<h2 id="sigil_toc_id_75">CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
<h3 id="sigil_toc_id_76">AT SEVENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN LEAGUES.</h3>
<p>What had happened? Whence the cause of this singular intoxication,
the consequences of which might have been very disastrous? A simple
blunder of Michel's, which, fortunately, Nicholl was able to correct
in time.</p>
<p>After a perfect swoon, which lasted some minutes, the captain,
recovering first, soon collected his scattered senses. Although he
had breakfasted only two hours before, he felt a gnawing hunger, as
if he had not eaten anything for several days. Everything about him,
stomach and brain, were overexcited to the highest degree. He got up
and demanded from Michel a supplementary repast. Michel, utterly done
up, did not answer.</p>
<p>Nicholl then tried to prepare some tea destined to help the
absorption of a dozen sandwiches. He first tried to get some fire,
and struck a match sharply. What was his surprise to see the sulphur
shine with so extraordinary a brilliancy as to be almost unbearable
to the eye. From the gas-burner which he lit rose a flame equal to a
jet of electric light.</p>
<p>A revelation dawned on Nicholl's mind. That intensity of light,
the physiological troubles which had arisen in him, the
overexcitement of all his moral and quarrelsome faculties,—he
understood all.</p>
<p>"The oxygen!" he exclaimed.</p>
<p>And leaning over the air apparatus, he saw that the tap was
allowing the scentless colourless gas to escape freely, life-giving,
but in its pure state producing the gravest disorders in the system.
Michel had blunderingly opened the tap of the apparatus to the
full.</p>
<div class="illus"><ANTIMG alt="Illustration: THE OXYGEN! HE EXCLAIMED." id="oxygen" src="images/oxygen.jpg" /></div>
<div class="caption">"THE OXYGEN!" HE EXCLAIMED.</div>
<p>Nicholl hastened to stop the escape of oxygen with which the
atmosphere was saturated, which would have been the death of the
travellers, not by suffocation, but by combustion. An hour later, the
air less charged with it restored the lungs to their normal
condition. By degrees the three friends recovered from their
intoxication; but they were obliged to sleep themselves sober over
their oxygen as a drunkard does over his wine.</p>
<p>When Michel learnt his share of the responsibility of this
incident, he was not much disconcerted. This unexpected drunkenness
broke the monotony of the journey. Many foolish things had been said
while under its influence, but also quickly forgotten.</p>
<p>"And then," added the merry Frenchman, "I am not sorry to have
tasted a little of this heady gas. Do you know, my friends, that a
curious establishment might be founded with rooms of oxygen, where
people whose system is weakened could for a few hours live a more
active life. Fancy parties where the room was saturated with this
heroic fluid, theatres where it should be kept at high pressure; what
passion in the souls of the actors and spectators! what fire, what
enthusiasm! And if, instead of an assembly only a whole people could
be saturated, what activity in its functions, what a supplement to
life it would derive. From an exhausted nation they might make a
great and strong one, and I know more than one state in old Europe
which ought to put itself under the regime of oxygen for the sake of
its health!"</p>
<p>Michel spoke with so much animation that one might have fancied
that the tap was still too open. But a few words from Barbicane soon
scattered his enthusiasm.</p>
<p>"That is all very well, friend Michel," said he, "but will you
inform us where these chickens came from which have mixed themselves
up in our concert?"</p>
<p>"Those chickens?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>Indeed, half a dozen chickens and a fine cock were walking about,
flapping their wings and chattering.</p>
<p>"Ah, the awkward things!" exclaimed Michel. "The oxygen has made
them revolt."</p>
<p>"But what do you want to do with these chickens?" asked
Barbicane.</p>
<p>"To acclimatize them in the moon, by Jove!"</p>
<p>"Then why did you hide them?"</p>
<p>"A joke, my worthy president, a simple joke, which has proved a
miserable failure. I wanted to set them free on the lunar continent,
without saying anything. Oh, what would have been your amazement on
seeing these earthly-winged animals pecking in the lunar fields!"</p>
<p>"You rascal, you unmitigated rascal," replied Barbicane, "you do
not want oxygen to mount to the head. You are always what <i>we</i>
were under the influence of the gas; you are always foolish!"</p>
<p>"Ah, who says that we were not wise then?" replied Michel
Ardan.</p>
<p>After this philosophical reflection, the three friends set about
restoring the order of the projectile. Chickens and cock were
reinstated in their coup. But whilst proceeding with this operation,
Barbicane and his two companions had a most desired perception of a
