Last words of Thomas Carlyle - Warburg Institute

WOTTON REINFEED 89and thicket, of bush and fruit-tree, and many-colouredflower-bed, stretching far and wide, cut with longwinding walks, in mellow light, and silent, save whenfrom his green spray the thrush or blackbird waspouring his gushes of harmony in many a linkedbout, around them towering clusters of roses, and thehues and odours of athousand flowers, and beyondall, in the remote distance, the slopes and peaks ofthe mountains sparkluig inthe glow of evening, ourfriends were soon sociably seated in their little gardenhouse,thefront of which had been thrown open toadmit so many kindly influences.In such hours, when all is invitation to peace andgladness, the soul expands with full freedom, manfeels himself brought nearer to man, and the narrowesthypochondriac is charmed from his selfish seclusionand sur]3rised by the pleasure of unwonted sympathywith nature and his brethren.Gaily in light gracefulabandonment and touches of careless felicity, thefriendly talk played round the table ; each said whathe liked without fear that others might dislike it, forthe burden was rolled from every heart ;the barriersof ceremony, which are indeed the laws of politeliving, melted into vapour, and the poor claims of meand thee, no longer parted and enclosed by rigidlines, flowed softly into each other ; and life lay likesome fair unappropriated champaign, variegatedindeed -with many tints, but all these mingling bygentle undulations, by imperceptible shadings, andN