but give me your observations upon
everything; I expect to hear a great deal about the form and figure
of the earth, and how it all appeared to you from such an eminence.
MENIPPUS.
And so you shall; ascend, therefore, in imagination with me to the
Moon, and consider the situation and appearance of the earth from
thence: suppose it to seem, as it did to me, much less than the
moon, insomuch, that when I first looked down, I could not find the
high mountains, and the great sea; and, if it had not been for the
Rhodian Colossus, {168} and the tower of Pharos, should not have
known where the earth stood. At length, however, by the reflection
of the sunbeams, the ocean appeared, and showed me the land, when,
keeping my eyes fixed upon it, I beheld clearly and distinctly
everything that was doing upon earth, not only whole nations and
cities, but all the inhabitants of them, whether waging war,
cultivating their fields, trying causes, or anything else; their
women, animals, everything, in short, was before me.
FRIEND.
Most improbable, all this, and contradictory; you told me but just
before, that the earth was so little by its great distance, that you
could scarce find it, and, if it had not been for the Colossus, it
would not have appeared at all; and now, on a sudden, like another
Lynceus, you can spy out men, trees, animals, nay, I suppose, even a
flea's nest, if you chose it.
MENIPPUS.
I thank you for putting me in mind of what I had forgot to mention.
When I beheld the earth, but could not distinguish the objects upon
it, on account of the immense distance, I was horribly vexed at it,
and ready to cry, when, on a sudden, Empedocles {169} the
philosopher stood behind me, all over ashes, as black as a coal, and
dreadfully scorched: when I saw him, I must own I was frightened,
and took him for some demon of the moon; but he came up to me, and
cried out, "Menippus, don't be afraid,
"I am no god, why call'st thou me divine?" {170}
I am Empedocles, the naturalist: after I had leaped into the
furnace, a vapour from AEtna carried me up hither, and here I live
in the moon and feed upon dew: I am come to free you from your
present distress." "You are very kind," said I, "most noble
Empedocles, and when I fly back to Greece, I shall not forget to pay
my devotions to you in the tunnel of my chimney every new moon."
"Think not," replied he, "that I do this for the sake of any reward
I might expect for it
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