The same lady was no longer in sight, but he was acquainted with another of as much beauty and ambiguity, every age being furnished with such enterprises, and to her he immediately had recourse through the inspiration of his bottle, soliciting her by every known artifice, to the great amusement of many observers, and the surprise of his friends; for before this he had always conformed himself to the lapse of time, and never pretended to an indiscretion above his years. This hope continued to molest him for three weeks, during which he was indefatigable; but the effects of the draught having then passed away, he discovered the fallacy, and was in great confusion at what he had been doing. He told me that if he was to commit such absurdities through his bottle, he should prefer despair and dejection. I advised him to shake his bottle thoroughly, so as to confound all the hopes together before he poured out a draught, whence I conceived that he would not be instigated to any single project, but obtain only a general encouragement. This he practises with great success, repeating his draught from time to time; after each dose, he is possessed with a conviction of some speedy good fortune, though he can gain no insight into the particular nature of it, and he is thus quite fortified against the melancholy of old age. It is true that to drink for hope and prosperity is not a new invention; but the complacency obtained in the manner I describe has the advantage of not being followed by any of those injuries which attend the peace of mind from a common bottle.
Leaving the House of Hopes, and pursuing my travels, I met with an old gentleman, who told me he had come to the moon in search of the time that he had lost during his life; "for," said he, "if I could recover all the hours that I have mis-applied, I should be a young man again."
"But," said I, "is it not probable, that if these hours had to be employed again, they would be engaged in the very same occupations which have brought them to the moon before?"
"No," he answered, "I believe there are some old men who lament their loss of time only because it is a loss of pleasure; but I rejoice in having freed myself from my errors. I lately undertook a complete reformation of my habits, and succeeded. I wish to regain my time, only that I might pass it all in the virtue which I now enjoy; for, alas! I have discovered the pleasure of virtue so late, that I cannot expect much time for the practice of it."
I walked on with this old man till we came to a building, which, according to the information of one whom we met, contained "lost vices." Inquiring what was meant by that expression, I was told that in this building are preserved all the profligate habits, which have been unwillingly relinquished by those, whom old age alone can reform, and who never part with an infirmity till they lose the faculty of being frail.
We entered the building; and found, as before described, a large room with innumerable shelves, on which the bad habits are kept by a singular contrivance. The vices of every man are contained in a little instrument, exactly resembling in appearance and use that ingenious toy called a kaleidoscope. On each of these instruments is inscribed the name of the libertine who has filled it. On one of them I observed the name of a man with whose past life and character I am acquainted. He once accepted very frankly of all the blessings offered him by Providence, but now lives in the strict practice of every virtue which decrepitude enforces. I took his kaleidoscope from the shelf; and looking into it, saw him carousing at a table with some companions, according to the morals of a former time, when the worship of Bacchus was more diligently prosecuted than it is now. I knew his person, though in this scene he was a young man. His colleagues I had never seen, for I believe he had buried them all by his example. Their figures in this vision were very small, but quite perfect, and all their looks and gestures faithfully exhibited; no sounds were heard, though much clamour was intimated. I could perceive that songs were sung, and stories told, with all the usual literature of such meetings. While I was entertained by seeing this company drink in miniature, I accidentally gave the kaleidoscope a turn, upon which the scene vanished in an instant, and another adventure appeared, the same man being still the hero. He was now soliciting a beautiful girl with great energy; and, from her reluctance and alarm, I supposed it to be the first interview. He seemed to make no progress while I held the kaleidoscope still; but I gave it a slight turn, which advanced his suit considerably, and a great part of her austerity was now omitted; whence I found that I must continue to turn the instrument, in order to bring his addresses to a conclusion. I therefore turned it round very gradually, not to lose any stage of the transaction, according to the injunction of Ovid:—
Non est properanda voluptas,
At sensim longâ prolicienda morâ.
When this exploit was ended, another took its place; and I found that by still turning the kaleidoscope, I might bring all the debaucheries of this old man in succession before me. But my curiosity did not last through many years of his life, which was crowded with incidents.
I lamented that Le Sage and Smollett had not had access to these kaleidoscopes for inspiration. If there is now any writer who believes himself their descendant, he could not employ his time more profitably than in a journey to the moon, in order to consult these little instruments, from which he may derive a fertility of adventures that he cannot possibly gain by observation of real life. The readers too of such novels, as well as the authors, may find here the best of libraries: for, by a few turns of a kaleidoscope, they will pass through a greater variety of adventures than by turning over a hundred pages; and no mortal pen can relate an enterprise with as much spirit and fidelity as one of these kaleidoscopes. I had recourse to several of them, and gained much useful information.