Perhaps all this Hodge-Podge will not be relished by most of my readers. I should be sorry for it. To what end then do mortals hold such odd, such silly and such contradictory discourses? CHAP. XI. THE MIRROUR. As I was amusing myself with these broken speeches, the Prefect of Giphantia presented me with a Mirrour. Thou canst only (says he) guess at things: but with thy rod and that glass, thou art going to hear and see both at once; nothing will escape thee; thou wilt be as present to whatever passes. From space to space (continued the Prefect) there are in the atmosphere portions of air which the spirits have so ranged, that they receive the rays reflected from the different parts of the earth, and remit them to this Mirrour: so that by inclining the glass different ways, the several parts of the earth’s surface will be visible on it. They will all appear one after the other, if the Mirrour is placed successively in all possible aspects. It is in thy power to view the habitations of every mortal. I hastily took up the wonderful glass. In less than a quarter of an hour I surveyed the whole earth. I perceived many void spaces, even in the most populous countries! and yet I saw men crowding, jostling and destroying one another, as if they had wanted room. I looked about a good-while for happiness, and found it no where; not even in the most flourishing kingdoms. I saw only some signs of it in the villages, which by their remoteness were screened from the contagion of the cities. I beheld in one view the vast countries which nature meant to separate by still vaster oceans; and I saw men cover the sea with ships, and by that means join even these distant countries. This is plainly acting (said I) against nature’s intentions: such proceedings cannot be crowned with success. Accordingly, Europe does not appear more happy since her junction with America: and I do not know whether she has not more reason to lament it. I saw prejudices vary with the climates, and, every where, do much good and much harm. I beheld wise nations rejoice at the birth of their children, and deplore the death of their relations and friends: I beheld others more wise stand round the new-born babe, and weep bitterly at the thoughts of the storms he was to undergo in the course of his life; they reserved their rejoicings for funerals, and congratulated the deceased upon their being delivered from the miseries of this world.