His Arrival and the Beauty of the Country Where He Landed

In fine, after I had been a very long while in falling, as I judged, for the violence of my Precipitation hindered me from observing it more exactly: The last thing I can remember is, that I found my self under a Tree, entangled with three or four pretty large Branches which I had broken off by my fall; and my face besmeared with an Apple, that had dashed against it.

In the end, I judged that I had been falling for a very long time. The violence of my fall kept me from measuring the time more precisely. The last thing I remember is finding myself under a tree, tangled in three or four fairly large branches I had broken off in my fall. My face was smeared with an apple that had smashed against it.

By good luck that place was, as you shall know by and by * * * * * *¹ that you may very well conclude, that had it not been for that Chance, if I had had a thousand lives, they had been all lost. I have many times since reflected upon the vulgar Opinion, That if one precipitate himself from a very high place, his breath is out before he reach the ground; and from my adventure I conclude it to be false, or else that the efficacious Juyce of that Fruit,² which squirted into my mouth, must needs have recalled my soul, that was not far from my Carcass, which was still hot and in a disposition of exerting the Functions of Life. The truth is, so soon as I was upon the ground my pain was gone, before I could think what it was; and the Hunger, which I felt during my Voyage, was fully satisfied with the sense that I had lost it.³

Luckily, that place was, as you will soon learn, * * * * * *¹ You can easily conclude that without that chance, a thousand lives would all have been lost. Since then, I have often thought about a common belief. People say that if someone falls from a great height, they stop breathing before they reach the ground. My experience leads me to conclude that this belief is false. Otherwise, the powerful juice of that fruit,² which squirted into my mouth, must have recalled my soul. My soul had not gone far from my body, which was still warm and capable of living. In truth, as soon as I reached the ground, my pain was gone before I could think what it was. And the hunger I had felt during my voyage was fully satisfied by the feeling that it was gone.³

When I was got up, I had hardly taken notice of the largest of Four great Rivers, which by their conflux make a Lake; when the Spirit, or invisible Soul, of Plants that breath upon that Country, refreshed my Brain with a delightful smell: And I found that the Stones there were neither hard nor rough; but that they carefully softened themselves when one trode upon them.

When I got up, I had hardly noticed the largest of four great rivers that flow together to form a lake. Then the spirit, or invisible soul, of the plants that breathe upon that country refreshed my brain with a delightful smell. And I found that the stones there were neither hard nor rough. They carefully softened themselves when someone stepped on them.

⁴ I presently lighted upon a Walk with five Avenues, in figure like to a Star; the Trees whereof seemed to reach up to the Skie, a green plot of lofty Boughs: Casting up my Eyes from the root to the top, and then making the same Survey downwards, I was in doubt whether the Earth carried them, or they the Earth, hanging by their Roots: Their high and stately Forehead seemed also to bend, as it were by force, under the weight of the Celestial Globes; and one would say, that their Sighs and out-stretched Arms, wherewith they embraced the Firmament, demanded of the Stars the bounty of their purer Influences before they had lost any thing of their Innocence in the contagious Bed of the Elements. The Flowers there on all hands, without the aid of any other Gardiner but Nature, send out so sweet (though wild) a Perfume, that it rouzes and delights the Smell: There the incarnate of a Rose upon the Bush, and the lively Azure of a Violet under the Rushes, captivating the Choice, make each of themselves to be judged the Fairest: There the whole Year is Spring; there no poysonous Plant sprouts forth, but is as soon destroyed; there the Brooks by an agreeable murmuring, relate their Travels to the Pebbles; there Thousands of Quiristers make the Woods resound with their melodious Notes; and the quavering Clubs of these divine Musicians are so universal, that every Leaf of the Forest seems to have borrowed the Tongue and shape of a Nightingale; nay, and the Nymph Eccho is so delightful⁵ with their Airs, that to hear her repeat, one would say, She were sollicitous to learn them. On the sides of that Wood are Two Meadows, whose continued Verdure seems an Emerauld reaching out of sight. The various Colours, which the Spring bestows upon the numerous little Flowers that grow there, so delightfully confounds and mingles their Shadows, that it is hard to be known, whether these Flowers shaken with a gentle Breeze pursue themselves, or fly rather from the Caresses of the Wanton Zephyrus; one would likewise take that Meadow for an Ocean, because, as the Sea, it presents no Shoar to the view; insomuch, that mine Eye fearing it might lose it self, having roamed so long, and discovered no Coast, sent my Thoughts presently thither; and my Thoughts, imagining it to be the end of the World, were willing to be perswaded, that such charming places had perhaps forced the Heavens to descend and join the Earth there. In the midst of that vast and pleasant Carpet, a rustick Fountain bubbles up in Silver Purles, crowning its enamelled Banks with Sets of Violets, and multitudes of other little Flowers, that seem to strive which shall first behold it self in that Chrystal Myrroir: It is as yet in the Cradle, being but newly Born, and its Young and smooth Face shews not the least Wrinkle. The large Compasses it fetches, in circling within it self, demonstrate its unwillingness to leave its native Soyl: And as if it had been ashamed to be caressed in presence of its Mother, with a Murmuring it thrust back my hand that would have touched it: The Beasts that came to drink there, more rational than those of our World, seemed surprised to see it day upon the Horizon, whilst the Sun was with the Antipodes; and durst not bend downwards upon the Brink, for fear of falling into the Firmament.

