University of Virginia Library


3

THE ELEPHANT IN THE MOON
[_]

Square brackets denote editorial insertions or emendations

A learn'd Society of late,
The Glory of a foreign State,
Agreed, upon a Summer's Night,
To search the Moon by her own Light;
To take an Invent'ry of all
Her real Estate, and personal;
And make an accurate Survey
Of all her Lands, and how they lay,
As true as that of Ireland, where
The sly Surveyors stole a Shire;
T' observe her Country, how 'twas planted,
With what sh' abounded most, or wanted;
And make the proper'st Observations,
For settling of new Plantations,
If the Society should incline
T' attempt so glorious a Design.
This was the Purpose of their meeting,
For which they chose a Time as fitting;
When, at the Full, her radiant Light
And Influence too were at their Height.
And now the lofty Tube, the Scale
With which they Heav'n itself assail,
Was mounted full against the Moon;
And all stood ready to fall on,
Impatient who should have the Honour
To plant an Ensign first upon her.
When one, who for his deep Belief
Was Virtuoso then in chief,
Approv'd the most profound, and wise
To solve Impossibilities,
Advancing gravely, to apply
To th' optick glass his judging Eye,

4

Cry'd—Strange!—then reinforc'd his Sight
Against the Moon with all his Might,
And bent his penetrating Brow,
As if he meant to gaze her through.
When all the rest began t' admire,
And, like a Train, from him took Fire,
Surpriz'd with Wonder, beforehand,
At what they did not understand,
Cry'd out, impatient to know what
The Matter was, they wonder'd at.
Quoth he,—Th' Inhabitants o' th' Moon,
Who, when the Sun shines hot at Noon,
Do live in Cellars underground
Of eight Miles deep, and eighty round,
(In which at once they fortify
Against the Sun, and th' Enemy)
Which they count Towns and Cities there,
Because their People's civiler
Than those rude Peasants, that are found
To live upon the upper Ground,
Call'd Privolvans, with whom they are
Perpetually in open War;
And now both Armies, highly 'nrag'd;
Are in a bloody Fight engag'd;
And many fall on both Sides slain,
As by the Glass 'tis clear, and plain.
Look quickly then, that every one
May see the Fight, before 'tis done.
With that a great Philosopher,
Admir'd, and famous far and near,
As one of singular Invention,
But universal Comprehension,
Apply'd one Eye, and half a Nose
Unto the optick Engine close.
For he had lately undertook
To prove, and publish in a Book,
That Men, whose nat'ral Eyes are out,
May, by more pow'rful Art, be brought
To see with th' empty Holes as plain,
As if their Eyes were in again:

5

And, if they chanc'd to fail of those,
To make an Optick of a Nose;
As clearly it may, by those that wear
But Spectacles, be made appear;
By which both Senses being united
Does render them much better sighted.
This great Man, having fix'd both Sights
To view the formidable Fights,
Observ'd his best, and then cry'd out,—
The Battle's desperately fought:
The gallant Subvolvani rally,
And from their Trenches make a Sally
Upon the stubborn Enemy,
Who now begin to rout and fly.
These silly ranting Privolvans,
Have every Summer their Campains,
And muster, like the warlike Sons
Of Raw-head and of Bloody-bones,
As numerous as Soland Geese
I' th' Islands of the Orcades,
Couragiously to make a Stand,
And face their Neighbours Hand to Hand;
Until the long'd-for Winter's come,
And then return in Triumph home,
And spend the rest o' th' Year in Lies,
And vapouring of their Victories.
From th' old Arcadians th' are believ'd
To be, before the Moon, deriv'd;
And when her Orb was new created,
To people her, were thence translated.
For, as th' Arcadians were reputed
Of all the Grecians the most stupid,
Whom nothing in the World could bring
To civil Life, but fiddling,
They still retain the antique Course,
And Custom of their Ancestors;
And always sing, and fiddle to
Things of the greatest Weight they do.
While thus the learn'd Man entertains
Th' Assembly with the Privolvans;

