_The best perhaps, and the least read of this history._
_Mangogul's dream, or a voyage into the region of hypotheses._
"Waa," says Mangogul, yawning and rubbing his eyes, "my head achs.
Let nobody evermore talk philosophy to me. Such conversations are
unwholsome. Last night I lay on empty ideas; and instead of sleeping
like a Sultan, my brain work'd more than those of my ministers do in
a year. You laugh; but to convince you that I do not exaggerate, and
to take my revenge for the bad night which your reasonings gave me, I
enjoin you the penance of hearing my dream in its full extent.
"As soon as I began to nod, and my imagination to take its flight,
I saw an odd animal bounce by my side. He had the head of an eagle,
the feet of a griffon, the body of a horse, and the tail of a lion. I
seized him, notwithstanding his prancing; and holding by his mane, I
nimbly sprung on his back. Immediately he spread out long wings, which
issued from his flanks, and I felt myself carried in the air with
incredible swiftness.
"After driving a vast way, I espied, in the emptiness of space, a
building suspended as by enchantment. It was a vast one. I will not say
that it was faulty in its foundation; for it had none. Its columns,
which were not half a foot in diameter, ran up out of sight, and
supported arches, which would not have been visible, were it not for
the symmetrical lights made in them.
"At the entrance into this edifice it was that my beast first stop'd.
At first I was in a doubt whether I should alight: for I apprehended
less danger in sitting on my hippogriffon, than in walking under this
portico. However, encouraged by the multitude of its inhabitants, and
by a remarkable security, which was predominant in their countenances,
I alight, go forward, mix with the crowd, and make my observations on
those that composed it.
"They were old men, either bloated or feeble; without _Embonpoint_ and
strength, and almost all deform'd. The head of one was too little, the
arms of another too short. One was hump-back'd, another bandy-legg'd.
Most of them had no feet, and walk'd on crutches. A breath threw them
down, and they remain'd on the ground, till some new comer was pleased
to lift them up. All these defects notwithstanding, they pleased at
first sight. They had in their physiognomy somewhat engaging and
confident. They were almost naked: for all their cloathing consisted of
a small rag of stuff, which did not cover the hundredth part of their
body.
"I continued to pierce the crowd, and got to the foot of a rostrum, for
which a cobweb served as a canopy. The boldness of this rostrum was of
a piece with that of the building. To me it seemed placed on the point
of a needle, and to support itself there in æquilibrio. I trembled a
hundred times for the person, who was in it. He was an old man, with a
long beard, as wither'd and naked as any of his disciples: he had a cup
full of a subtil fluid before him, into which he dipp'd a straw-pipe;
then put it to his mouth, and blew bubbles to a crowd of spectators
around him, who were using their utmost endeavours to drive them up to
the clouds.
"'Where am I?' said I to myself, all in confusion at these childish
tricks. 'What means this blower of bubbles, and all these decrepit
infants employ'd in making them fly about? Who will let me into the
secret of these things?'--Besides, the little scraps of stuff had
struck me; and I observed that the larger they were, the less those
that wore them interested themselves in the bubbles. This singular
remark embolden'd me to accost him, who was the least undress'd of the
company.
"I saw one, whose shoulders were half covered with pieces so well
fitted together, that the seams were not to be seen. He walk'd forward
and backward in the crowd, with very little concern for what they were
doing. He had an affable air, a smiling mouth, a noble gait, a mild
look; and I went directly to him, and asked him without ceremony: 'Who
are you? Where am I? And who are all these folks?'--He answered, 'I
am Plato. You are in the region of hypotheses, and these folks are
systematics.' 'But by what chance,' replied I, 'is the divine Plato
here, and what does he do among these madmen?'--'Raising recruits,'
said he. 'At a distance from this Portico I have a sanctuary, whither I
conduct those who abandon systems.' 'And how do you employ them?' 'In
knowing man, practising virtue, and sacrificing to the graces'--'These
are noble employments: but what mean these shreds of fluff, whereby you
look more like beggers than philosophers?'--'Oh! what a question do you
propose to me,' said he with a sigh, 'and what thoughts do you bring
back to my mind? This temple was formerly that of philosophy. Alas! how
much this place is changed! The chair of Socrates was here.'--'How,'
said I, interrupting him, 'had Socrates a straw, and did he blow
bubbles?'--'No, no,' replied Plato, 'it was not by such means that
he merited of the Gods the name of the wisest of men. His constant
occupation, during life, was forming heads and hearts. The secret was
lost at his death. Socrates died, and the bright days of philosophy
were no more. These pieces of stuff, which those very systematics think
it an honour to wear, are scraps of his garment. Scarcely had his eyes
been closed, when those, who aspired to the title of philosophers,
seized his robe, and tore it in pieces.' 'I understand,' said I, 'these
pieces served as tickets both to them and their long posterity.'--'Who
will collect these scraps,' continued Plato, 'and restore us Socrates's
robe?
"While he was uttering these words, I saw at a distance a child walking
towards us in a slow but sure pace. He had a little head, slender
body, weak arms and short legs: but all these parts increased in
all dimensions, according as he came forward. In the progress of his
successive growth, he appear'd to me under a hundred different forms;
I saw him directing a long telescope towards the heavens, estimating
the fall of bodies by means of a pendulum, determining the weight of
the air by a tube fill'd with quicksilver, and discomposing light with
a prism. He was now become an enormous Colossus: his head touch'd the
heavens, his feet were lost in the abyss, and his arms reach'd from one
to the other pole. With his right hand he brandished a torch, whose
light spread a vast way in the sky, enlightened even the bottom of the
waters, and penetrated into the entrails of the earth. I ask'd Plato,
what that gigantic figure was, that was coming towards us. 'It is
experience,' said he. Scarcely had he made me this short answer, when I
saw experience draw near, and the columns of the portico of hypotheses
to shake, its arches to sink in, and its pavement to crack under our
feet. 'Let us fly,' said Plato, 'let us fly: this edifice has but a
moment to stand.' At these words he departs, and I follow him. The
Colossus arrives, strikes the portico, it tumbles down with a frightful
noise, and I awake."
"Ah! Prince," cried Mirzoza, "'tis you that ought to dream. I would
indeed be very glad, that you had had a good night: but now that I know
your dream, I should be very sorry that you had not dream'd it."
"Madam," said Mangogul, "I could point out nights better spent than
that of this dream, which gives you so much pleasure; and if I had
been master of making the journey, or not; it is very probable, that,
not hoping to find you in the country of hypotheses, I should have bent
my course elsewhere. And then, either I should not have the head-ach,
which I actually feel, or at least I should have reason to make myself
easy under it."
"Prince," replied Mirzoza, "it is to be hoped, that it will soon go
off; and that one or two experiments of your ring will rid you of
it." "I must try," said Mangogul. The conversation lasted some time
longer between the Sultan and Mirzoza; so that he did not quit her
till eleven, when he went upon the expedition related in the following
chapter.