Endymion after this offered to Lucian
letters of naturalisation as a Lunatic, which
he declined, but of which a copy was taken;
and a copy of the said letters of naturalisation
will be presented to every gentleman or lady
who shall have paid ten shillings for
admission to the front seats at the proposed
entertainment.

Quitting the Lunar Island, Lucian and his
friends sailed for a long way, touching only
at the morning star to take in water. At
last they came to the capital of the Land of
Lamps, where they stopped for a night,
having lamps lighted everywhere about
them. On the next day they came down by
a city in the clouds, and after four days
descended again gently to the sea, which
they found calm. Unluckily, however, they
soon got among big fishes, whereof one had
teeth like steeples and was fifteen hundred
leagues in length of body. Into the mouth
of that whale the ship rushed as into a
whirlpool, and was carried safely down the
creature's throat. At first it was all dark
inside, but when the whale came to gape and
let the light in there was visible a world of
other fish, with carcases of men and bales of
merchandise, anchors and masts of ships.
Towards the middle also there was earth
with mountains, made probably by the
quantity of mud which the great monster had
swallowed. On the land there was a forest,
thirty miles in compass, among the trees
of which herons and halcyons were flying.
After some days, Lucian and six of the crew
went inland and discovered a small temple
built to Neptune, heard also the barking of a
dog, and saw smoke at a distance. So they
were led to an old man and his son, who said
that they had lived there miserably for
seven-and-twenty years. There was no lack of
food, but there was great trouble with the
natives, more especially the pickled-men, who
have the face of a lobster and the body of an
eel. One of these pickled-men will be
included among the curiosities belonging to the
entertainment. As the natives of all kinds,
although numerous, had no arms but
fish-bones, it was determined by Lucian and his
fellow sailors to make war upon them; and
so Lucian was engaged in his second war, of
which also a graphic account will be given,
illustrated by a heavy rain of fish-bones,
which will fly like hail across the room, to
represent the arrows of the pickled-men, the
carcinochiers, the crab-tritons, and other
wild monsters against whom that war was
waged.

Lucian and his companions having lived in
this way for more than a year and a half, it
happened, on the fifth day of the ninth month
at about the second gaping of the monster—
who gaped once every hour, and so enabled
them to reckon time—that they heard a vast
noise without, and creeping up to those parts
of the fish which, lying near its mouth, were
thinly inhabited, being made swampy by the
constant overflow of water, they saw the
outer sky and water, and a great combat of
giants about the stealing by one party of a
herd of dolphins. They were themselves,
however, unable to escape, and though they
afterwards dug a tunnel six hundred paces
long through the creature's side, yet they
could find no outlet. Then it occurred to
them to fire the forest on the island; and so
cause his death. It burnt for seven days
before it made the monster cough and choke
a little; then, however, he began to gape
more dully and grow sick and faint. On the
eleventh day they perceived by the smell of
him that he was dying, and propped open his
mouth with long beams, that they might not
be shut in and lost entirely. Then after the
three days' labour they launched their ship
safely again into the open sea.

So sailing on they found nothing unusual
until they got into a sea of milk—cups of the
milk will be handed round—whereon the
Princess Tyro, daughter of Salmoneus,
governed an Island of Cheese. Plates of the
cheese will be distributed. Continuing their
way over the Atlantic, they arrived finally
at the Isle of the Blessed, governed by
Rhadamanthus. There the corn grows in little
loaves, needing neither to be ground, kneaded
nor baked; the inhabitants sit outside their
city upon beds of flowers in the Elysian fields,
and have meat blown to them by the winds,
while crystal trees droop over them,
producing for truit glasses of all sorts, which
are no sooner plucked than they are full of
wine. A tankard plucked from one of these
trees, full of spiced sack, will be sent round
among the visitors as a loving cup, and it
will at the same time be made to rain over
the whole room slices of meat and drops of
gravy. While the company assembled are
enjoying this, a grand tableau of the Elysian
fields will be displayed in a blaze of green
light, and so the entertainment will be brought
triumphantly to a conclusion.

James Gulliver respectfully submits that
the above programme promises an amount of
novelty and excitement that has never yet
been provided, either in London or New
York, to the lovers of the marvellous. He
begs, therefore, to entreat that the same
favour may be shown to him that has been
already so liberally bestowed on other
exhibitions similar in their design.