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CHAPTER YI. 
THE MUMMY, NYMPH, OR CHRYSALIS. 
LET us respect the childhood of the world. Let us 
pardon the early ages for the consolations and hopes 
which they drew from the strange drama represented 
by the Insect, the thoughts of immortality which 
grave Egypt founded upon it. This drama tran- 
quillized more hearts and wiped away more tears 
than all the mysteries of Canopus or the revels of 
Eleusis. 
it When the mourning widow, the eternal Isis, 
ever reproducing herself in eternal anguish, was 
snatched from her beloved Osiris, she reposed her 
hope of a future reunion on the sacred beetle, 
and hushed her sobs. 
art 
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NE lt Vie Cc 
What is death? What is life? What is the awakening, or what 
the slumber? Do you not see this little miracle, this dumb confidant of 
