Last words of Thomas Carlyle - Warburg Institute

;WOTTON EEINFEED 35but he was not as other men ; did not a curse hangover him ? had not his Hfe been a cup of bitternessfrom the beginning ? Thus in timid pride he withdrewwithin his own fastnesses, where, baited by athousand dark spectres, he saw himself as if constrainedto renounce in unspeakable sadness thefahest hopes of existence. And now how sweet, how'ravishing the contradiction ! She has looked on*thee ! cried he ;'she, the fairest, noblest ; she doesnot despise thee ; her dark eyes smiled on thee ; herhand was in thine ; some figure of thee was in hersoul !'Storms of transport rushed through hisheart as he recalled this scene, and sweetest intimationsthat he also was a man, that for him also unutterablejoys had been provided.Day after day he saw and heard his fair Jane ; dayafter day drank rapture from her words and looks.She sang to him, she played to him; they talkedtogether, in gaiety and earnestness, unfolding theirseveral views of human life, and ever as it seemedglancing afar off at a holy though forbidden theme.Never had Wotton such an audience ;never was finethought or noble sentiment so rewarded as by theglance of those dark eyes, by the gleam which kindledover that soft and spirit-speaking face.In her, hourafter hour, a fairer and fairer soul unveiled itself ; asoul of quickest vision and gracefullest expression, sogay yet so enthusiastic, soblandishing yet so severea being all gentleness and fire ; meek, timid, loving