herself in such labours for the welfare of others as might have distracted

her thoughts. But it was too late now. Besides that, with the nearly

extinct race of man, all our toils grew near a conclusion, she was too

weak; consumption, if so it might be called, or rather the over active life

within her, which, as with Adrian, spent the vital oil in the early morning

hours, deprived her limbs of strength. At night, when she could leave me

unperceived, she wandered through the house, or hung over the couches of

her children; and in the day time would sink into a perturbed sleep, while

her murmurs and starts betrayed the unquiet dreams that vexed her. As this

state of wretchedness became more confirmed, and, in spite of her

endeavours at concealment more apparent, I strove, though vainly, to awaken

in her courage and hope. I could not wonder at the vehemence of her care;

her very soul was tenderness; she trusted indeed that she should not

outlive me if I became the prey of the vast calamity, and this thought

sometimes relieved her. We had for many years trod the highway of life hand

in hand, and still thus linked, we might step within the shades of death;

but her children, her lovely, playful, animated children--beings sprung

from her own dear side--portions of her own being--depositories of our

loves--even if we died, it would be comfort to know that they ran man's

accustomed course. But it would not be so; young and blooming as they were,

they would die, and from the hopes of maturity, from the proud name of

attained manhood, they were cut off for ever. Often with maternal affection

she had figured their merits and talents exerted on life's wide stage. Alas

for these latter days! The world had grown old, and all its inmates partook

of the decrepitude. Why talk of infancy, manhood, and old age? We all stood

equal sharers of the last throes of time-worn nature. Arrived at the same

417

The Last Man