new phenomenon. From the moment of leaving the earth, their own
weight, that of the projectile, and the objects it enclosed, had been
subject to an increasing diminution. If they could not prove this
loss of the projectile, a moment would arrive when it would be
sensibly felt upon themselves and the utensils and instruments they
used.</p>
<p>It is needless to say that a <i>scale</i> would not show this
loss; for the weight destined to weigh the object would have lost
exactly as much as the object itself; but a spring steelyard for
example, the tension of which was independent of the attraction,
would have given a just estimate of this loss.</p>
<p>We know that the attraction, otherwise called the <i>weight</i>,
is in proportion to the densities of bodies, and inversely as the
squares of the distances. Hence this effect: If the earth had been
alone in space, if the other celestial bodies had been suddenly
annihilated, the projectile, according to Newton's laws, would weigh
less as it got farther from the earth, but without ever losing its
weight <i>entirely</i>, for the terrestrial attraction would always
have made itself felt, at whatever distance.</p>
<p>But, in reality, a time must come when the projectile would no
longer be subject to the law of weight, after allowing for the other
celestial bodies whose effect could not be set down as zero. Indeed,
the projectile's course was being traced between the earth and the
moon. As it distanced the earth, the terrestrial attraction
diminished: but the lunar attraction rose in proportion. There must
then come a point where these two attractions would neutralize each
other: the projectile would possess weight no longer. If the moon's
and the earth's densities had been equal, this point would have been
at an equal distance between the two orbs. But taking the different
densities into consideration, it was easy to reckon that this point
would be situated at 47-60ths of the whole journey, i.e. at 78,114
leagues from the earth. At this point, a body having no principle of
speed or displacement in itself, would remain immovable for ever,
being attracted equally by both orbs, and not being drawn more
towards one than towards the other.</p>
<p>Now if the projectile's impulsive force had been correctly
calculated, it would attain this point without speed, having lost all
trace of weight, as well as all the objects within it. What would
happen then? Three hypotheses presented themselves.</p>
<p>1. Either it would retain a certain amount of motion, and pass the
point of equal attraction, and fall upon the moon by virtue of the
excess of the lunar attraction over the terrestrial.</p>
<p>2. Or, its speed failing, and unable to reach the point of equal
attraction, it would fall upon the moon by virtue of the excess of
the lunar attraction over the terrestrial.</p>
<p>3. Or, lastly, animated with sufficient speed to enable it to
reach the neutral point, but not sufficient to pass it, it would
remain for ever suspended in that spot like the pretended tomb of
Mahomet, between the zenith and the nadir.</p>
<p>Such was their situation; and Barbicane clearly explained the
consequences to his travelling companions, which greatly interested
them. But how should they know when the projectile had reached this
neutral point situated at that distance, especially when neither
themselves, nor the objects enclosed in the projectile, would be any
longer subject to the laws of weight?</p>
<p>Up to this time, the travellers, whilst admitting that this action
was constantly decreasing, had not yet become sensible to its total
absence.</p>
<p>But that day, about eleven o'clock in the morning, Nicholl having
accidentally let a glass slip from his hand, the glass, instead of
falling, remained suspended in the air.</p>
<p>"Ah!" exclaimed Michel Ardan, "that is rather an amusing piece of
natural philosophy."</p>
<p>And immediately divers other objects, firearms and bottles,
abandoned to themselves, held themselves up as by enchantment. Diana
too, placed in space by Michel, reproduced, but without any trick,
the wonderful suspension practised by Caston and Robert Houdin.
Indeed the dog did not seem to know that she was floating in air.</p>
<p>The three adventurous companions were surprised and stupefied,
despite their scientific reasonings. They felt themselves being
carried into the domain of wonders! they felt that <i>weight</i> was
really wanting to their bodies. If they stretched out their arms,
they did not attempt to fall. Their heads shook on their shoulders.
Their feet no longer clung to the floor of the projectile. They were
like drunken men having no stability in themselves.</p>
<div class="illus"><ANTIMG alt="Illustration: AH! IF RAPHAEL HAD SEEN US THUS." id="raphael" src=
"images/raphael.jpg" /></div>
<div class="caption">"AH! IF RAPHAEL HAD SEEN US THUS."</div>
<p>Fancy has depicted men without reflection, others without shadow.