6

Another of as great Renown,
And solid Judgment in the Moon;
That understood her various Soils,
And which produc'd best Genet-moyles;
And in the Register of Fame
Had enter'd his long-living Name;
After he had por'd long and hard
In th' Engine, gave a Start, and star'd—
Quoth he,—A stranger Sight appears
Than e're was seen in all the Spheres,
A Wonder more unparallel'd,
Than ever mortal Tube beheld.
An Elephant from one of those
Two mighty Armies is broke loose,
And with the Horrour of the Fight
Appears amaz'd, and in a Fright;
Look quickly, lest the Sight of us
Should cause the startled Beast t' imboss.
It is a large one, far more great
Than e'er was bred in Afric yet;
From which we boldly may infer,
The Moon is much the fruitfuller.
And, since the mighty Pyrrhus brought
Those living Castles first, 'tis thought,
Against the Romans, in the Field,
It may an Argument be held
(Arcadia being but a Piece,
As his Dominions were, of Greece,)
To prove, what this illustrious Person
Has made so noble a Discourse on;
And amply satisfy'd us all
Of th' Privolvans Original.
That Elephants are in the Moon,
Though we had now discover'd none,
Is easily made manifest;
Since, from the greatest to the least,
All other Stars and Constellations
Have Cattle of all sorts of Nations;
And Heaven, like a Tartar's Horde,
With great and numerous Droves is stor'd:

7

And, if the Moon produce by Nature
A People of so vast a Stature,
'Tis consequent, she shou'd bring forth
Far greater Beasts too, than the Earth;
(As by the best Accounts appears
Of all our great'st Discoverers)
And, that those monstrous Creatures there
Are not such Rarities as here.
Mean while the rest had had a Sight
Of all Particulars o' th' Fight;
And ev'ry Man with equal Care,
Perus'd of th' Elephant his Share,
Proud of his Int'rest in the Glory
Of so miraculous a Story:
When one, who for his Excellence
In height'ning Words and shad'wing Sense,
And magnifying all he writ
With curious microscopick Wit,
Was magnify'd himself no less
In home and foreign Colleges,
Began, transported with the Twang
Of his own Trillo, thus t' harangue.
Most excellent and virtuous Friends,
This great Discovery makes amends
For all our unsuccessful Pains,
And lost Expence of Time and Brains.
For, by this sole Phænomenon,
We've gotten Ground upon the Moon;
And gain'd a Pass, to hold dispute
With all the Planets that stand out;
To carry this most virtuous War
Home to the Door of every Star,
And plant th' Artillery of our Tubes
Against their proudest Magnitudes;
To stretch our Victories beyond
Th' Extent of planetary Ground;
And fix our Engines, and our Ensigns
Upon the fixt Stars vast Dimensions,
(Which Archimede, so long ago,
Durst not presume to wish to do)

8

And prove, if they are other Suns,
As some have held Opinions;
Or Windows in the Empyreum,
From whence those bright Effluvias come
Like Flames of Fire (as others guess)
That shine i' the Mouths of Furnaces.
Nor is this all, we have atchiev'd,
But more, henceforth to be believ'd,
And have no more our best Designs,
Because they're ours, believ'd ill Signs.
T' out-throw, and stretch, and to enlarge
Shall now no more be laid t' our Charge;
Nor shall our ablest Virtuosos
Prove Arguments for Coffee-houses;
Nor those Devices, that are laid
Too truly on us, nor those made,
Hereafter gain Belief among
Our strictest Judges, right or wrong;
Nor shall our past Misfortunes more
Be charg'd upon the ancient Score:
No more our making old Dogs young
Make Men suspect us still i' th' Wrong;
Nor new-invented Chariots draw
The Boys to course us, without Law;
Nor putting Pigs t' a Bitch to nurse,
To turn 'em into Mungrel-Curs,
Make them suspect, our Sculs are brittle,
And hold too much Wit, or too little:
Nor shall our Speculations, whether
An Elder-stick will save the Leather
Of Schoolboy's Breeches from the Rod,
Make all we do appear as odd.
This one Discovery's enough,
To take all former Scandals off—
But, since the World's incredulous
Of all our Scrutinies, and us;
And with a Prejudice prevents
Our best and worst Experiments;
(As if th' were destin'd to miscarry,
In consort try'd, or solitary)

9

And since it is uncertain, when
Such Wonders will occur agen,
Let us as cautiously contrive,
To draw an exact Narrative
Of what we every one can swear,
Our Eyes themselves have seen appear;
That, when we publish the Account,
We all may take our Oaths upon't.
This said, they all with one Consent,
Agreed to draw up th' Instrument,
And, for the gen'ral Satisfaction,
To print it in the next Transaction.
But, whilst the Chiefs were drawing up
This strange Memoir o' th' Telescope,
One, peeping in the Tube by Chance,
Beheld the Elephant advance,
And, from the West-side of the Moon,
To th' East was in a Moment gone.
This b'ing related gave a Stop
To what the rest were drawing up;
And every Man amaz'd anew,
How it could possibly be true,
That any Beast should run a Race
So monstrous, in so short a Space,
Resolv'd, howe'er, to make it good,
At least, as possible as he cou'd;
And rather his own Eyes condemn,
Than question what h' had seen with them.
While all were thus resolv'd; a Man,
Of great Renown there, thus began—
'Tis strange, I grant! But who can say
What cannot be; what can, and may?
Especially at so hugely vast
A Distance, as this Wonder's plac't;
Where the least Error of the Sight
May show Things false, but never right:
Nor can we try them so far off,
By any sublunary Proof.
For who can say, that Nature there
Has the same Laws, she goes by here?

