thousands of daily journals cannot begin to record them. But on
the dreary, rocky wastes of the moon nothing ever happens. So far
as we can determine, every stone that lies loose on its surface
has lain there through untold ages, unchanged and unmoved.

We cannot speak so confidently of the planets. The most powerful
telescopes yet made, the most powerful we can ever hope to make,
would scarcely shows us mountains, or lakes, rivers, or fields at
a distance of fifty millions of miles. Much less would they show
us any works of man. Pointed at the two nearest planets, Venus and
Mars, they whet our curiosity more than they gratify it.
Especially is this the case with Venus. Ever since the telescope
was invented observers have tried to find the time of rotation of
this planet on its axis. Some have reached one conclusion, some
another, while the wisest have only doubted. The great Herschel
claimed that the planet was so enveloped in vapor or clouds that
no permanent features could be seen on its surface. The best
equipped recent observers think they see faint, shadowy patches,
which remain the same from day to day, and which show that the
planet always presents the same face to the sun, as the moon does
to the earth. Others do not accept this conclusion as proved,
believing that these patches may be nothing more than variations
of light, shade, and color caused by the reflection of the sun's
light at various angles from different parts of the planet.

There is also some mystery about the atmosphere of this planet.
When Venus passes nearly between us and the sun, her dark
hemisphere is turned towards us, her bright one being always
towards the sun. But she is not exactly on a line with the sun
except on the very rare occasions of a transit across the sun's