Once,  he  looks  out  from  his  solitary
Patmos,  the  Castle  of  Coburg,  in  the
middle  of  the  night :  The  great  vault  of
Immensity,  long  nights  of  clouds  sailing
through  it, — dumb,  gaunt,  huge : — who
supports  all  that  ?  "  None  ever  saw  the
pillars  of  it ;  yet  it  is  supported."  God
supports  it.  We  must  know  that  God
is  great,  that  God  is  good ;  and  trust,
where  we  cannot  see. — Returning  home
from  Leipzig  once,  he  is  struck  by  the
beauty  of  the  harvest-fields:  How  it
stands,  that  golden  yellow  corn,  on  its
fair  taper  stem,  its  golden  head  bent,
all  rich  and  waving  there, — the  meek
Earth,  at  God's  kind  bidding,  has  pro»
duced  it  once  again ;  the  bread  of  man '


by  Thomas  Cariyle.  217

In  the  garden  at  Wittenberg  one  even-
ing at  sunset,  a  little  bird  has  perched
for  the  night :  That  little  bird,  says  Lu-
ther, above  it  are  the  stars  and  deep
Heaven  of  worlds ;  yet  it  has  folded  its
little  wings;  gone  trustfully  to  rest
there  as  in  its  home :  the  Maker  of  it
has  given  it  too  a  home ! — Neither  are
mirthful  turns  wanting :  there  is  a  great
free  human  heart  in  this  man.  The
common  speech  of  him  has  a  rugged
nobleness,  idiomatic,  expressive,  genu-
ine ;  gleams  here  and  there  with  beau-
tiful poetic  tints.  One  feels  him  to  be
a  great  brother  man.  His  love  of  Music,
indeed,  is  not  this,  as  it  were,  the  sum-
mary of  all  these  affections  in  him?
Many  a  wild  unutterability  he  spoke
forth  from  him  in  the  tones  of  his  flute.
The  Devils  fled  from  his  flute,  he  says.
