The Last Man


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courtesy fascinated every one. His vivacity, intelligence, and active  
spirit of benevolence, completed the conquest. Even at this early age, he  
was deep read and imbued with the spirit of high philosophy. This spirit  
gave a tone of irresistible persuasion to his intercourse with others, so  
that he seemed like an inspired musician, who struck, with unerring skill,  
the "lyre of mind," and produced thence divine harmony. In person, he  
hardly appeared of this world; his slight frame was overinformed by the  
soul that dwelt within; he was all mind; "Man but a rush against" his  
breast, and it would have conquered his strength; but the might of his  
smile would have tamed an hungry lion, or caused a legion of armed men to  
lay their weapons at his feet.  
I spent the day with him. At first he did not recur to the past, or indeed  
to any personal occurrences. He wished probably to inspire me with  
confidence, and give me time to gather together my scattered thoughts. He  
talked of general subjects, and gave me ideas I had never before conceived.  
We sat in his library, and he spoke of the old Greek sages, and of the  
power which they had acquired over the minds of men, through the force of  
love and wisdom only. The room was decorated with the busts of many of  
them, and he described their characters to me. As he spoke, I felt subject  
to him; and all my boasted pride and strength were subdued by the honeyed  
accents of this blue-eyed boy. The trim and paled demesne of civilization,  
which I had before regarded from my wild jungle as inaccessible, had its  
wicket opened by him; I stepped within, and felt, as I entered, that I trod  
my native soil.  
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