10

Nor is it like, she has infus'd
In every Species, there produc'd,
The same Efforts, she does confer
Upon the same Productions here:
Since those with us, of several Nations,
Have such prodigious Variations;
And she affects so much to use
Variety, in all she does.
Hence may b' infer'd, that, tho' I grant
We've seen i' th' Moon an Elephant,
That Elephant may differ so
From those upon the Earth below,
Both in his Bulk, and Force, and Speed,
As being of a diff'rent Breed;
That, tho' our own are but slow-pac't,
Theirs there may fly, or run as fast;
And yet be Elephants no less,
Than those of Indian Pedigrees.
This said, another of great Worth,
Fam'd for his learned Works put forth,
Look'd wise, then said—All this is true,
And learnedly observ'd by you:
But there's another Reason for't,
That falls but very little short
Of mathematick Demonstration,
Upon an accurate Calculation,
And that is—As the Earth and Moon
Do both move contrary upon
Their Axes, the Rapidity
Of both their Motions cannot be,
But so prodigiously fast,
That vaster Spaces may be past,
In less Time than the Beast has gone,
Though h' had no Motion of his own;
Which we can take no Measure of,
As you have clear'd by learned Proof.
This granted, we may boldly thence
Lay claim to a nobler Inference;
And make this great Phænomenon
(Were there no other) serve alone,

11

To clear the grand Hypothesis
Of th' Motion of the Earth from this.
With this they all were satisfy'd,
As Men are wont o' th' bias'd Side,
Applauded the profound Dispute;
And grew more gay and resolute
By having overcome all doubt,
Than if it never had fall'n out;
And, to compleat their Narrative,
Agreed t' insert this strange Retrieve.
But, while they were diverted all
With wording the Memorial,
The Footboys, for Diversion too,
As having nothing else to do,
Seeing the Telescope at leisure,
Turn'd Virtuosos for their Pleasure;
Began to gaze upon the Moon,
As those they waited on, had done,
With Monkeys Ingenuity,
That love to practise, what they see;
When one, whose Turn it was to peep,
Saw something in the Engine creep;
And, viewing well, discover'd more,
Than all the Learn'd had done before.
Quoth he,—A little Thing is slunk
Into the long star-gazing Trunk;
And now is gotten down so nigh,
I have him just against mine Eye.
This being overheard by one,
Who was not so far overgrown
In any virtuous Speculation,
To judge with mere Imagination,
Immediately he made a Guess
At solving all Appearances,
A Way far more significant,
Than all their Hints of th' Elephant;
And found, upon a second View,
His own Hypothesis most true;
For he had scarce apply'd his Eye
To th' Engine, but immediately

12

He found, a Mouse was gotten in
The hollow Tube, and shut between
The two Glass-windows in Restraint
Was swell'd into an Elephant;
And prov'd the virtuous Occasion,
Of all this learned Dissertation.
And, as a Mountain heretofore
Was great with Child, they say, and bore
A silly Mouse; this Mouse, as strange,
Brought forth a Mountain, in Exchange.
Mean while, the rest in Consultation
Had penn'd the wonderful Narration;
And set their Hands, and Seals, and Wit
T' attest the Truth of what th' had writ;
When this accurst Phænomenon
Confounded all th' had said or done.
For 'twas no sooner hinted at,
But th' all were in a Tumult strait,
More furiously enrag'd by far,
Than those that in the Moon made War,
To find so admirable a Hint,
When they had all agreed t' have seen't,
And were engag'd to make it out,
Obstructed with a paultry Doubt.
When one, whose Task was to determin,
And solve th' Appearances of Vermin;
Wh' had made profound Discoveries
In Frogs, and Toads, and Rats, and Mice;
(Tho' not so curious, 'tis true,
As many a wise Rat-catcher knew)
After he had with Signs made Way
For something great he had to say
—This Disquisition
Is, half of it, in my Discission:
For, though the Elephant, as Beast,
Belongs of Right to all the rest,
The Mouse, b'ing but a Vermin, none
Has Title to, but I alone;
And therefore hope, I may be heard,
In my own Province, with Regard.

