Chapter VI
Original French
Ce qui leur arriva avec les hommes.
Micromégas, bien meilleur observateur que son nain, vit clairement que les atomes se parlaient; et il le fit remarquer à son compagnon, qui, honteux de s'être mépris sur l'article de la génération, ne voulut point croire que de pareilles espèces pussent se communiquer des idées. Il avait le don des langues aussi bien que le Sirien; il n'entendait point parler nos atomes, et il supposait qu'ils ne parlaient pas: d'ailleurs comment ces êtres imperceptibles auraient-ils les organes de la voix, et qu'auraient-ils à dire? Pour parler, il faut penser, ou à peu près; mais s'ils pensaient, ils auraient donc l'équivalent d'une âme: or, attribuer l'équivalent d'une âme à cette espèce, cela lui paraissait absurde. Mais, dit le Sirien, vous avez cru tout-à-l'heure qu'ils fesaient l'amour; est-ce que vous croyez qu'on puisse faire l'amour sans penser et sans proférer quelque parole, ou du moins sans se faire entendre? Supposez-vous d'ailleurs qu'il soit plus difficile de produire un argument qu'un enfant? Pour moi l'un et l'autre me paraissent de grands mystères: je n'ose plus ni croire ni nier, dit le nain; je n'ai plus d'opinion; il faut tâcher d'examiner ces insectes, nous raisonnerons après. C'est fort bien dit, reprit Micromégas; et aussitôt il tira une paire de ciseaux dont il se coupa les ongles, et d'une rognure de l'ongle de son pouce il fit sur-le-champ une espèce de grande trompette parlante, comme un vaste entonnoir, dont il mit le tuyau dans son oreille. La circonférence de l'entonnoir enveloppait le vaisseau et tout l'équipage. La voix la plus faible entrait dans les fibres circulaires de l'ongle; de sorte que, grâce à son industrie, le philosophe de là-haut entendit parfaitement le bourdonnement de nos insectes de là-bas. En peu d'heures il parvint à distinguer les paroles, et enfin à entendre le français. Le nain en fit autant, quoique avec plus de difficulté. L'étonnement des voyageurs redoublait à chaque instant. Ils entendaient des mites parler d'assez bon sens: ce jeu de la nature leur paraissait inexplicable. Vous croyez bien que le Sirien et son nain brûlaient d'impatience de lier conversation avec les atomes; le nain craignait que sa voix de tonnerre, et surtout celle de Micromégas, n'assourdît les mites sans en être entendue. Il fallait en diminuer la force. Ils se mirent dans la bouche des espèces de petits cure-dents, dont le bout fort effilé venait donner auprès du vaisseau. Le Sirien tenait le nain sur ses genoux, et le vaisseau avec l'équipage sur un ongle; il baissait la tête et parlait bas. Enfin, moyennant toutes ces précautions et bien d'autres encore, il commença ainsi son discours:
Insectes invisibles, que la main du Créateur s'est plu à faire naître dans l'abîme de l'infiniment petit, je le remercie de ce qu'il a daigné me découvrir des secrets qui semblaient impénétrables. Peut-être ne daignerait-on pas vous regarder à ma cour; mais je ne méprise personne, et je vous offre ma protection.
Si jamais il y eut quelqu'un d'étonné, ce furent les gens qui entendirent ces paroles. Ils ne pouvaient deviner d'où elles partaient. L'aumônier du vaisseau récita les prières des exorcismes, les matelots jurèrent, et les philosophes du vaisseau firent des systèmes; mais quelque système qu'ils fissent, ils ne purent jamais deviner qui leur parlait. Le nain de Saturne, qui avait la voix plus douce que Micromégas, leur apprit alors en peu de mots à quelles espèces ils avaient affaire. Il leur raconta le voyage de Saturne, les mit au fait de ce qu'était M. Micromégas; et après les avoir plaints d'être si petits, il leur demanda s'ils avaient toujours été dans ce misérable état si voisin de l'anéantissement, ce qu'ils fesaient dans un globe qui paraissait appartenir à des baleines, s'ils étaient heureux, s'ils multipliaient, s'ils avaient une âme, et cent autres questions de cette nature.
