great orbs (the moon, perhaps, excepted) were the seat of animal life, and inhabited by rational beings like ourselves, or merely huge, cold, inanimate globes, doomed to wander through space from time everlasting.
"We have solved that problem—at least, as far as Mars is concerned," he answered complacently.
I started.
"Do you mean to imply that Mars is really inhabited?" I asked.
"You shall see for yourself," was the reply.
Then, leaving his seat, he pulled at the handles and wheels of one of the instruments till he brought the bore of it immediately opposite the planet in question, which was shining at that moment with unusual brightness.
"You may look at it through this," he observed, "and I will regulate it to suit your vision."
I did so.
"Now tell me what you see," he inquired.
"I see a large, luminous globe," I replied, "apparently emitting millions of rays of light.
He worked at the wheels. Plainer and plainer the planet became, till I could distinguish mountains, valleys, forests, and seas. And oh, how beautiful! My eyes drank in, as it were, yet with
