The Moon is the Earth’s only satellite, and
by far the nearest body in space to our Earth.
Many astronomers are inclined to think that
the Moon at one time formed a part of the
Earth, but was wrenched away from it, leaving
a huge cavity, which is now occupied by the
Pacific Ocean. The Moon is a cold body, emitting
no light or heat of its own; all the light
which it seems to shed is entirely reflected
light—reflecting the sun’s rays, much as a
mirror might reflect them; hence its beautiful
silver color.
In round numbers, the Moon is approximately
240,000 miles distant from us in space—the distance
varying from 221,600 miles to 252,970
miles—causing a corresponding variation in its
apparent diameter and parallax.[A] The circumference
of the Moon’s orbit is a little more than
a million-and-a-half miles, and it travels
through space with the velocity of 2,288.6 miles
per hour, or 3,357 feet per second.
Our satellite always keeps the same face
turned towards the Earth, so that we only see
one side of it; the other side is forever hidden
from the sight of man. However, the axis of
the Moon tilts, in relation to the earth, and
permits us to glimpse a little more of the surface
both north and south, so that about five-eighths
of the surface has actually been observed.
The surface of the Moon has been subjected
to intensive study, and its “geography” is now
as well known as that of our own earth. Vast
“seas” (i. e.) sea bottoms, mountain ranges,
solitary mountain peaks, enormous craters, are
readily observed, and modern telescopes have
now brought the moon so close to us that it
has been said that any body as high as the
Woolworth Building, in New York, would cast
a shadow which could be observed and noted.
The fact that the same face of the Moon is
always seen by man does not mean that this
body remains stationary; it revolves on its own
axis, from west to east, but this revolution occupies
exactly one siderial month. The result
is that the days and nights on the Moon, are
many times the length of our days and nights.
The surface exposed to the sun’s rays must get
extremely hot, and, when deprived of these
rays, extremely cold. It has been estimated
that the mean temperature of the moon’s surface
must approximate 200° F., during the
“day” time, and approach the intense cold of
inter-stellar space during the “night” (perhaps
-250° C.). This would render life or vegetation
of any kind very unlikely. However, Professor
Pickering has lately asserted that vegetation
does apparently spring into being with extreme
rapidity during the moon’s day time—evidently
remaining latent during the intense
cold of the “night.” (Some interesting material
on this topic may be found in Shipley’s
“Is the Moon a Dead World?” No. 557 of the
present series.)
The volume of the Moon is about one-fiftieth
that of the earth, but its mass is only about
one-eightieth that of our planet. The Moon is
practically devoid of atmosphere, which is another
reason why it cannot support “life,” in
our sense of the word. Two theories have been
advanced as to the absence of the moon’s atmosphere:
(1) that it gradually combined, chemically,
with the materials on its surface; and
(2) that it gradually escaped into space, because
of the low gravitational pull of the moon.
There is no water on our satellite, which means
that there is no ice and no snow. The moon
being so much smaller than our earth, the pull
of gravity is of course much less also.
Yet it is well known that the tides, on the
earth, are greatly influenced by the moon.
Every atom composing our satellite must exert
some subtle pull upon every atom of our oceans,
in order thus to affect them. What is the nature
of this attraction? Here we encounter the
mystery of gravitation! This question must
accordingly be postponed until we come to our
discussion of that subject.
One of the most remarkable and distinguishing
characteristics of the moon consists in the
so-called “lunar craters,” which appear to be
immense, extinct volcanoes. More than 30,000
of these have now been mapped, varying in size
from small hills to immense basins 50, 60,
100 miles in diameter. Ptolemy is 115 miles
across, while Theophilus is 64 miles in diameter
and 19,000 feet deep. The curious thing about
these lunar craters is that they are unlike the
hilly volcanoes known to us on our earth. They
are rather huge circular pits, often square miles
in extent, surrounded by a circular wall, and
almost invariably having a single mountainous
cone in the center.
Various theories have been advanced by way
of explanation of these craters. The most important
of these are (1) that they represent extinct
volcanoes; (2) that they indicate spots
where masses of matter have dashed into the
moon, from surrounding space; and (3) that
they represent the surface of the moon, when
it was a hot, seething mass—their resemblance
to the “bubbles” formed at the surface of boiling
glue, mud, etc., being pointed to as analogous.
Unanimity of view does not exist even
yet as to their origin.
The ever-changing “phases” of the moon have
been observed by generations of lovers. Thus,
the new moon, full moon, etc., are commonplace
sights. These apparent changes are, of course,
due entirely to the relative position of the sun
at the time. If the sun illumines the whole
face of the moon, as viewed from our earth, we
have full moon; if only a small portion of it,
we see the first quarter, etc. The whole disk
of the moon may always be seen, however, by
careful observation. It is hardly necessary to
say that the so-called “Man in the Moon” is a
mind’s eye picture, created by the configuration
of the various mountains, seas, etc., upon
its surface.