Last words of Thomas Carlyle - Warburg Institute

WOTTON REINEEED 55with him. Their road, or rather track, lay up a windingrocky glen and many times crossed the brook whichwas gurgling along its bottom tojoin the larger streamof the main valley.Ascending the pass, after half an hour's incommodiousriding, they found the brook, no longer fedby subsidiary springs, diminished to a rill, which alsoin a little while ending in a boggy delta disappearedfrom their side. A rough causeway, which seemedto be the work of man, conducted them across theswamp, still overshaded by craggy heights ; till as theyproceeded, the bog again drew to a point, and anotherthread of water began to indent with its tiny channelthe bottom of another glen, descending in the oppositedu-ection, but narrow, deep, winding and rocky as theformer.'Facilis descensus Averni,' said the guide, smiling:'the worst of our road is -past.' Ere long, in fact,the walls of their chasm began to widen and soften ;copse wood alternating with verdure mantled thesteep, a shepherd's hut rose cheerful and secure inthe hollow, and at the next turn our travellersemerged into a scene which no stranger approachingit by such a road could view without astonishment.*It is the Happy Valley of Prince Easselas !'!cried Wotton.' It is not Avernus, but Elysium ' cried Bernard.*It is the House of the Wold,' said the guide,*where refreshment and rest are waiting us.'