Un raisonneur de la troupe, plus hardi que les autres, et choqué de ce qu'on doutait de son âme, observa l'interlocuteur avec des pinnules braquées sur un quart de cercle, fit deux stations, et à la troisième il parla ainsi: Vous croyez donc, monsieur, parceque vous avez mille toises depuis la tête jusqu'aux pieds, que vous êtes un..... Mille toises! s'écria le nain: juste ciel! d'où peut-il savoir ma hauteur? mille toises! il ne se trompe pas d'un pouce: quoi! cet atome m'a mesuré! il est géomètre, il connaît ma grandeur; et moi, qui ne le vois qu'à travers un microscope, je ne connais pas encore la sienne! Oui, je vous ai mesuré, dit le physicien, et je mesurerai bien encore votre grand compagnon. La proposition fut acceptée; son excellence se coucha de son long; car, s'il se fût tenu debout, sa tête eût été trop au-dessus des nuages. Nos philosophes lui plantèrent un grand arbre, dans un endroit que le docteur Swift nommerait, mais que je me garderai bien d'appeler par son nom, à cause de mon grand respect pour les dames. Puis, par une suite de triangles liés ensemble, ils conclurent que ce qu'ils voyaient était en effet un jeune homme de cent vingt mille pieds de roi.
Alors Micromégas prononça ces paroles: Je vois plus que jamais qu'il ne faut juger de rien sur sa grandeur apparente. O Dieu! qui avez donné une intelligence à des substances qui paraissent si méprisables, l'infiniment petit vous coûte aussi peu que l'infiniment grand; et s'il est possible qu'il y ait des êtres plus petits que ceux-ci, ils peuvent encore avoir un esprit supérieur à ceux de ces superbes animaux que j'ai vus dans le ciel, dont le pied seul couvrirait le globe où je suis descendu.
Un des philosophes lui répondit qu'il pouvait en toute sûreté croire qu'il est en effet des êtres intelligents beaucoup plus petits que l'homme. Il lui conta, non pas tout ce que Virgile a dit de fabuleux sur les abeilles, mais ce que Swammerdam a découvert, et ce que Réaumur a disséqué. Il lui apprit enfin qu'il y a des animaux qui sont pour les abeilles ce que les abeilles sont pour l'homme, ce que le Sirien lui-même était pour ces animaux si vastes dont il parlait, et ce que ces grands animaux sont pour d'autres substances devant lesquelles ils ne paraissent que comme des atomes. Peu-à-peu la conversation devint intéressante, et Micromégas parla ainsi:
Musean translation
Complete machine-assisted Musean translation directly from the French of all seven chapters, Beuchot edition (1829), checked against the printed pages. Later editorial notes are omitted.
What happened to them among men.
Micromegas, a far better observer than his dwarf, clearly saw that the atoms were speaking to one another and pointed it out to his companion. Ashamed of his mistake over the matter of generation, the latter refused to believe that such creatures could communicate ideas. He had the gift of languages just as the Sirian did; he could not hear our atoms speak and assumed they were not speaking. Besides, how could these imperceptible beings possess vocal organs, and what would they have to say? To speak one must think, or nearly so; but if they thought, they would possess the equivalent of a soul, and to attribute the equivalent of a soul to this species seemed absurd to him. "But," said the Sirian, "a moment ago you thought they were making love. Do you believe one can make love without thinking and uttering a word, or at least without making oneself understood? And do you suppose it is harder to produce an argument than a child? For my part, both seem great mysteries." "I no longer dare either to believe or deny," said the dwarf. "I have no opinion left. We must try to examine these insects; we shall reason afterward." "Very well said," replied Micromegas. At once he took out a pair of scissors and trimmed his nails. From a clipping of his thumbnail he immediately fashioned a sort of great speaking trumpet, like an enormous funnel, and put its narrow end into his ear. The funnel's circumference enclosed the ship and its entire crew. The faintest voice entered the circular fibers of the nail, so that, thanks to his ingenuity, the philosopher from up above could perfectly hear the buzzing of our insects down below. Within a few hours he managed to distinguish words and finally to understand French. The dwarf did the same, though with more difficulty. The travelers' astonishment doubled at every moment. They heard mites talking quite sensibly: this trick of nature seemed inexplicable to them. You may well believe that the Sirian and his dwarf burned with impatience to begin a conversation with the atoms. The dwarf feared that his thunderous voice, and especially Micromegas's, would deafen the mites without being understood. Its force had to be reduced. They put into their mouths a kind of little toothpick, whose finely tapered tip came close to the ship. The Sirian held the dwarf on his knees, and the ship and crew on a nail; he lowered his head and spoke softly. At last, with all these precautions and many others besides, he began his address:
"Invisible insects, whom the Creator's hand has been pleased to bring into being in the abyss of the infinitely small, I thank him for deigning to reveal to me secrets that seemed impenetrable. Perhaps at my court they would not deign to look at you; but I despise no one, and I offer you my protection."
