ning
over, and kissing with eager fondness, lips that were insensible to the
warm pressure. Starting at the sight of the sage, she fixed her eyes on
him, "Wake her, ah! wake her," she cried, "or the sea will catch us."
Again he felt compassion, for he saw that the mother slept the sleep of
death. He stretched out his hand, and, smoothing his brow, invited her to
approach; but she still intreated him to wake her mother, whom she
continued to call, with an impatient tremulous voice. To detach her from
the body by persuasion would not have been very easy. Sagestus had a
quicker method to effect his purpose; he took out a box which contained a
soporific powder, and as soon as the fumes reached her brain, the powers
of life were suspended.

He carried her directly to his hut, and left her sleeping profoundly on
his rushy couch.

CHAP. II.

AGAIN Sagestus approached the dead, to view them with a more scrutinizing
eye. He was perfectly acquainted with the construction of the human body,
knew the traces that virtue or vice leaves on the whole frame; they were
now indelibly fixed by death; nay more, he knew by the shape of the solid
structure, how far the spirit could range, and saw the barrier beyond
which it could not pass: the mazes of fancy he explored, measured the
stretch of thought, and, weighing all in an even balance, could tell whom
nature had stamped an hero, a poet, or philosopher.

By their appearance, at a transient glance, he knew that the vessel must
have contained many passengers, and that some of them were above the
vulgar, with respect to fortune and education; he then walked leisurely
among the dead, and narrowly observed their pallid features.

His eye first rested on a form in which proportion reigned, and, stroking
back the hair, a spacious forehead met his view; warm fancy had revelled
there, and her airy dance had left vestiges, scarcely visible to a mortal
eye. Some perpendicular lines pointed out that melancholy had
predominated in his constitution; yet the straggling hairs of his
eye-brows showed that anger had often shook his frame; indeed, the four
temperatures, like the four elements, had resided in this little world,
and produced harmony. The whole visage was bony, and an energetic frown
had knit the flexible skin of his brow; the kingdom within had been
extensive; and the wild creations of fancy had there "a local habitation
and a name." So exquisite was his sensibility, so quick his