once, I seemed to awake; I cast off the clinging sloth of the past months;

earth assumed a new appearance, and my view of the future was suddenly made

clear. I exclaimed, "I have now found out the secret!"

What secret?"

In answer to this question, I described our gloomy winter-life, our sordid

cares, our menial labours:--"This northern country," I said, "is no place

for our diminished race. When mankind were few, it was not here that they

battled with the powerful agents of nature, and were enabled to cover the

globe with offspring. We must seek some natural Paradise, some garden of

the earth, where our simple wants may be easily supplied, and the enjoyment

of a delicious climate compensate for the social pleasures we have lost. If

we survive this coming summer, I will not spend the ensuing winter in

England; neither I nor any of us."

I spoke without much heed, and the very conclusion of what I said brought

with it other thoughts. Should we, any of us, survive the coming summer? I

saw the brow of Idris clouded; I again felt, that we were enchained to the

car of fate, over whose coursers we had no control. We could no longer say,

This we will do, and this we will leave undone. A mightier power than the

human was at hand to destroy our plans or to achieve the work we avoided.

It were madness to calculate upon another winter. This was our last. The

coming summer was the extreme end of our vista; and, when we arrived there,

instead of a continuation of the long road, a gulph yawned, into which we

must of force be precipitated. The last blessing of humanity was wrested

410

The Last Man