Jack had often amused himself at the expense
of the anthropophagi, but here he was actually within their grasp.
Though death terminates the sorrows and the sufferings of man, and
though the result is the same in whatever shape it comes, yet there
are circumstances which cause its approach to be regarded with terror
and dismay. In one's bed, exhausted by old age or disease, the lips
only open to give utterance to a sigh of pain; life, then, is a burden
that is laid down without reluctance; we glide imperceptibly and
almost voluntarily into eternity.
At twenty years of age, however, when we are full of health and ardor,
the case is very different. Then we are at the threshold of hope and
happiness; our illusions have not had time to fade, the future is a
brilliant meteor sparkling in sunshine. At that age our seas are
always calm, and the rocks and shoals are all concealed. Our barks
glide jauntily along, the sailors sing merrily, the perils are
shrouded in romance, and the flag flutters gaily in the breeze. Then
life is not abandoned without a tear of regret.
To die in the midst of one's friends is not to quit them entirely.
They come to see us through the marble or stone in which we are
shrouded. It is another thing to have no other sepulchre than the
aesophagus of a cannibal. How the recollections of the past darted into
Jack's mind! He felt that he loved those whom he was on the point of
leaving a thousand times more than he did before.
Pages:
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363