Here he abruptly broke off the conversation; and, after continuing thoughtful and silent for some time, he remarked: 

“But do not forget where we are.  Nature demands her accustomed rest, and let us prepare to indulge her.  I feel little inclined to sleep at present; yet, by the time you have taken some hours’ repose, I shall probably require the same refreshment.”

I would willingly have listened longer; but, yielding to his prudent suggestion, again composed myself to rest, and left my good monitor to his melancholy meditations.  When I had slept about four hours, I was awakened by the Brahmin, in whose arms I found myself, and who, feeble as he was, handled me with the ease that a nurse does a child, or rather, as a child does her doll.  On looking around, I found myself lying on what had been the ceiling of our chamber, which still, however, felt like the bottom.  My eyes and my feelings were thus in collision, and I could only account for what I saw, by supposing that the machine had been turned upside down.  I was bewildered and alarmed.

After enjoying my surprise for a moment, the Brahmin observed:  “We have, while you were asleep, passed the middle point between the earth’s and the moon’s attraction, and we now gravitate less towards our own planet than her satellite.  I took the precaution to move you, before you fell by your own gravity, from what was lately the bottom, to that which is now so, and to keep you in this place until you were retained in it by the moon’s attraction; for, though your fall would have been, at this point, like that of a feather, yet it would have given you some shock and alarm.  The machine, therefore, has undergone no change in its position or course; the change is altogether in our feelings.”

The Brahmin then, after having looked through either telescope, but for a longer time through the one at the bottom, and having performed his customary devotions, soon fell into a slumber, but not into the same quiet sleep as before, for he was often interrupted by sudden starts, of so distressing a character, that I was almost tempted to wake him.  After a while, however, he seemed more composed, when I betook myself to the telescope turned towards the earth.

The earth’s appearance I found so diminished as not to exceed four times the diameter of the moon, as seen from the earth, and its whole face was entirely changed.  After the first surprise, I recollected it was the moon I was then regarding, and my curiosity was greatly awakened.  On raising myself up, and looking through the upper telescope, the earth presented an appearance not very dissimilar; but the outline of her continents and oceans were still perceptible, in different shades, and capable of being easily recognised; but the bright glare of the sun made the surfaces of both bodies rather dim and pale.