But here <i>reality,</i> by the neutralisation of attractive forces,
produced men in whom nothing had any weight, and who weighed nothing
themselves.</p>
<p>Suddenly Michel, taking a spring, left the floor and remained
suspended in the air, like Murillo's monk of the <i>Cusine des
Anges.</i></p>
<p>The two friends joined him instantly, and all three formed a
miraculous "Ascension" in the centre of the projectile.</p>
<p>"Is it to be believed? is it probable? is it possible?" exclaimed
Michel; "and yet it is so. Ah! if Raphael had seen us thus, what an
'Assumption' he would have thrown upon canvas!"</p>
<p>"The 'Assumption' cannot last," replied Barbicane. "If the
projectile passes the neutral point, the lunar attraction will draw
us to the moon."</p>
<p>"Then our feet will be upon the roof," replied Michel.</p>
<p>"No," said Barbicane, "because the projectile's centre of gravity
is very low; it will only turn by degrees."</p>
<p>"Then all our portables will be upset from top to bottom, that is
a fact."</p>
<p>"Calm yourself, Michel," replied Nicholl; "no upset is to be
feared; not a thing will move, for the projectile's evolution will be
imperceptible."</p>
<p>"Just so," continued Barbicane; "and when it has passed the point
of equal attraction, its base, being the heavier, will draw it
perpendicularly to the moon; but, in order that this phenomenon
should take place, we must have passed the neutral line."</p>
<p>"Pass the neutral line!" cried Michel; "then let us do as the
sailors do when they cross the equator."</p>
<p>A slight side movement brought Michel back towards the padded
side; thence he took a bottle and glasses, placed them "in space"
before his companions, and, drinking merrily, they saluted the line
with a triple hurrah. The influence of these attractions scarcely
lasted an hour; the travellers felt themselves insensibly drawn
towards the floor, and Barbicane fancied that the conical end of the
projectile was varying a little from its normal direction towards the
moon. By an inverse motion the base was approaching first; the lunar
attraction was prevailing over the terrestrial; the fall towards the
moon was beginning, almost imperceptibly as yet, but by degrees the
attractive force would become stronger, the fall would be more
decided, the projectile, drawn by its base, would turn its cone to
the earth, and fall with ever-increasing speed on to the surface of
the Selenite continent; their destination would then be attained. Now
nothing could prevent the success of their enterprise, and Nicholl
and Michel Ardan shared Barbicane's joy.</p>
<p>Then they chatted of all the phenomena which had astonished them
one after the other, particularly the neutralization of the laws of
weight. Michel Ardan, always enthusiastic, drew conclusions which
were purely fanciful.</p>
<p>"Ah, my worthy friends," he exclaimed, "what progress we should
make if on earth we could throw off some of that weight, some of that
chain which binds us to her; it would be the prisoner set at liberty;
no more fatigue of either arms or legs. Or, if it is true that in
order to fly on the earth's surface, to keep oneself suspended in the
air merely by the play of the muscles, there requires a strength a
hundred and fifty times greater than that which we possess, a simple
act of volition, a caprice, would bear us into space, if attraction
did not exist."</p>
<p>"Just so," said Nicholl, smiling; "if we could succeed in
suppressing weight as they suppress pain by anæsthesia, that would
change the face of modern society!"</p>
<p>"Yes," cried Michel, full of his subject, "destroy weight, and no
more burdens!"</p>
<p>"Well said," replied Barbicane; "but if nothing had any weight,
nothing would keep in its place, not even your hat on your head,
worthy Michel; nor your house, whose stones only adhere by weight;
not a boat, whose stability on the water is caused only by weight;
not even the ocean, whose waves would no longer be equalized by
terrestrial attraction; and lastly, not even the <i>atmosphere,</i>
whose atoms, being no longer held in their places, would disperse in
space!"</p>
<p>"That is tiresome," retorted Michel; "nothing like these
matter-of-fact people for bringing one back to the bare reality."</p>
<p>"But console yourself, Michel," continued Barbicane, "for if no
orb exists from whence all laws of weight are banished, you are at
least going to visit one where it is much less than on the
earth."</p>
<p>"The moon?"</p>
<p>"Yes, the moon, on whose surface objects weigh six times less than
on the earth, a phenomenon easy to prove."</p>
<p>"And we shall feel it?" asked Michel.</p>
<p>"Evidently, as 200 lbs. will only weigh 30 pounds on the surface
of the moon."</p>
<p>"And our muscular strength will not diminish?"</p>
<p>"Not at all; instead of jumping one yard high, you will rise
eighteen feet high."</p>
<p>"But we shall be regular Herculeses in the moon!" exclaimed
Michel.</p>
<p>"Yes," replied Nicholl; "for if the height of the Selenites is in
proportion to the density of their globe, they will be scarcely a
foot high."</p>
<p>"Lilliputians!" ejaculated Michel; "I shall play the part of
Gulliver. We are going to realize the fable of the giants. This is
the advantage of leaving one's own planet and overrunning the solar
world."</p>
<p>"One moment, Michel," answered Barbicane; "if you wish to play the
part of Gulliver, only visit the inferior planets, such as Mercury,
Venus, or Mars, whose density is a little less than that of the
earth; but do not venture into the great planets, Jupiter, Saturn,
Uranus, Neptune; for there the order will be changed, and you will
become Lilliputian."</p>
<p>"And in the sun?"</p>
<p>"In the sun, if its density is thirteen hundred and twenty-four
thousand times greater, and the attraction is twenty-seven times
greater than on the surface of our globe, keeping everything in
proportion, the inhabitants ought to be at least two hundred feet
high."</p>
<p>"By Jove!" exclaimed Michel; "I should be nothing more than a
pigmy, a shrimp!"</p>
<p>"Gulliver with the giants," said Nicholl.</p>
<p>"Just so," replied Barbicane.</p>
<p>"And it would not be quite useless to carry some pieces of
artillery to defend oneself."</p>
<p>"Good," replied Nicholl; "your projectiles would have no effect on
the sun; they would fall back on the earth after some minutes."</p>
<p>"That is a strong remark."</p>
<p>"It is certain," replied Barbicane; "the attraction is so great on
this enormous orb, that an object weighing 70,000 lbs. on the earth
would weigh but 1920 lbs. on the surface of the sun. If you were to
fall upon it you would weigh—let me see—about 5000 lbs., a weight
which you would never be able to raise again."</p>
<p>"The devil!" said Michel; "one would want a portable crane.
However, we will be satisfied with the moon for the present; there at
least we shall cut a great figure. We will see about the sun by and
by."</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />