How long are the days, my dear Aza, when one reckons their passage! time, like space, is known only by its limits. Our hopes seem to me the hopes of time; if they quit us without being distinctly marked, we perceive no more of their duration, than of the air which fills the vast expanse.

Ever since the sad moment of our separation, my heart and mind worn by misfortune, have been sunk by that total absence, that oblivion which is horrid to nature, the image of nothing: The day had passed away without my knowing it; for I had not one hope to fix my attention: But that pleasing sensation now marks every moment; their duration appears to me infinite, and what appears most wonderful, in recovering the tranquility of my mind, I recover at the same time a quickness of thought.

Since my soul has been capable of joy, an infinity of objects present themselves, and employ it even to fatigue: Scenes of pleasure and happiness succeed each other alternately; fresh ideas are easily received, and some are imprinted without my seeking for them, and even before I am sensible of them.

Within these two days, I understand several words of the Cacique's language, which I was before utterly ignorant of. But they are only terms applicable to objects, not expressive of my thoughts, nor sufficient to make me understand those of others: They give me some intelligence however, which conduces to my satisfaction.

I know that the name of the Cacique is Deterville; that of the floating-house, a ship; and the country we are going to, is called France.

When I first heard the name I was alarmed, as not remembering to have heard any province of your kingdom so called; but reflecting on the infinite number of countries under your dominion, the names of which I have forgotten, my fears disappeared. Indeed, how could it long subsist with that solid confidence which the view of the Sun continually gives me! No, my dear Aza, that divine luminary enlightens none but his children: It would be criminal in me to doubt this.