If anyone was ever astonished, it was the people who heard these words. They could not guess where they came from. The ship's chaplain recited the exorcism prayers, the sailors swore, and the philosophers aboard constructed systems; but whatever systems they constructed, they could never guess who was speaking to them. The dwarf of Saturn, whose voice was gentler than Micromegas's, then explained in a few words what kinds of beings they were dealing with. He told them about the journey from Saturn, informed them who Mr. Micromegas was, and, after pitying them for being so small, asked whether they had always been in this wretched state so close to annihilation; what they were doing on a globe that seemed to belong to whales; whether they were happy, whether they reproduced, whether they had a soul; and a hundred other questions of the kind.
One reasoner among them, bolder than the rest and offended at the doubt cast on his soul, observed the speaker through sights mounted on a quadrant, took readings from two stations, and at the third spoke as follows: "So, sir, because you measure a thousand fathoms from head to foot, you think you are a…" "A thousand fathoms!" cried the dwarf. "Good heavens! How can he know my height? A thousand fathoms! He is not an inch out! What! This atom has measured me! He is a geometer; he knows my dimensions, while I, who can see him only through a microscope, do not yet know his!" "Yes, I have measured you," said the natural philosopher, "and I shall certainly measure your great companion too." The proposal was accepted. His Excellency lay down at full length, for had he remained standing, his head would have been too far above the clouds. Our philosophers planted a great tree in him, in a spot Dr. Swift would name but which I shall take care not to call by its name, out of my great respect for the ladies. Then, by a succession of linked triangles, they concluded that what they saw was indeed a young man a hundred and twenty thousand royal feet tall.
Then Micromegas spoke these words: "I see more clearly than ever that nothing should be judged by its apparent size. O God, who have given intelligence to substances that seem so contemptible, the infinitely small costs you as little as the infinitely great. And if beings smaller than these are possible, they may yet possess minds superior to those of the proud animals I have seen in the heavens, whose foot alone would cover the globe on which I have landed."
One of the philosophers answered that he could safely believe there were indeed intelligent beings much smaller than man. He told him, not all the fables Virgil had related about bees, but what Swammerdam had discovered and what Réaumur had dissected. Finally he taught him that there are animals which stand to bees as bees stand to man, as the Sirian himself stood to those vast animals of which he spoke, and as those great animals stand to other substances beside which they appear no more than atoms. Little by little the conversation became interesting, and Micromegas spoke as follows:
Plain English translation
Complete machine-assisted Plain English translation made independently and directly from the French of all seven chapters, Beuchot edition (1829), not from the Musean edition. Later editorial notes are omitted.
What happened when they met humans.
