10                             Marjorie H. Nicolson

space during the last few years. If I cannot precisely match Laika
and the nameless mice, I can offer you Edgar Allen Poe's "The
Unparalleled Adventures of Hans Pfaal," published in 1835. Hans
took with him in his fantastic kite-machine a cat. . . that kittened

on the \'oyage. And I can even
 

give you predecessors for the
recent American .space-mon¬
keys. Able and Baker. In 1707
the Italian poet. Pier Jacopo
SVMWMW                         ^ "^        Martello, in Gli Occhi di Gesii,

^^W^K*                                     described a voyage to the moon

conducted by no less an impos¬
ing celestial flyer than the
prophet Elijah. On the moon
the traveller discovered an extra¬
ordinary interplanetary flying-
machine "manned"—or "mon¬
keyed"—by one hundred apes,
some dressed in yellow, some
in blue. Going our recent Amer¬
ican anthropoids one better,
Martello's apes, like galley-
slaves, furnished their own
motive power to the flying-
machine.

The idea that man would
some day fly seems to have been
one of the oldest beliefs or
desires, deeply rooted in humanity. "O that I had wings like a
dove!" cried the Psalmist, and literature echoed his cry for cen¬
turies. Far back in imagination we find aerial voyagers. Solomon
was said to have given to the Queen of Sheba, among many rich
gifts, "a vessel wherein she could traverse the air." At the dawn of
 

Qms iil>t: mik pennasjinic lelunWiT.et
mlaki ei r:juvs:am ^ T)^l. ^^ .

This portraval of the Psalmist's "wish
for "wings like a dove" has been
reproduced from Herman Hugo's
Pia Desideria (Antwerp, 1645).
"Psal. 54" is the earlier numbering
for Psalms 55:6.