Adventures in the Moon, and Other Worlds

by Earl John Russell Russell

I observed that some of these statues were mutilated, wanting arms, legs, or other appendages to the human figure. This I understood to happen when the lady retains a part of her beauty. Thus, if her arms have not lost their perfection, while all the rest has undergone some decay, a figure of her appears in the moon without arms, which however are added as soon as she has relinquished them. I saw a nose resting on a pedestal by itself, the beauty of its outline having been destroyed by an accident, while the owner was otherwise uninjured. In another place was some beautiful dark hair, being the spoils of a fever. But the most common of these particular beauties separate from the rest was the complexion, which seemed to have frequently preceded all other endowments in its journey to the moon. Each of these fragments had a pedestal, upon which was engraved the name of the lady, as amongst ancient statues we see a beard or a foot, and are told it is Phocion.

I was pleased to see the restoration of beauty to a young woman who had lost it by the small-pox. She had found her former face, which was a mere surface like a mask; and applying it to her features, perceived that it adjusted itself, and adhered to them without needing any care or contrivance. I saw some depredations committed by women, who never having been able to acquiesce in their own features would not lose this opportunity of obtaining others: and I was amused by the incoherent faces which they constructed; for whenever a feature was appropriated to a strange face, it evidently dissented from all the other parts of it. There was a girl, who never having regarded her nose with approbation, was earnestly engaged in fixing to it a new outline that she had found; but at first sight this nose was not at all to the purpose. She was adjusting it by a small mirror, and I heard her expressing her fears that it never would be made to co-operate with her chin. Another woman, endowed with long sallow features, had obtained possession of a beautiful complexion off a small face, and without any regard to the disproportion had pressed it down upon her boundless features, whence it projected and had a very ridiculous appearance. However, she walked away, seeming very well pleased with her new bloom.

When I had left this building and was wandering on for new adventures, I heard a confused sound, which I supposed to proceed from a valley the receptacle of some particular kind of eloquence or noise. I soon arrived at the place, and found it to be the valley containing lost advice, whence had escaped the father's counsel against gambling, which I had heard on my first arrival in the moon.

In this valley innumerable voices were striving to hinder various kinds of imprudence; and I wondered how it happens that with so much good advice in the world there is also so much folly. When I compared the excellent precepts which I heard all round me with the actions of men, I could not avoid considering why it is that we are so much wiser for our friends than for ourselves; why, in our own case, we are liable to be misled by every temptation, and usually pursue the most agreeable course instead of the wisest, while in any other person's case we find ourselves inspired with invincible resolution, can resist the strongest temptations and make the greatest sacrifices. From this reflection I determined that were I to receive a commission to alter and reform the human race, I would contrive that, instead of being obliged to act for ourselves, we should all act for each other, by which invention there would be no such thing as vice or imprudence in the world.

While these admonitions reiterated themselves all round me, I admired the generosity with which all men are ready to give away advice; and it appeared to me that if, as some have said, this is the chief office of friendship, the fidelity of mankind is not to be disputed, since I never knew an instance of one who would withhold a largess of this kind from a friend who needed it.

I found here exhortations pronounced in all the several capacities in which men are qualified to impede others with advice. The counsel of parents was transacted in one place, that of friends in another; here the advice of husbands proceeded, and there of wives. I also heard guardians and tutors imparting discretion to those under their charge. There was besides much exhortation in a feeble voice from those who have no right from consanguinity, but are advisers by old age; it being a well known law of nature that when the faculties of a man are decayed through time so as to be of no use to himself, they become available to others. Besides these, I heard many of those universal advisers, whose vocation it is that nothing indiscreet be done by any of their acquaintance. In short, there are assembled in this place the words of all who have any kind of title to provide other people with prudence.

I listened for some time to these rejected counsels in the hope of discovering by what fault they had failed to persuade, and thinking they might possibly show what relation the adviser ought to bear to the sufferer in order to prevail. But I could draw no conclusions from what I heard. The generality of advisers succeed so far as to make their friend angry, but not to make him wise; and it is observable that the advised person, who can find any pretext for being incensed against his counsellor, always thinks it a valid reason for refusing to do what is recommended. The skill, therefore, must be to avoid all grounds of offence. But then occurs another difficulty; for he who can find no reasonable cause of displeasure either in the advice given, or in its coming from the particular person who offers it, is still more exasperated at finding himself without the means of anger. I think it may be remarked, that the most judicious advice is the most apt to be resented; for we are displeased with counsel only when we are conscious that it ought to be followed; when we are convinced that it is mistaken, we commonly receive it with proper gratitude, because we can neglect it without self-reproach. The interpretation we put upon good advice is, that our friend, in order to show his own wisdom, has made us dissatisfied with ourselves.

From what I heard, therefore, I could not judge what relation an adviser ought to stand in towards the person advised in order to obviate this anger, which is always ready. If it be a man who by situation has some right and authority to advise, the dictation is intolerable; and if he has no such right, his impertinent interference is not to be borne.

Nor could I learn any thing as to the manner in which advice ought to be bestowed; for I heard voices in this place advising in every possible variety of style, and by their being here I knew they had failed to persuade.

Some advisers tried to make men wise by reproach, others applied entreaty, and a third class taught by alternately railing and beseeching. One voice conveyed prudence by a hint, another by resolute frankness; some pretended great alarm, which made silence impossible; and I thought that not the least plausible were the confident advisers, who had not a doubt that what they enjoined would be done: for I knew by experience that to refuse advice, offered confidently, and confront the surprise of the giver, requires great firmness. There was here, also, much of that counsel which enforces an action by showing that nothing else can possibly be done; and yet it appeared that the ingenuity of the advised person had found another way. I heard intermitting advice,—that which revives at stated times, and much, too, of the incessant counsel which never wants renewal.