the last supper painting

the last supper painting
traverse the garden. He took the way over the misty moors in the
direction of Whitcross- there he would meet the coach.
'In a few more hours I shall succeed you in that track, cousin,'
thought I: 'I too have a coach to meet at Whitcross. I too have some
to see and ask after in England, before I depart for ever.'
It wanted yet two hours of breakfast-time. I filled the interval in
walking softly about my room, and pondering the visitation which had
given my plans their present bent. I recalled that inward sensation
I had experienced: for I could recall it, with all its unspeakable
strangeness. I recalled the voice I had heard; again I questioned
the last supper painting
the last supper painting
whence it came, as vainly as before: it seemed in me- not in the
external world. I asked was it a mere nervous impression- a
delusion? I could not conceive or believe: it was more like an
inspiration. The wondrous shock of feeling had come like the
earthquake which shook the foundations of Paul and Silas's prison;
it had opened the doors of the soul's cell and loosed its bands- it
had wakened it out of its sleep, whence it sprang trembling,
listening, aghast; then vibrated thrice a cry on my startled ear,
and in my quaking heart and through my spirit, which neither feared
the last supper painting