in
the middle of which rose a mountain crowned with clouds. He joyfully
breathed the fresh breath of the moist air. Rain fell, and this rain was
so pleasant that the holy man said to the Lord:

"Lord, this is the island of tears, the island of contrition."

The strand was deserted. Worn out with fatigue and hunger, he sat down
on a rock in the hollow of which there lay some yellow eggs, marked with
black spots, and about as large as those of a swan. But he did not touch
them, saying:

"Birds are the living praises of God. I should not like a single one of
these praises to be lacking through me."

And he munched the lichens which he tore from the crannies of the rocks.

The holy man had gone almost entirely round the island without meeting
any inhabitants, when he came to a vast amphitheatre formed of black and
red rocks whose summits became tinged with blue as they rose towards the
clouds, and they were filled with sonorous cascades.

The reflection from the polar ice had hurt the old man's eyes, but
a feeble gleam of light still shone through his swollen eyelids. He
distinguished animated forms which filled the rocks, in stages, like a
crowd of men on the tiers of an amphitheatre. And at the same time, his
ears, deafened by the continual noises of the sea, heard a feeble sound
of voices. Thinking that what he saw were men living under the natural
law, and that the Lord had sent him to teach them the Divine law, he
preached the gospel to them.

Mounted on a lofty stone in the midst of the wild circus:

"Inhabitants of this island," said he, "although you be of small
stature, you look less like a band of fishermen and mariners than like
the senate of a judicious republic. By your gravity, your silence, your
tranquil deportment, you form on this wild rock an assembly comparable
to the Conscript Fathers at Rome deliberating in the temple of Victory,
or rather, to the philosophers of Athens disputing on the benches of the
Areopagus. Doubtless you possess neither their science nor their genius,
but perhaps in the sight of God you are their superiors. I believe that
you are simple and good. As I went round your island I saw no image
of murder, no sign of carnage, no enemies' heads or scalps hung from a
lofty pole or nailed to the doors of your villages. You appear to me
to have no arts and not to work in metals. But your hearts are pure
and your hands are innocent, and the truth will easily enter into your
souls."