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Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, CHAPTER XXXVIII—CONCLUSION

CHAPTER XXXVIII—CONCLUSION

Reader, I married him.

A quiet wedding we had: he and I, the parson and clerk, were alone present. When we got back from church, I went into the kitchen of the manor-house, where Mary was cooking the dinner and John cleaning the knives, and I said—

“Mary, I have been married to Mr. Rochester this morning.” The housekeeper and her husband were both of that decent phlegmatic order of people, to whom one may at any time safely communicate a remarkable piece of news without incurring the danger of having one's ears pierced by some shrill ejaculation, and subsequently stunned by a torrent of wordy wonderment. Mary did look up, and she did stare at me: the ladle with which she was basting a pair of chickens roasting at the fire, did for some three minutes hang suspended in air; and for the same space of time John's knives also had rest from the polishing process: but Mary, bending again over the roast, said only— “Have you, Miss?

Well, for sure!”

A short time after she pursued—“I seed you go out with the master, but I didn't know you were gone to church to be wed;” and she basted away. John, when I turned to him, was grinning from ear to ear.

“I telled Mary how it would be,” he said: “I knew what Mr. Edward” (John was an old servant, and had known his master when he was the cadet of the house, therefore, he often gave him his Christian name)—“I knew what Mr. Edward would do; and I was certain he would not wait long neither: and he's done right, for aught I know. I wish you joy, Miss!” and he politely pulled his forelock.

“Thank you, John.

Mr. Rochester told me to give you and Mary this.” I put into his hand a five-pound note. Without waiting to hear more, I left the kitchen. In passing the door of that sanctum some time after, I caught the words—

“She'll happen do better for him nor ony o't' grand ladies.” And again, “If she ben't one o' th' handsomest, she's noan faâl and varry good-natured; and i' his een she's fair beautiful, onybody may see that.” I wrote to Moor House and to Cambridge immediately, to say what I had done: fully explaining also why I had thus acted.

Diana and Mary approved the step unreservedly. Diana announced that she would just give me time to get over the honeymoon, and then she would come and see me.

“She had better not wait till then, Jane,” said Mr. Rochester, when I read her letter to him; “if she does, she will be too late, for our honeymoon will shine our life long: its beams will only fade over your grave or mine.”

How St.

John received the news, I don't know: he never answered the letter in which I communicated it: yet six months after he wrote to me, without, however, mentioning Mr. Rochester's name or alluding to my marriage. His letter was then calm, and, though very serious, kind. He has maintained a regular, though not frequent, correspondence ever since: he hopes I am happy, and trusts I am not of those who live without God in the world, and only mind earthly things.

You have not quite forgotten little Adèle, have you, reader?

I had not; I soon asked and obtained leave of Mr. Rochester, to go and see her at the school where he had placed her. Her frantic joy at beholding me again moved me much. She looked pale and thin: she said she was not happy. I found the rules of the establishment were too strict, its course of study too severe for a child of her age: I took her home with me. I meant to become her governess once more, but I soon found this impracticable; my time and cares were now required by another—my husband needed them all. So I sought out a school conducted on a more indulgent system, and near enough to permit of my visiting her often, and bringing her home sometimes. I took care she should never want for anything that could contribute to her comfort: she soon settled in her new abode, became very happy there, and made fair progress in her studies. As she grew up, a sound English education corrected in a great measure her French defects; and when she left school, I found in her a pleasing and obliging companion: docile, good-tempered, and well-principled. By her grateful attention to me and mine, she has long since well repaid any little kindness I ever had it in my power to offer her.

My tale draws to its close: one word respecting my experience of married life, and one brief glance at the fortunes of those whose names have most frequently recurred in this narrative, and I have done.

I have now been married ten years.

I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely blest—blest beyond what language can express; because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine. No woman was ever nearer to her mate than I am: ever more absolutely bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. I know no weariness of my Edward's society: he knows none of mine, any more than we each do of the pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate bosoms; consequently, we are ever together. To be together is for us to be at once as free as in solitude, as gay as in company. We talk, I believe, all day long: to talk to each other is but a more animated and an audible thinking. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his confidence is devoted to me; we are precisely suited in character—perfect concord is the result.

Mr.

Rochester continued blind the first two years of our union; perhaps it was that circumstance that drew us so very near—that knit us so very close: for I was then his vision, as I am still his right hand. Literally, I was (what he often called me) the apple of his eye. He saw nature—he saw books through me; and never did I weary of gazing for his behalf, and of putting into words the effect of field, tree, town, river, cloud, sunbeam—of the landscape before us; of the weather round us—and impressing by sound on his ear what light could no longer stamp on his eye. Never did I weary of reading to him; never did I weary of conducting him where he wished to go: of doing for him what he wished to be done. And there was a pleasure in my services, most full, most exquisite, even though sad—because he claimed these services without painful shame or damping humiliation. He loved me so truly, that he knew no reluctance in profiting by my attendance: he felt I loved him so fondly, that to yield that attendance was to indulge my sweetest wishes.

One morning at the end of the two years, as I was writing a letter to his dictation, he came and bent over me, and said—“Jane, have you a glittering ornament round your neck?”

I had a gold watch-chain: I answered “Yes.”

“And have you a pale blue dress on?”

I had.

He informed me then, that for some time he had fancied the obscurity clouding one eye was becoming less dense; and that now he was sure of it.

He and I went up to London.

He had the advice of an eminent oculist; and he eventually recovered the sight of that one eye. He cannot now see very distinctly: he cannot read or write much; but he can find his way without being led by the hand: the sky is no longer a blank to him—the earth no longer a void. When his first-born was put into his arms, he could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes, as they once were—large, brilliant, and black. On that occasion, he again, with a full heart, acknowledged that God had tempered judgment with mercy.

My Edward and I, then, are happy: and the more so, because those we most love are happy likewise.

Diana and Mary Rivers are both married: alternately, once every year, they come to see us, and we go to see them. Diana's husband is a captain in the navy, a gallant officer and a good man. Mary's is a clergyman, a college friend of her brother's, and, from his attainments and principles, worthy of the connection. Both Captain Fitzjames and Mr. Wharton love their wives, and are loved by them.

As to St.

John Rivers, he left England: he went to India. He entered on the path he had marked for himself; he pursues it still. A more resolute, indefatigable pioneer never wrought amidst rocks and dangers. Firm, faithful, and devoted, full of energy, and zeal, and truth, he labours for his race; he clears their painful way to improvement; he hews down like a giant the prejudices of creed and caste that encumber it. He may be stern; he may be exacting; he may be ambitious yet; but his is the sternness of the warrior Greatheart, who guards his pilgrim convoy from the onslaught of Apollyon. His is the exaction of the apostle, who speaks but for Christ, when he says—“Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me.” His is the ambition of the high master-spirit, which aims to fill a place in the first rank of those who are redeemed from the earth—who stand without fault before the throne of God, who share the last mighty victories of the Lamb, who are called, and chosen, and faithful.

St.

John is unmarried: he never will marry now. Himself has hitherto sufficed to the toil, and the toil draws near its close: his glorious sun hastens to its setting. The last letter I received from him drew from my eyes human tears, and yet filled my heart with divine joy: he anticipated his sure reward, his incorruptible crown. I know that a stranger's hand will write to me next, to say that the good and faithful servant has been called at length into the joy of his Lord. And why weep for this? No fear of death will darken St. John's last hour: his mind will be unclouded, his heart will be undaunted, his hope will be sure, his faith steadfast. His own words are a pledge of this—

“My Master,” he says, “has forewarned me.

Daily He announces more distinctly,—‘Surely I come quickly!' and hourly I more eagerly respond,—‘Amen; even so come, Lord Jesus! '”

CHAPTER XXXVIII—CONCLUSION BÖLÜM XXXVIII-SONUÇ

Reader, I married him.

A quiet wedding we had: he and I, the parson and clerk, were alone present. When we got back from church, I went into the kitchen of the manor-house, where Mary was cooking the dinner and John cleaning the knives, and I said—

“Mary, I have been married to Mr. Rochester this morning.”  The housekeeper and her husband were both of that decent phlegmatic order of people, to whom one may at any time safely communicate a remarkable piece of news without incurring the danger of having one's ears pierced by some shrill ejaculation, and subsequently stunned by a torrent of wordy wonderment. «Mary, j'ai été mariée à M. Rochester ce matin. La gouvernante et son mari appartenaient tous deux à cet ordre flegmatique décent de personnes, à qui on peut à tout moment communiquer en toute sécurité une nouvelle remarquable sans encourir le danger d'avoir les oreilles percées par une éjaculation aiguë, et ensuite assommé par un torrent de émerveillement verbeux. Mary did look up, and she did stare at me: the ladle with which she was basting a pair of chickens roasting at the fire, did for some three minutes hang suspended in air; and for the same space of time John's knives also had rest from the polishing process: but Mary, bending again over the roast, said only— Mary leva les yeux et me regarda: la louche avec laquelle elle arrosait une paire de poulets rôtis au feu, resta suspendue pendant trois minutes environ; et pendant le même laps de temps, les couteaux de John se sont également reposés du processus de polissage: mais Mary, se penchant de nouveau sur le rôti, dit seulement: “Have you, Miss?

Well, for sure!”

A short time after she pursued—“I seed you go out with the master, but I didn't know you were gone to church to be wed;” and she basted away. Peu de temps après, elle a poursuivi: «Je suppose que vous sortez avec le maître, mais je ne savais pas que vous étiez allée à l'église pour vous marier; et elle s'est enfuie. John, when I turned to him, was grinning from ear to ear. John, quand je me suis tourné vers lui, souriait d'une oreille à l'autre.

“I telled Mary how it would be,” he said: “I knew what Mr. Edward” (John was an old servant, and had known his master when he was the cadet of the house, therefore, he often gave him his Christian name)—“I knew what Mr. Edward would do; and I was certain he would not wait long neither: and he's done right, for aught I know. «J'ai dit à Mary comment ce serait,» il a dit: «Je savais ce que M. Edward» (John était un vieux serviteur, et avait connu son maître quand il était le cadet de la maison, donc, il lui a souvent donné son chrétien nom) - «Je savais ce que M. Edward ferait; et j'étais certain qu'il n'attendrait pas longtemps non plus: et il a bien fait, pour ce que je sais. I wish you joy, Miss!” and he politely pulled his forelock. Je vous souhaite de la joie, mademoiselle! et il tira poliment sa mèche.

“Thank you, John.

Mr. Rochester told me to give you and Mary this.”  I put into his hand a five-pound note. M. Rochester m'a dit de vous donner ceci ainsi qu'à Mary. J'ai mis dans sa main un billet de cinq livres. Without waiting to hear more, I left the kitchen. In passing the door of that sanctum some time after, I caught the words— En passant la porte de ce sanctuaire quelque temps après, j'ai saisi les mots:

“She'll happen do better for him nor ony o't' grand ladies.”  And again, “If she ben't one o' th' handsomest, she's noan faâl and varry good-natured; and i' his een she's fair beautiful, onybody may see that.” «Elle fera mieux pour lui ni pour les grandes dames.» Et encore: «Si elle n'est pas l'une des plus belles, elle est noan faâl et varry de bonne humeur; et je suis sûr qu'elle est belle, tout le monde peut le voir. I wrote to Moor House and to Cambridge immediately, to say what I had done: fully explaining also why I had thus acted.

Diana and Mary approved the step unreservedly. Diana et Mary ont approuvé la démarche sans réserve. Diana announced that she would just give me time to get over the honeymoon, and then she would come and see me.

“She had better not wait till then, Jane,” said Mr. Rochester, when I read her letter to him; “if she does, she will be too late, for our honeymoon will shine our life long: its beams will only fade over your grave or mine.” "Elle ferait mieux de ne pas attendre jusque-là, Jane", a dit M. Rochester, quand je lui ai lu sa lettre ; "si elle le fait, il sera trop tard, car notre lune de miel brillera toute notre vie : ses rayons ne s'éteindront que sur votre tombe ou la mienne".

How St.

John received the news, I don't know: he never answered the letter in which I communicated it: yet six months after he wrote to me, without, however, mentioning Mr. Rochester's name or alluding to my marriage. His letter was then calm, and, though very serious, kind. Sa lettre était alors calme et, bien que très sérieuse, aimable. He has maintained a regular, though not frequent, correspondence ever since: he hopes I am happy, and trusts I am not of those who live without God in the world, and only mind earthly things. Depuis, il entretient une correspondance régulière, mais pas fréquente : il espère que je suis heureux et que je ne suis pas de ceux qui vivent sans Dieu dans le monde et qui ne s'intéressent qu'aux choses terrestres.

You have not quite forgotten little Adèle, have you, reader?

I had not; I soon asked and obtained leave of Mr. Rochester, to go and see her at the school where he had placed her. Her frantic joy at beholding me again moved me much. Sa joie effrénée de me revoir m'émeut beaucoup. She looked pale and thin: she said she was not happy. I found the rules of the establishment were too strict, its course of study too severe for a child of her age: I took her home with me. I found the rules of the establishment were too strict, its course of study too severe for a child of her age: I took her home with me. I meant to become her governess once more, but I soon found this impracticable; my time and cares were now required by another—my husband needed them all. So I sought out a school conducted on a more indulgent system, and near enough to permit of my visiting her often, and bringing her home sometimes. So I sought out a school conducted on a more indulgent system, and near enough to permit of my visiting her often, and bringing her home sometimes. J'ai donc cherché une école dirigée selon un système plus indulgent et assez proche pour que je lui rende visite souvent et que je la ramène parfois à la maison. I took care she should never want for anything that could contribute to her comfort: she soon settled in her new abode, became very happy there, and made fair progress in her studies. I took care she should never want for anything that could contribute to her comfort: she soon settled in her new abode, became very happy there, and made fair progress in her studies. J'ai veillé à ce qu'elle ne manque jamais de quoi que ce soit qui puisse contribuer à son réconfort: elle s'est vite installée dans sa nouvelle demeure, y est devenue très heureuse et a fait de bons progrès dans ses études. As she grew up, a sound English education corrected in a great measure her French defects; and when she left school, I found in her a pleasing and obliging companion: docile, good-tempered, and well-principled. As she grew up, a sound English education corrected in a great measure her French defects; and when she left school, I found in her a pleasing and obliging companion: docile, good-tempered, and well-principled. En grandissant, une solide éducation anglaise corrigeait en grande partie ses défauts de français; et quand elle quitta l'école, je trouvai en elle une compagne agréable et obligeante: docile, de bonne humeur et de principe. By her grateful attention to me and mine, she has long since well repaid any little kindness I ever had it in my power to offer her. By her grateful attention to me and mine, she has long since well repaid any little kindness I ever had it in my power to offer her. Par son attention reconnaissante envers moi et la mienne, elle a depuis longtemps bien remboursé le peu de gentillesse que j'avais jamais eu le pouvoir de lui offrir.

My tale draws to its close: one word respecting my experience of married life, and one brief glance at the fortunes of those whose names have most frequently recurred in this narrative, and I have done. Mon récit touche à sa fin: un mot concernant mon expérience de la vie conjugale, et un bref coup d'œil sur la fortune de ceux dont les noms sont le plus souvent réapparus dans ce récit, et je l'ai fait.

I have now been married ten years. Je suis marié depuis dix ans.

I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. Je sais ce que c'est que de vivre entièrement pour et avec ce que j'aime le mieux sur terre. I hold myself supremely blest—blest beyond what language can express; because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine. Je me tiens suprêmement béni - heureux au-delà de ce que le langage peut exprimer; parce que je suis la vie de mon mari autant qu'il est la mienne. No woman was ever nearer to her mate than I am: ever more absolutely bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. Aucune femme n'a jamais été plus proche de son compagnon que moi: toujours plus absolument os de ses os et chair de sa chair. I know no weariness of my Edward's society: he knows none of mine, any more than we each do of the pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate bosoms; consequently, we are ever together. Je ne connais aucune lassitude de la société de mon Edward: il ne connaît aucune des miennes, pas plus que nous ne le faisons chacun de la pulsation du cœur qui bat dans nos seins séparés; par conséquent, nous sommes toujours ensemble. To be together is for us to be at once as free as in solitude, as gay as in company. Etre ensemble, c'est pour nous être à la fois aussi libres que dans la solitude, aussi gays qu'en compagnie. We talk, I believe, all day long: to talk to each other is but a more animated and an audible thinking. Nous parlons, je crois, toute la journée: se parler n'est qu'une pensée plus animée et audible. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his confidence is devoted to me; we are precisely suited in character—perfect concord is the result. Toute ma confiance lui est accordée, toute sa confiance m'est consacrée; nous avons un caractère parfaitement adapté - la concorde parfaite en est le résultat.

Mr.

Rochester continued blind the first two years of our union; perhaps it was that circumstance that drew us so very near—that knit us so very close: for I was then his vision, as I am still his right hand. Rochester est resté aveugle les deux premières années de notre union; peut-être est-ce cette circonstance qui nous a rapprochés si fort, qui nous a si étroitement liés: car j'étais alors sa vision, comme je suis encore sa main droite. Literally, I was (what he often called me) the apple of his eye. He saw nature—he saw books through me; and never did I weary of gazing for his behalf, and of putting into words the effect of field, tree, town, river, cloud, sunbeam—of the landscape before us; of the weather round us—and impressing by sound on his ear what light could no longer stamp on his eye. Il a vu la nature - il a vu des livres à travers moi; et je ne me suis jamais lassé de regarder pour lui, et de mettre en mots l'effet de champ, d'arbre, de ville, de rivière, de nuage, de rayon de soleil - du paysage devant nous; du temps qui nous entoure - et impressionnant par le son sur son oreille ce que la lumière ne pouvait plus marquer sur son œil. Never did I weary of reading to him; never did I weary of conducting him where he wished to go: of doing for him what he wished to be done. And there was a pleasure in my services, most full, most exquisite, even though sad—because he claimed these services without painful shame or damping humiliation. Et il y avait un plaisir dans mes services, le plus complet, le plus exquis, même si triste - parce qu'il réclamait ces services sans honte douloureuse ni humiliation atténuée. He loved me so truly, that he knew no reluctance in profiting by my attendance: he felt I loved him so fondly, that to yield that attendance was to indulge my sweetest wishes. Il m'aimait tellement, qu'il ne savait pas hésiter à profiter de ma présence: il sentait que je l'aimais si tendrement, que céder cette assistance, c'était satisfaire mes plus doux vœux.

One morning at the end of the two years, as I was writing a letter to his dictation, he came and bent over me, and said—“Jane, have you a glittering ornament round your neck?”

I had a gold watch-chain: I answered “Yes.” J'avais une chaîne de montre en or : J'ai répondu "oui".

“And have you a pale blue dress on?”

I had.

He informed me then, that for some time he had fancied the obscurity clouding one eye was becoming less dense; and that now he was sure of it. Il m'informa alors que depuis quelque temps il avait imaginé que l'obscurité obscurcissant un œil devenait moins dense; et que maintenant il en était sûr.

He and I went up to London.

He had the advice of an eminent oculist; and he eventually recovered the sight of that one eye. He had the advice of an eminent oculist; and he eventually recovered the sight of that one eye. Il avait les conseils d'un éminent oculiste; et il a finalement récupéré la vue de cet œil. He cannot now see very distinctly: he cannot read or write much; but he can find his way without being led by the hand: the sky is no longer a blank to him—the earth no longer a void. He cannot now see very distinctly: he cannot read or write much; but he can find his way without being led by the hand: the sky is no longer a blank to him—the earth no longer a void. Il ne peut plus voir maintenant très distinctement: il ne sait ni lire ni écrire beaucoup; mais il peut trouver son chemin sans être conduit par la main: le ciel n'est plus un vide pour lui, la terre n'est plus un vide. When his first-born was put into his arms, he could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes, as they once were—large, brilliant, and black. When his first-born was put into his arms, he could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes, as they once were—large, brilliant, and black. Lorsque son premier-né lui fut mis dans les bras, il put constater que le garçon avait hérité de ses propres yeux, tels qu'ils étaient autrefois : grands, brillants et noirs. On that occasion, he again, with a full heart, acknowledged that God had tempered judgment with mercy. A cette occasion, il a de nouveau, de plein cœur, reconnu que Dieu avait tempéré le jugement par la miséricorde.

My Edward and I, then, are happy: and the more so, because those we most love are happy likewise. Mon Édouard et moi sommes donc heureux, d'autant plus que ceux que nous aimons le plus le sont aussi.

Diana and Mary Rivers are both married: alternately, once every year, they come to see us, and we go to see them. Diana et Mary Rivers sont toutes deux mariées : alternativement, une fois par an, elles viennent nous voir et nous allons les voir. Diana's husband is a captain in the navy, a gallant officer and a good man. Le mari de Diana est capitaine dans la marine, un officier courageux et un homme bon. Mary's is a clergyman, a college friend of her brother's, and, from his attainments and principles, worthy of the connection. Mary est un ecclésiastique, un ami de collège de son frère et, de par ses réalisations et ses principes, digne de ce lien. Both Captain Fitzjames and Mr. Wharton love their wives, and are loved by them.

As to St.

John Rivers, he left England: he went to India. He entered on the path he had marked for himself; he pursues it still. Il s'engagea sur le chemin qu'il s'était tracé; il la poursuit encore. A more resolute, indefatigable pioneer never wrought amidst rocks and dangers. Un pionnier plus résolu et infatigable n'a jamais travaillé parmi les rochers et les dangers. Firm, faithful, and devoted, full of energy, and zeal, and truth, he labours for his race; he clears their painful way to improvement; he hews down like a giant the prejudices of creed and caste that encumber it. Ferme, fidèle et dévoué, plein d'énergie, de zèle et de vérité, il travaille pour sa race; il dégage leur douloureux chemin vers l'amélioration; il abat comme un géant les préjugés de croyance et de caste qui l'encombrent. He may be stern; he may be exacting; he may be ambitious yet; but his is the sternness of the warrior Greatheart, who guards his pilgrim convoy from the onslaught of Apollyon. Il peut être sévère; il peut être exigeant; il peut être encore ambitieux; mais c'est la sévérité du guerrier Grand Cœur, qui protège son convoi de pèlerins de l'assaut d'Apollyon. His is the exaction of the apostle, who speaks but for Christ, when he says—“Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me.”  His is the ambition of the high master-spirit, which aims to fill a place in the first rank of those who are redeemed from the earth—who stand without fault before the throne of God, who share the last mighty victories of the Lamb, who are called, and chosen, and faithful. C'est l'exigence de l'apôtre, qui parle au nom du Christ, lorsqu'il dit : "Celui qui veut venir après moi, qu'il renonce à lui-même, qu'il se charge de sa croix et qu'il me suive". C'est l'ambition de l'esprit de maître élevé, qui vise à occuper une place au premier rang de ceux qui ont été rachetés de la terre, qui se tiennent sans faute devant le trône de Dieu, qui partagent les dernières victoires puissantes de l'Agneau, qui sont appelés, élus et fidèles.

St.

John is unmarried: he never will marry now. Himself has hitherto sufficed to the toil, and the toil draws near its close: his glorious sun hastens to its setting. Lui-même a jusqu'ici suffi au labeur, et le labeur touche à sa fin: son soleil glorieux se hâte de se coucher. The last letter I received from him drew from my eyes human tears, and yet filled my heart with divine joy: he anticipated his sure reward, his incorruptible crown. The last letter I received from him drew from my eyes human tears, and yet filled my heart with divine joy: he anticipated his sure reward, his incorruptible crown. La dernière lettre que j'ai reçue de lui a tiré de mes yeux des larmes humaines, et pourtant a rempli mon cœur d'une joie divine: il a anticipé sa récompense sûre, sa couronne incorruptible. I know that a stranger's hand will write to me next, to say that the good and faithful servant has been called at length into the joy of his Lord. I know that a stranger's hand will write to me next, to say that the good and faithful servant has been called at length into the joy of his Lord. Je sais que la main d'un étranger m'écrira ensuite, pour dire que le bon et fidèle serviteur a été longuement appelé à la joie de son Seigneur. And why weep for this? Et pourquoi pleurer pour cela ? No fear of death will darken St. John's last hour: his mind will be unclouded, his heart will be undaunted, his hope will be sure, his faith steadfast. La dernière heure de Jean: son esprit sera dégagé, son cœur sera intrépide, son espoir sera sûr, sa foi inébranlable. His own words are a pledge of this— Ses propres mots en sont un gage -

“My Master,” he says, “has forewarned me. «Mon Maître», dit-il, «m'a prévenu.

Daily He announces more distinctly,—‘Surely I come quickly!' Chaque jour, il annonce plus distinctement: - Je viens sûrement vite! and hourly I more eagerly respond,—‘Amen; even so come, Lord Jesus! et toutes les heures je réponds plus avec empressement: «Amen; même ainsi viens, Seigneur Jésus! '”