The next morning as soon as the Marchioness was awake, I sent to enquire how she did, and whether she had been able to sleep whilst the globe was turning? I received for answer, that she already felt quite accustomed to the motion; and had slept as undisturbedly as Copernicus himself. Soon afterwards, some company came to spend the whole day with her; a tiresome custom which is always observed in the country; yet long as the visit was, we considered it a great kindness in the guests, not to prolong it to the next day; which I find is a common practice in this part of the world: however, as they had the civility to leave us, the Marchioness and I had the evening to ourselves. We immediately went to the park and resumed our astronomical conversation. She understood so perfectly all I had said on the former evening, that she disdained to hear any repetition of the subject, and desired me to enter on a new one.--Well then, said I, since the sun, which we concluded is immovable, can no longer be considered a planet; and the earth is proved to be one, and to move round the sun; you will be the less surprised to hear, that the moon is a world like ours; and to all appearance, inhabited.--I never heard speak of peopling the moon; she replied, but as a ridiculous, visionary hypothesis.--It may be so, answered I; I only adopt the interest of any party, in these cases, as people do in civil wars; in which the uncertainty of the event, induces them to hold a correspondence with opposite sides, and even, when possible, with their enemies. For my part, though I believe the moon is inhabited, I can be very civil to any one that disbelieves it; and I always retain the power of going over to their side without disgracing myself, if I found they had the advantage: but in the present state of the question I have the following reasons for thinking the moon is inhabited. Let us suppose that no communication had ever been carried on between Paris and St. Dennis; and that a Parisian who had never gone out of his own city should stand on one of the towers of Notre-Dame, and at that distance view St. Dennis: were he asked if he believed that St. Dennis was inhabited like Paris, he would without hesitation answer, No; I see inhabitants in Paris, but I can discover none at St. Dennis, nor did I ever hear of any being there. Somebody standing by, might answer, that we certainly cannot see them from the towers of Notre-Dame, but that is, because we are at too great a distance; that from all we can discern of St. Dennis it is very much like Paris; that it has steeples, houses, walls; and therefore is very probably inhabited. All this makes no impression on our citizen; he insists upon it that St. Dennis is uninhabited because he does not see any body in it. The moon is our St. Dennis, and each of us is this Parisian who has never left the city in which he resides.