its motive power. Our French colleague, M. Verne has written most imaginatively (
Heckler: “Not as imaginatively as you, sir.”
) of how a great space-gun might propel a capsule around the moon. Intriguing though this notion is, it is quite impractical for a journey from Wolfe 359 to our earth. The velocity imparted by such a space-gun would not be sufficient for the journey to be completed within the lifetimes of its voyagers. (
Heckler: “Will this lecture be completed within the lifetimes of its audience?” Laughter
.) Therefore I suggest, if I may do so without interruption, learned fellows, that the vehicle accelerates and decelerates through a series of self-generated explosions, of titantic force, which propel the vehicle through transtellar space at colossal velocities. Of course, such star-crossing velocities must be shed to rendezvous with our earth at the completion of the journey, and I would submit that the immense flarings of light we are witnessing are the explosions by which the vehicle slows its headlong flight.
(
Heckler: “Are we in any seriousness meant to accept these fanciful vaporings over the Astronomer Royal’s reasoned arguments?”
)
Gentlemen, I cannot say with any measure of scientific certainty (
Catcalls, booing. Heckler: “What scientific certainty?”
) what such a propulsive explosive might be, certainly no earthly explosive would possess sufficient power for its weight to be a practical fuel for such a transtellar flight. (
Heckler: “Oh certainly!” Laughter
.) However, I have conducted a spectral analysis of the light from Bell’s Comet and found it to be identical to the light of our own familiar sun. (
Heckler: “Of course, it’s reflected sunlight!” Laughter
.) Could it be that the extrasolar stellanauts of Wolfe 359 have learned to duplicate artificially the force that kindles the sun itself and tamed it to power their space vehicles? (
Heckler: “Could it be that the Member from Drumcliffe has learned to duplicate artificially the spirit of the mountain dew and used it to fuel his somewhat active imagination?” Uproarious laughter
.)
Learned fellows … gentlemen, please, if I might have your attention; since it is now clear that we are not unique in God’s Universe, it is therefore of paramount importance, even urgency, that we communicate with these representatives of intelligences immeasurably superior to our own. Therefore, in the August of this year, when Bell’s Comet makes its closest approach to earth (
Heckler: “I don’t believe it! Gentlemen, a fact! A cold, hard fact!”
) I will attempt to signal the presence of intelligent life on this world (
Laughter grows louder
.) to the extrasolar intelligences…. (
General laughter: cries of “Poppycock,” “Shame,” “Withdraw.” A rain of pamphlets falls upon the platform. The President calls for order; there being none, he declares the meeting adjourned
.)
* * * *
EMILY’S DIARY: APRIL 22, 1909.
I DO BELIEVE there are strange and magical things in Bridestone Wood! Real magic, magic of sky and stone and sea, the magic of the Old People, the Good People who live in the halls beneath the hills. Oh, this sounds foolish, this sounds like whimsy, but last night I looked out of my bedroom window and saw lights up there on Ben Bulben, like the lights of many lanterns there on the slopes of the hill, like there were folk dancing by lantern light in a ring around the Bridestone. Mrs. O’Carolan used to tell me stories of the faery lords who would take their mortal brides by the joining of hands through the hole in the middle of the Bridestone. Could this have been such a faery wedding? For as the hour of midnight struck the dancing lights lifted from under the shadow of Ben Bulben and flew through the air into the west; over Craigdarragh, over this very roof! As I leaned out to watch I imagined I could hear the whinnying of the faery horses and the laughter of the host of the air and the playing of the
Heckler: “Not as imaginatively as you, sir.”
) of how a great space-gun might propel a capsule around the moon. Intriguing though this notion is, it is quite impractical for a journey from Wolfe 359 to our earth. The velocity imparted by such a space-gun would not be sufficient for the journey to be completed within the lifetimes of its voyagers. (
Heckler: “Will this lecture be completed within the lifetimes of its audience?” Laughter
.) Therefore I suggest, if I may do so without interruption, learned fellows, that the vehicle accelerates and decelerates through a series of self-generated explosions, of titantic force, which propel the vehicle through transtellar space at colossal velocities. Of course, such star-crossing velocities must be shed to rendezvous with our earth at the completion of the journey, and I would submit that the immense flarings of light we are witnessing are the explosions by which the vehicle slows its headlong flight.
(
Heckler: “Are we in any seriousness meant to accept these fanciful vaporings over the Astronomer Royal’s reasoned arguments?”
)
Gentlemen, I cannot say with any measure of scientific certainty (
Catcalls, booing. Heckler: “What scientific certainty?”
) what such a propulsive explosive might be, certainly no earthly explosive would possess sufficient power for its weight to be a practical fuel for such a transtellar flight. (
Heckler: “Oh certainly!” Laughter
.) However, I have conducted a spectral analysis of the light from Bell’s Comet and found it to be identical to the light of our own familiar sun. (
Heckler: “Of course, it’s reflected sunlight!” Laughter
.) Could it be that the extrasolar stellanauts of Wolfe 359 have learned to duplicate artificially the force that kindles the sun itself and tamed it to power their space vehicles? (
Heckler: “Could it be that the Member from Drumcliffe has learned to duplicate artificially the spirit of the mountain dew and used it to fuel his somewhat active imagination?” Uproarious laughter
.)
Learned fellows … gentlemen, please, if I might have your attention; since it is now clear that we are not unique in God’s Universe, it is therefore of paramount importance, even urgency, that we communicate with these representatives of intelligences immeasurably superior to our own. Therefore, in the August of this year, when Bell’s Comet makes its closest approach to earth (
Heckler: “I don’t believe it! Gentlemen, a fact! A cold, hard fact!”
) I will attempt to signal the presence of intelligent life on this world (
Laughter grows louder
.) to the extrasolar intelligences…. (
General laughter: cries of “Poppycock,” “Shame,” “Withdraw.” A rain of pamphlets falls upon the platform. The President calls for order; there being none, he declares the meeting adjourned
.)
* * * *
EMILY’S DIARY: APRIL 22, 1909.
I DO BELIEVE there are strange and magical things in Bridestone Wood! Real magic, magic of sky and stone and sea, the magic of the Old People, the Good People who live in the halls beneath the hills. Oh, this sounds foolish, this sounds like whimsy, but last night I looked out of my bedroom window and saw lights up there on Ben Bulben, like the lights of many lanterns there on the slopes of the hill, like there were folk dancing by lantern light in a ring around the Bridestone. Mrs. O’Carolan used to tell me stories of the faery lords who would take their mortal brides by the joining of hands through the hole in the middle of the Bridestone. Could this have been such a faery wedding? For as the hour of midnight struck the dancing lights lifted from under the shadow of Ben Bulben and flew through the air into the west; over Craigdarragh, over this very roof! As I leaned out to watch I imagined I could hear the whinnying of the faery horses and the laughter of the host of the air and the playing of the
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