Last words of Thomas Carlyle - Warburg Institute

WOTTON EEINFEED 129*A new day has risen, and like the "WanderingJew I must again set forth with the morning. Comeand wish me good speed ere I go ! A strange chancerestored me a friend, and inwith him, perhaps for ever.'Wotton made no loitering ;two hours I must partin few minutes, withproper guidance and announcement, he found himselfin a trim, quiet, littleparlour, where Jane Montagu,already in her travelling attu-e, received him withsmiles, beautiful in their sadness as a cloudy summermorn. Both parties looked embarrassed, as theynaturally felt, while there was so much demandingutterance, and no words in which it could be uttered.What change since these two had last met face toface ! Whata chasm now separated them, overwhich, in the pale dusk of memory, hovered past joys,mournfully beckoning them from afar, and as ifweeping that there was no return ! Those times werenow gone, that bUssful community of hfe had beenall rent asunder, and yet still her right hand was inhis, and they again stood near in space, though inrelation so widely divided ! A tear was gatheringin the bright eyes of Jane, which she fixed on theground, and through Wotton's heart were quiveringwild tones of remembrance and hope, wailing as ofinfinite grief, and touches of rapture rising almost topain. He gazed silently on that loved form ; therewas no-motion in her hand, but she timidly raised herface, where over soft, quick blushes tears were stealing.