“If they were,” I replied, “or if all of them were, it would be a bad augury for the future of their science. Do not think that in occasionally seeking to restrain your imagination I wish to express condemnation of what, after all, is the noblest of human faculties. But again we are forgetting our principal business, which is with the facts. Aristarchus, as I have said, has undergone another distinct change of appearance from that which it showed before. The central peak is now covered by the shadow of the eastern wall, but still the reflection from the western wall alone is sufficient to make it the brightest spot on the moon. Herodotus, on the other hand, has become indistinct and the Harbinger Mountains are practically invisible, but we can detect the existence of the enormous chasm or cañon, which I told you once issues from the interior of Herodotus and goes winding nearly a hundred miles over the floor of the _Oceanus Procellarum_. “Notice, also, how clearly visible three or four relatively small craters east of the ‘Bay of Rainbows’ have become, and how conspicuous are several large walled plains on the northern ‘horn.’ The dark level south of these formations and between them and the small craters has also a name which I have not before mentioned. It is the _Sinus Roris_, ‘Gulf of Dew.’ It connects the _Mare Frigoris_ with the _Oceanus Procellarum_. It is another legacy from your friend the imaginative astronomer.” “Then once more he receives my thanks for having done his best to make the moon an ideal world. It is always painful to have one’s ideals destroyed.” “I hope that I have not been destroying any of yours.” “No, but at least you have caused a change in my impressions about the character of the moon. Henceforth there will be an element of terror as well as of unexpected grandeur mingled with my thoughts of the ‘Queen of Night.’”