ance, could not make out the topographical details of the Moon with
any satisfaction by their unaided vision. The eye indeed could easily
enough catch the rugged outline of these vast depressions improperly
called "Seas," but it could do very little more. Its powers of
adjustability seemed to fail before the strange and bewildering scene.
The prominence of the mountains vanished, not only through the
foreshortening, but also in the dazzling radiation produced by the
direct reflection of the solar rays. After a short time therefore,
completely foiled by the blinding glare, the eye turned itself
unwillingly away, as if from a furnace of molten silver.

The spherical surface, however, had long since begun to reveal its
convexity. The Moon was gradually assuming the appearance of a gigantic
egg with the smaller end turned towards the Earth. In the earlier days
of her formation, while still in a state of mobility, she had been
probably a perfect sphere in shape, but, under the influence of
terrestrial gravity operating for uncounted ages, she was drawn at last
so much towards the centre of attraction as to resemble somewhat a
prolate spheriod. By becoming a satellite, she had lost the native
perfect regularity of her outline; her centre of gravity had shifted
from her real centre; and as a result of this arrangement, some
scientists have drawn the conclusion that the Moon's air and water have
been attracted to that portion of her surface which is always invisible
to the inhabitants of the Earth.

The convexity of her outline, this bulging prominence of her surface,
however, did not last long. The travellers were getting too near to
notice it. They were beginning to survey the Moon as balloonists survey
the Earth. The Projectile was now moving with great rapidity--with
nothing like its initial velocity, but still eight or nine times faster
than an express train. Its line of movement, however, being oblique
instead of direct, was so deceptive as to induce Ardan to flatter
himself that they might still reach the lunar surface. He could never
persuade himself to believe that they should get so near their aim and
still miss it. No; nothing might, could, would or should induce him to
believe it, he repeated again and again. But Barbican's pitiless logic
left him no reply.

"No, dear friend, no. We can reach the Moon only by a fall, and we don't
fall. Centripetal force keeps us at least for a while under the lunar
influence, but