when we see symptoms of a disordered intellect, we say the mind wanders, which evidently alludes to a part of it rambling to a distant region, as is the moon.  We say too, a man is “out of his head,” that is, his mind being in another man’s head, must of course be out of his own.  To “know no more than the man in the moon,” is a proverbial expression for ignorance, and is without meaning, unless it be considered to refer to the Glonglims.[8]

“We say that an insane man is ‘distracted,’ by which we mean that his mind is drawn two different ways.  So also, we call a lunatic a man beside himself, which most distinctly expresses the two distinct bodies his mind now animates.  There are, moreover, many other analogous expressions, as ‘moonstruck,’ ‘deranged,’ ‘extravagant,’ and some others, which, altogether, form a mass of concurring testimony that it is impossible to resist.”

Leaving this ingenious badinage with the defence of the serious and sentimental Schiller,

    “Hoher Sinn liegt oft in Kindischen Spiele,”

we return to our travellers, who, at their lodgings, meet with an instance of lunar puritanism—­the family eating those portions of fruits, vegetables, &c., which are thrown away by us, and vice versa, “from a persuasion that all pleasure received through the senses is sinful, and that man never appears so acceptable in the sight of the Deity, as when he rejects all the delicacies of the palate, as well as other sensual gratifications, and imposes on himself that food to which he feels naturally most repugnant.”

Avarice is satirized by the story of one of these Glonglims, who is occupied in making nails, and then dropping them into a well—­refusing to exchange them for bread or clothes, notwithstanding his starved, haggard appearance, and evident desire for the food proffered:—­

    “Mettant toute sa gloire et son souverain bien
    A grossir un tresor qui ne lui sert de rien.”

And this is followed by a picture of reckless prodigality in another Glonglim.

We pass over the description of the physical peculiarities of the moon, which seem to be according to the received opinions of astronomers, as well as the satire on National Prejudices, in the persons of the Hilliboos and Moriboos, and that on the Godwinian system of morals.

An indisposition experienced by Atterley, occasions his introduction to Vindar,[9] a celebrated physician, botanist, &c., on whose opinions we have a keen satire.

On leaving Vindar’s house, they observed a short man, (Napoleon,) preparing to climb to the top of a plane tree, on which there was one of the tail feathers of a flamingo; and this he would only mount in one way—­on the shoulders of his men:—­