Micromegas was a much better observer than his dwarf. He clearly saw that the atoms were talking to one another and pointed this out to his companion. Ashamed of his mistake about reproduction, the companion refused to believe that creatures like these could exchange ideas. He had a gift for languages, just as the Sirian did. He could not hear our atoms talking, so he assumed they did not talk. Besides, how could these invisible beings have vocal organs, and what would they have to say? To speak, you have to think, more or less. But if they thought, they would have something equivalent to a soul. Giving this species the equivalent of a soul seemed absurd to him. "But," said the Sirian, "just now you believed they were making love. Do you believe you can make love without thinking and saying something, or at least making yourself understood? And do you suppose it's harder to produce an argument than a child? Both seem great mysteries to me." "I no longer dare believe or deny anything," the dwarf said. "I have no opinion left. We must try to examine these insects. We'll reason afterward." "Very well said," Micromegas replied. He immediately took out a pair of scissors, cut his nails, and used a clipping from his thumbnail to make a sort of large speaking trumpet, shaped like an enormous funnel. He put its tube in his ear. The funnel's rim surrounded the ship and all its crew. Even the weakest voice entered the nail's circular fibers. Thanks to his ingenuity, the philosopher from up above could hear perfectly the buzzing of our insects down below. Within a few hours he could distinguish words and finally understand French. The dwarf did the same, though with more difficulty. The travelers grew more astonished every moment. They could hear mites talking quite sensibly. This trick of nature seemed impossible to explain. You can imagine how impatient the Sirian and his dwarf were to start a conversation with the atoms. The dwarf feared that his thunderous voice, and especially Micromegas's, would deafen the mites without being understood. They had to reduce its force. They put what were like little toothpicks in their mouths, with the very fine tips reaching down near the ship. The Sirian held the dwarf on his knees and the ship and crew on a nail. He lowered his head and spoke quietly. At last, with all these precautions and many others, he began his speech:
"Invisible insects, whom the Creator's hand has chosen to bring to life in the depths of the infinitely small, I thank him for agreeing to reveal to me secrets that seemed impossible to discover. At my court they might not consider you worth looking at. But I look down on nobody, and I offer you my protection."
If anyone was ever astonished, it was the people who heard these words. They could not work out where they came from. The ship's chaplain recited prayers of exorcism, the sailors swore, and the philosophers on board developed theories. But whatever theories they developed, they could never guess who was talking to them. The dwarf from Saturn, whose voice was softer than Micromegas's, then briefly explained what kinds of beings they were dealing with. He described the journey from Saturn and told them about Mr. Micromegas. After expressing pity for their small size, he asked whether they had always been in this miserable state so close to nonexistence, what they were doing on a globe that seemed to belong to whales, whether they were happy, whether they reproduced, whether they had a soul, and a hundred other questions of this kind.
One of the group's reasoners, bolder than the others and offended that anyone should doubt his soul, examined the speaker through sights mounted on a quadrant. He took up two positions, then at the third he said, "So, sir, because you measure a thousand fathoms from head to foot, you believe you're a…" "A thousand fathoms!" cried the dwarf. "Good heavens! How can he know my height? A thousand fathoms! He's not an inch wrong. What! This atom has measured me! He's a mathematician. He knows my size, while I, who can only see him through a microscope, still don't know his!" "Yes, I've measured you," the physicist said, "and I can measure your big companion too." They accepted the offer. His Excellency lay down at full length, since if he had stood, his head would have been too far above the clouds. Our philosophers planted a large tree in a part of him that Doctor Swift would name, but that I will take care not to call by name, out of my great respect for ladies. Then, using a series of linked triangles, they concluded that what they saw really was a young man a hundred and twenty thousand French royal feet tall.
Micromegas then said, "I see more clearly than ever that we must judge nothing by its apparent size. O God, who have given intelligence to beings that look so insignificant, the infinitely small costs you as little effort as the infinitely large. If there can be beings smaller than these, they may have minds greater than those of the magnificent animals I've seen in the heavens, whose foot alone would cover the globe I've landed on."
One of the philosophers replied that he could safely believe there really were intelligent beings much smaller than humans. He told him, not all Virgil's fabulous stories about bees, but what Swammerdam had discovered and Réaumur had dissected. Finally, he explained that some animals stood in relation to bees as bees did to humans, as the Sirian himself did to those enormous animals he had mentioned, and as those enormous animals did to other beings beside whom they looked like mere atoms. Gradually the conversation grew interesting, and Micromegas spoke as follows:
About this section
Chapter VI is part of Micromegas by Voltaire. This page sets the French original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is chapter 6 of 7 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
Open the work page for the full contents, every edition, and the download links, or go back to Explore to browse other complete works in the European tradition. The reader keeps your place when you are signed in and lets you compare the original with each translation, one edition at a time.