e signs of
a terrible transformation; we hid the corpse in a double shroud. So
covered, he looked like an Egyptian mummy enveloped in the bandages of
the tomb, and I cannot describe the feelings of joy and freedom which I
experienced at sight of him at that moment. There was a white mist over
everything, the forest trees stood out against the sky, and the funeral
lights were still shining in the pallor of the dawning day; the birds
were twittering, and I recalled a verse of his poem: 'He flies away like
a winged bird to meet the rising sun in the pine wood,' or, to put it
better, I heard his voice uttering these words and the whole day long
they haunted me with their enchantment. They placed him in the
ante-chamber, the doors were left ajar, and the cool morning air
penetrated into the room, mingled with a refreshing rain, which had just
then begun to fall.... My soul was filled with emotions, till then
unknown, and upon it there flamed forth like summer lightning such
thoughts as I can never repeat again: a thousand recollections of the
dead were wafted to me on the fumes of the incense, in the chords of the
music." ... And here the artist, in the midst of his aesthetic
abstraction, converts his genuine grief into a thing of beauty, so that
in his enlightened view the death of his beloved friend not only causes
him no pang, or suffering, but, on the contrary, gives him a mystic
resignation, incomprehensible to ordinary men, an ecstasy that is
foreign to and removed from life, a joy that is entirely impersonal.

During his sojourn in Jerusalem, Flaubert paid a visit to the lepers.
Here is the account of his impressions: "This place (that is the plot of
land set aside for those who are afflicted with leprosy) is situated
outside the town, near a marsh, whence a host of crows and vultures
arose and took their flight at our approach. The poor sufferers, both
women and men (in all about a dozen persons) lie all huddled together in
a heap. They have no covering on their heads, and there is no
distinction of sex. Their bodies are covered with putrefying scars, and
they have sombre cavities in place of noses. I was forced to put on my
eye-glasses in order to discover what was hanging to the ends of their
arms. Were they hands, or were they some greenish-looking rags? They
were hands! (_There_ is a prize for colourists!) A sick man was dragging
himself to the water's edge to drink some water. Through his mouth,
which yawned bla