Last words of Thomas Carlyle - Warburg Institute

14 WOTTON KEINFREDbusied only with the culture of his land, amused onlyby studies of philosophy and literature, which no onebut himself understood or valued. To neighbours hewas an object of spleen, of aversion ;yet on the wholeof envy rather than of pity, for he seemed complete inhimself, free of all men, fearless of all men, a veryking in his own domain. Even happy he mightappear, but it was not so, for the worm of pride wasstill gnawing at his heart, and his philosophy pretendednot to root it out but only to conceal it.In a few years his deep-shrouded chagrin underminedhis health, a slight sickness gathered unexpectedaggravation, and he sank darkly into the grave with allhis ineffectual nobleness, wayward and M'ilful in himself,mistaken by the world, and broken by it thoughhe could not be bent. Of this parent Wotton recollectednothing, save his strong, earnest, silent figure,and a vague unpleasant impression from him ofrestraint and awe.The mother, to whose sole guidance he was nowcommitted, had a mother's love for her boy, and wasin all respects a true-minded woman; but for sucha spirit as Wotton's no complete though in somepoints a most precious instructress. She trained hisheart to the love of all truth and virtue ; but of hisother faculties she took little heed, and could takelittle proper charge. To this good being, intellect, oreven activity, except when ^directed to the purelyuseful, was no all-important matter ; for her soul was