has condensed an age of reflection into this little moment. Do not talk of

reflection; from this moment I abjure it; this is my only happy moment

during a long interval of time. I must go, Lionel--the Gods will it; and

I must. Do not endeavour to deprive me of my companion, the out-cast's

friend.

"One word more concerning unkind, unjust Perdita. For a time, I thought

that, by watching a complying moment, fostering the still warm ashes, I

might relume in her the flame of love. It is more cold within her, than a

fire left by gypsies in winter-time, the spent embers crowned by a pyramid

of snow. Then, in endeavouring to do violence to my own disposition, I made

all worse than before. Still I think, that time, and even absence, may

restore her to me. Remember, that I love her still, that my dearest hope is

that she will again be mine. I know, though she does not, how false the

veil is which she has spread over the reality--do not endeavour to rend

this deceptive covering, but by degrees withdraw it. Present her with a

mirror, in which she may know herself; and, when she is an adept in that

necessary but difficult science, she will wonder at her present mistake,

and hasten to restore to me, what is by right mine, her forgiveness, her

kind thoughts, her love."

202

The Last Man