⁴ I soon came upon a walk with five avenues, arranged like a star. Its trees seemed to reach the sky, forming a green canopy of lofty branches. I looked up from their roots to their tops, then back down again. I could not tell whether the earth supported them, or they supported the earth, which hung from their roots. Their tall, majestic crowns also seemed to bend under the weight of the heavenly spheres. With their sighs and outstretched arms embracing the heavens, they seemed to beg the stars for their purest gifts. They wanted these gifts before they lost any of their innocence in the corrupting bed of the elements. Flowers grew everywhere, tended by no gardener but Nature. They gave off a perfume so sweet, though wild, that it stirred and delighted the senses. The pink of a rose on its bush and the vivid blue of a violet beneath the rushes competed for attention. Each seemed the more beautiful. Spring lasts there all year. No poisonous plant sprouts without being destroyed at once. Brooks murmur pleasantly, telling the pebbles about their travels. Thousands of singers fill the woods with their melodious notes. These divine musicians sing together so widely that every leaf in the forest seems to have borrowed a nightingale’s voice and shape. Even the nymph Eccho is so delighted⁵ by their songs that her echoes sound as though she were eager to learn them. On either side of the wood lies a meadow. Their unbroken green looks like an emerald stretching beyond sight. Spring gives the many little flowers growing there a variety of colors. These colors mingle and blur so delightfully that it is hard to tell what the flowers are doing. Shaken by a gentle breeze, they seem either to chase one another or to flee the caresses of playful Zephyrus. One might also take the meadow for an ocean, because, like the sea, it shows no shore. My eye wandered so long without finding a coast that it feared it might lose itself. It quickly sent my thoughts there. My thoughts imagined it was the end of the world, and were willing to believe that such charming places had perhaps forced the heavens to descend and join the earth there. In the middle of that vast and lovely carpet, a rustic fountain bubbles up in silvery ripples. Violets and countless other little flowers crown its colorful banks. They seem to compete to be the first to see themselves in its crystal mirror. The fountain is still in its cradle, having only just been born. Its young, smooth face shows not the slightest wrinkle. The wide circles it makes as it turns within itself show how unwilling it is to leave its native soil. I reached out to touch it, but it murmured and pushed my hand back. It seemed ashamed to be caressed in its mother’s presence. The beasts that came to drink there were more rational than those of our world. They seemed surprised to see daylight on the horizon while the sun was with the Antipodes. They dared not bend over the edge, for fear of falling into the heavens.

I must confess to you, That at the sight of so many Fine things, I found my self tickled with these agreeable Twitches, which they say the Embryo feels upon the infusion of its Soul: My old Hair fell off, and gave place for thicker and softer Locks: I perceived my Youth revived, my face grow ruddy, my natural Heat mingle gently again with my radical Moisture: And in a word, I grew younger again by at least Fourteen Years.

I must confess that the sight of so many beautiful things filled me with pleasant tingles. They say an embryo feels such tingles when its soul enters it. My old hair fell out, and thicker, softer locks grew in its place. I felt my youth returning, and my face grew rosy. My natural heat mingled gently once more with my vital moisture. In short, I grew at least fourteen years younger.