What Happened to Them Among Humans

Micromegas, a much better observer than his dwarf, clearly saw that the atoms were speaking to each other, and pointed this out to his companion, who, ashamed of being mistaken about them reproducing, did not want to believe that such a species could communicate. He had the gift of language as well as the Sirian. He could not hear the atoms talk, and he supposed that they did not speak. Moreover, how could these impossibly small beings have vocal organs, and what would they have to say? To speak, one must think, more or less; but if they think, they must therefore have the equivalent of a soul. But to attribute the equivalent of a soul to this species seemed absurd to him.

Micromegas was a much better observer than his dwarf companion. He clearly saw that the atoms were talking to each other and pointed this out to his companion. The dwarf was ashamed of having been wrong about the atoms reproducing. So he did not want to believe that such a species could communicate. He had a gift for language, just like the Sirian. But he could not hear the atoms talking, so he assumed they did not speak. Besides, how could such impossibly small beings have vocal organs, and what would they have to say? To speak, one must think, more or less. But if the atoms thought, they must therefore have something like a soul. Yet giving this species anything like a soul seemed absurd to him.

"But," said the Sirian, "you believed right away that they made love. Do you believe that one can make love without thinking and without uttering one word, or at least without making oneself heard? Do you suppose as well that it is more difficult to produce an argument than an infant? Both appear to be great mysteries to me."

"But," said the Sirian, "you immediately believed they were making love. Do you believe someone can make love without thinking or saying a word, or at least making a sound? Do you also think producing an argument is harder than producing a baby? Both seem like great mysteries to me."

"I do not dare believe or deny it," said the dwarf. "I have no more opinions. We must try to examine these insects and reason after."

"I don't dare believe it or deny it," said the dwarf. "I have no opinions anymore. We must try to examine these insects first and reason afterward."

"That is very well said," echoed Micromegas, and he briskly took out a pair of scissors with which he cut his fingernails, and from the parings of his thumbnail he improvised a kind of speaking-trumpet, like a vast funnel, and put the end up to his ear. The circumference of the funnel enveloped the vessel and the entire crew. The weakest voice entered into the circular fibers of the nails in such a way that, thanks to his industriousness, the philosopher above could hear the drone of our insects below perfectly. In a small number of hours he was able to distinguish words, and finally to understand French. The dwarf managed to do the same, though with more difficulty. The voyagers' surprise redoubled each second. They heard the mites speak fairly intelligently. This performance of nature's seemed inexplicable to them. You may well believe that the Sirian and the dwarf burned with impatience to converse with the atoms. The dwarf feared that his thunderous voice, and assuredly Micromegas, would deafen the mites without being understood. They had to diminish its force. They placed toothpicks in their mouths, whose tapered ends fell around the ship. The Sirian put the dwarf on his knees and the ship with its crew on a fingernail. He lowered his head and spoke softly. Finally, relying on these precautions and many others, he began his speech like so:

"Very well said," echoed Micromegas. He quickly took out a pair of scissors he used to cut his fingernails. From his thumbnail clippings, he made a kind of speaking-trumpet shaped like a huge funnel. He held its narrow end to his ear. The funnel's wide opening surrounded the ship and its entire crew. Even the faintest voice traveled through the nail's circular fibers. Thanks to his ingenuity, the philosopher above could hear the buzzing of our insects below perfectly. Within a few hours, he could make out words and finally understand French. The dwarf managed the same, though with more difficulty. The travelers grew more astonished by the second. They heard the mites speaking quite intelligently. This feat of nature seemed inexplicable to them. You can well imagine how eagerly the Sirian and the dwarf wanted to talk with these atoms. The dwarf feared his booming voice would deafen the mites without making himself understood. Micromegas's voice would certainly do the same. They had to soften their voices. They put toothpicks in their mouths, with the tapered ends reaching down around the ship. The Sirian placed the dwarf on his knees and the ship with its crew on a fingernail. He lowered his head and spoke softly. Finally, trusting in these precautions and many others, he began his speech like this:

"Invisible insects, that the hand of the Creator has caused to spring up in the abyss of the infinitely small, I thank him for allowing me to uncover these seemingly impenetrable secrets. Perhaps those at my court would not deign to give you audience, but I mistrust no one, and I offer you my protection."

"Invisible insects, the Creator brought you into being in the depths of the infinitely small. I thank him for letting me uncover these seemingly impenetrable secrets. Perhaps those at my court would not consider you worthy of a hearing. But I distrust no one, and I offer you my protection."