13

It is no Wonder, w' are cry'd down,
And made the Talk of all the Town,
That rants and swears, for all our great
Attempts, we have done nothing yet,
If ev'ry one have Leave to doubt,
When some great Secret's half made out;
And, 'cause perhaps it is not true,
Obstruct, and ruin all we do.
As no great Act was ever done,
Nor ever can, with Truth alone;
If nothing else but Truth w' allow,
'Tis no great Matter what we do.
For Truth is too reserv'd, and nice,
T' appear in mix'd Societies;
Delights in solit'ry Abodes,
And never shews her self in Crowds;
A sullen little Thing, below
All Matters of Pretence and Show;
That deal in Novelty, and Change,
Not of Things true, but rare and strange,
To treat the World with what is fit,
And proper to its nat'ral Wit;
The World, that never sets Esteem
On what Things are, but what they seem;
And, if they be not strange and new,
Th' are ne'er the better for b'ing true.
For, what has Mankind gain'd by knowing
His little Truth, but his Undoing,
Which wisely was by Nature hidden,
And only for his Good forbidden?
And, therefore, with great Prudence does,
The World still strive to keep it close;
For if all secret Truths were known,
Who would not be once more undone?
For Truth has always Danger in't,
And here, perhaps, may cross some Hint,
We have already agreed upon,
And vainly frustrate all we've done;
Only to make new Work for Stubs,
And all the academick Clubs.

14

How much then ought we have a Care,
That no Man know above his Share;
Nor dare to understand, henceforth,
More than his Contribution's worth:
That those, wh' have purchas'd of the College
A Share, or half a Share of Knowledge,
And brought in none, but spent Repute,
Should not b' admitted to dispute;
Nor any Man pretend to know
More than his Dividend comes to?
For Partners have been always known
To cheat their publick Int'rest prone;
And, if we do not look to ours,
'Tis sure to run the self-same Course.
This said, the whole Assembly allow'd
The Doctrine to be right, and good;
And, from the Truth of what th' had heard,
Resolv'd to give Truth no Regard,
But, what was for their Turn, to vouch,
And either find, or make it such:
That 'twas more noble to create
Things like Truth, out of strong Conceit,
Than, with vexatious Pains and Doubt,
To find, or think t' have found her out.
This b'ing resolv'd, they, one by one,
Review'd the Tube, the Mouse, and Moon;
But still, the narrower they pry'd,
The more they were unsatisfy'd,
In no one Thing, they saw, agreeing;
As if th' had sev'ral Faiths of seeing.
Some swore, upon a second View,
That all th' had seen before was true,
And that they never would recant
One Syllable of th' Elephant;
Avow'd, his Snout could be no Mouse's,
But a true Elephant's Proboscis.
Others began to doubt, and waver,
Uncertain which o' th' two to favour;
And knew not whether to espouse
The Cause of th' Elephant, or Mouse.

15

Some held no Way so orthodox
To try it, as the Ballot-Box;
And, like the Nation's Patriots,
To find, or make, the Truth by Votes.
Others conceiv'd it much more fit
T' unmount the Tube, and open it;
And, for their private Satisfaction,
To re-examine the Transaction;
And after explicate the rest,
As they should find Cause for the best.
To this, as th' only Expedient,
The whole Assembly gave Consent:
But, e're the Tube was half let down,
It clear'd the first Phænomenon:
For, at the End, prodigious Swarms
Of Flies, and Gnats, like Men in Arms,
Had all past Muster, by mischance,
Both for the Sub, and Privolvans.
This, b'ing discover'd, put them all
Into a fresh, and fiercer Brawl,
Asham'd, that Men so grave and wise
Should be chaldes'd by Gnats and Flies,
And take the feeble Insects' Swarms
For mighty Troops of Men at Arms;
As vain as those, who when the Moon
Bright in a crystal River shone,
Threw Casting-nets as su'tly at her,
To catch and pull her out o' th' Water.
But, when they had unscrew'd the Glass,
To find out, where th' Impostor was,
And saw the Mouse, that by mishap,
Had made the Telescope a Trap,
Amaz'd, confounded, and afflicted,
To be so openly convicted,
Immediately they get them gone,
With this Discovery alone:
That those who greedily pursue
Things wonderful, instead of true;
That in their Speculations chuse
To make Discoveries strange News;

16

And Nat'ral History a Gazette
Of Tales stupendous, and far-fet;
Hold no Truth worthy to be known,
That is not huge, and over-grown,
And explicate Appearances,
Not as they are, but as they please,
In vain strive Nature to suborn,
And, for their Pains, are paid with Scorn.