"It is," resumed the secretary, "like an assembly of fair and brown women, whose dresses—"
"What a plague have I to do with your brunettes?" said our traveller.
"Then it is like a gallery of pictures, the strokes of which—"
"Not at all," answered Micromegas, "I tell you, once for all, nature is like nature, and comparisons are odious."
"Well, to please you," said the secretary—
"I won't be pleased," replied the Sirian, "I want to be instructed; begin, therefore, without further preamble, and tell me how many senses the people of this world enjoy."
"We have seventy and two," said the academician, "but we are daily complaining of the small number, as our imagination transcends our wants, for, with the seventy-two senses, our five moons and ring, we find ourselves very much restricted; and notwithstanding our curiosity, and the no small number of those passions that result from these few senses, we have still time enough to be tired of idleness."
"I sincerely believe what you say," cried Micromegas, for, though we Sirians have near a thousand different senses, there still remains a certain vague desire, an unaccountable inquietude incessantly admonishing us of our own unimportance, and giving us to understand that there are other beings who are much our superiors in point of perfection. I
