78 A TOUR BOUND MY 6AKDEN. 



rous, perhaps, than the sands of the sea, which gravitate round 

 the sun 1 You will be very proud when you have made the 

 tour of our world; and there are above us more worlds than 

 you will in your voyages shake grains of sand from your feet, 

 and aU these worlds are unalterable by you ; there are some 

 of these worlds so distant, that each of them forms in our 

 eyes nothing but an impalpable grain of luminoiis dust. 

 There are probably some so distant from us that their light 

 has not yet reached us since the creation of our world, 

 although light travels four millions of leagues in a minute. 



Now, these are what I call voyages and distances; what 

 signify the two or three thousand leagues you will have 

 travelled when you return? Truly, the advantage is not 

 equal to the trouble and danger. 



These worlds, are they destined to receive the souls of 

 those who die? is death the commencement of immortahty? 

 at that awful piomeut do the wings of our soul develop 

 themselves like the wings of the butterfly which issues from 

 the winding-sheet it has spun for itself when a caterpillar? 



The wind brings me, in soft breathings, delicious odours 

 and distant sounds. From afar I can catch the notes of a 

 horn, almost lost in the rustling of the trees; the air becomes 

 fresh, I will go to m^ nest. 



Have you, in the course of your day's journey, seen as 

 many singular things as I have perceived, without changing 

 my place, reclining on my back on the grass? 



To-morrow I shall stretch myself on my face. 