If anyone has ever been surprised, it was the people who heard these words. They could not figure out where they were coming from. The chaplain of the vessel recited the exorcism prayers, the sailors swore, and the philosophers of the vessel constructed systems; but no matter what systems they came up with, they could not figure out who was talking. The dwarf from Saturn, who had a softer voice than Micromegas, told them in a few words what species they were dealing with. He told them about the voyage from Saturn, brought them up to speed on what Mr. Micromegas was, and after lamenting how small they were, asked them if they had always been in this miserable state so near nothingness, what they were doing on a globe that appeared to belong to whales, whether they were happy, if they reproduced, if they had a soul, and a hundred other questions of this nature.

If anyone was ever surprised, it was the people who heard these words. They could not work out where the words came from. The ship’s chaplain recited prayers of exorcism, the sailors swore, and the ship’s philosophers came up with theories. But whatever theories the philosophers proposed, no one could work out who was speaking. The dwarf from Saturn had a softer voice than Micromegas. In a few words, he told the people aboard what species they were dealing with. He described the voyage from Saturn and explained who Mr. Micromegas was. Then, after lamenting how small the people were, he asked whether they had always lived in this miserable state, so close to nothingness. What were they doing on a globe that seemed to belong to whales? Were they happy? Did they reproduce? Did they have a soul? He asked a hundred other questions of the same kind.

A reasoner among the troop, more daring than the others, and shocked that someone might doubt his soul, observed the interlocutor with sight-vanes pointed at a quarter circle from two different stations, and at the third spoke thusly: "You believe then, Sir, that because you are a thousand fathoms tall from head to toe, that you are a—"

One thinker in the group was bolder than the others and shocked that anyone might doubt he had a soul. He observed the speaker from two different positions, using sight-vanes set on a quarter circle. From a third position, he said: "So, sir, you believe that because you are a thousand fathoms tall from head to toe, you are a..."

"A thousand fathoms!" cried the dwarf. "Good heavens! How could he know my height? A thousand fathoms! You cannot mistake him for a flea. This atom just measured me! He is a surveyor, he knows my size; and I, who can only see him through a microscope, I still do not know his!"

"A thousand fathoms!" cried the dwarf. "Good heavens! How could he know my height? A thousand fathoms! You can't mistake him for a flea. This atom just measured me! He is a surveyor. He knows my size, but I still don't know his! I can only see him through a microscope!"

"Yes, I measured you," said the physician, "and I will measure your large companion as well." The proposition was accepted, his excellency laid down flat; for were he to stay upright his head would have been among the clouds. Our philosophers planted a great shaft on him, in a place that doctor Swift would have named, but that I will restrain myself from calling by its name, out of respect for the ladies. Next, by a series of triangles linked together, they concluded that what they saw was in effect a young man of 120,000 feet¹⁶.

"Yes, I measured you," said the doctor, "and I will measure your large companion too." The offer was accepted, and his excellency lay flat. If he had stayed upright, his head would have been among the clouds. Our philosophers planted a long pole on him, in a spot that doctor Swift would have named. But out of respect for the ladies, I will not name the spot. Then, using a series of connected triangles, they concluded that they were indeed looking at a young man 120,000 feet tall¹⁶.

So Micromegas delivered these words: "I see more than ever that one must not judge anything by its apparent size. Oh God! you who have given intelligence to substance that appears contemptible. The infinitely small costs you as little as the infinitely large; and if it is possible that there are such small beings as these, there may just as well be a spirit bigger than those of the superb animals that I have seen in the heavens, whose feet alone would cover this planet."

So Micromegas said: "I see more clearly than ever that we must not judge anything by its apparent size. Oh God! You have given intelligence to matter that seems worthless. The infinitely small takes you no more effort than the infinitely large. And if beings as small as these can exist, there may just as well be a greater spirit. It may surpass the spirits of those magnificent animals I have seen in the heavens. Their feet alone would cover this planet."

One of the philosophers responded that he could certainly imagine that there are intelligent beings much smaller than man. He recounted, not every fabulous thing Virgil says about bees, but what Swammerdam discovered, and what Réaumur has anatomized. He explained finally that there are animals that are to bees what bees are to man, what the Sirian himself was for the vast animals he had spoken of, and what these large animals are to other substances before which they looked like atoms. Little by little the conversation became interesting, and Micromegas spoke thusly:

One of the philosophers replied that he could certainly imagine intelligent beings much smaller than humans. He described not all the fabulous things Virgil says about bees, but Swammerdam’s discoveries and Réaumur’s anatomical studies. Finally, he explained that some animals are as small compared with bees as bees are compared with humans. The Sirian himself was just as small compared with the vast animals he had mentioned. And those vast animals were just as small compared with other substances, beside which they looked like atoms. Little by little, the conversation grew interesting, and Micromegas said: