no denouements.  He exercised a decisive influence upon no human being.  His will never encroached upon the desires of another, he never constrained any other spirit, or crashed it under the domination of his own, He never tyrannized over another heart, he never placed a conquering hand upon the destiny of another being.  He sought nothing; he would have scorned to have made any demands.  Like Tasso, he might say: 

Brama assai, poco spera, e nulla chiede.  In compensation, he escaped from all ties; from the affections which might have influenced him, or led him into more tumultuous spheres.  Ready to yield all, he never gave himself.  Perhaps he knew what exclusive devotion, what love without limit he was worthy of inspiring, of understanding, of sharing!  Like other ardent and ambitions natures, he may have thought if love and friendship are not all—­ they are nothing!  Perhaps it would have been more painful for him to have accepted a part, any thing less than all, than to have relinquished all, and thus to have remained at least faithful to his impossible Ideal!  If these things have been so or not, none ever knew, for he rarely spoke of love or friendship.  He was not exacting, like those whose high claims and just demands exceed all that we possess to offer them.  The most intimate of his acquaintances never penetrated to that secluded fortress in which the soul, absent from his common life, dwelt; a fortress which he so well succeeded in concealing, that its very existence was scarcely suspected.

In his relations and intercourse with others, he always seemed occupied in what interested them; he was cautions not to lead them from the circle of their own personality, lest they should intrude into his.  If he gave up but little of his time to others, at least of that which he did relinquish, he reserved none for himself.  No one ever asked him to give an account of his dreams, his wishes, or his hopes.  No one seemed to wish to know what he sighed for, what he might have conquered, if his white and tapering fingers could have linked the brazen chords of life to the golden ones of his enchanted lyre!  No one had leisure to think of this in his presence.  His conversation was rarely upon subjects of any deep interest.  He glided lightly over all, and as he gave but little of his time, it was easily filled with the details of the day.  He was careful never to allow himself to wander into digressions of which he himself might become the subject.  His individuality rarely excited the investigations of curiosity, or awakened vivid scrutiny.  He pleased too much to excite much reflection.  The ensemble of his person was harmonious, and called for no especial commentary.  His blue eye was more spiritual than dreamy, his bland smile never writhed into bitterness.  The transparent delicacy of his complexion pleased the eye, his fair hair was soft and silky, his nose slightly aquiline, his bearing so distinguished, and his manners stamped