce a brief essay of consummate merit, showing the bearings and importance of the latest news. Both writers work under the pressure of the consciousness that every moment is of importance. It is no ea=<y task under these circumstances to •concentrate the -whole mind upon what has to be done, and to abstract the attention from the conversation going on around. Worst of all to the writer's nervous system is the sense of hurry ; 'it is the pace that kills,' whether the effort be across the Epsom Downs or in the field of literature. The constant recurrence of these sudden calls upon the stored energies of the leader writer renders his occupation one of an exhausting nature, and exposes him to all the bad effects of mental strain."