I had thumbed and scanned hundreds of ancient pages, some of them
manuscript; I had sat by ancient shelves upon hard chairs, I had sneezed
with the ancient dust, and I had not put my finger upon a trace of the
right Fanning. I should have given it up, left unexplored the territory
that remained staring at me through the backs of unread volumes, had it
not been for my Aunt Carola. To her I owed constancy and diligence,
and so I kept at it; and the hermit hours I spent at Court and Chancel
streets grew worse as I knew better what rarely good company was ready
to receive me. This Kings Port, this little city of oblivion, held, shut
in with its lavender and pressed-rose memories, a handful of people
who were like that great society of the world, the high society of
distinguished men and women who exist no more, but who touched history
with a light hand, and left their mark upon it in a host of memoirs and
letters that we read to-day with a starved and home-sick longing in
the midst of our sullen welter of democracy. With its silent houses and
gardens, its silent streets, its silent vistas of the blue water in the
sunshine, this beautiful, sad place was winning my heart and making
it ache. Nowhere else in America such charm, such character, such
true elegance as here--and nowhere else such an overwhelming sense of
finality!--the doom of a civilization founded upon a crime. And yet, how
much has the ballot done for that race? Or, at least, how much has the
ballot done for the majority of that race? And what way was it to meet
this problem with the sudden sweeping folly of the Fifteenth Amendment?
To fling the “door of hope” wide open before those within had learned
the first steps of how to walk sagely through it! Ah, if it comes to
blame, who goes scatheless in this heritage of error? I could have
shaped (we all could, you know) a better scheme for the universe, a plan
where we should not flourish at each other’s expense, where the lion
should be lying down with the lamb now, where good and evil should not
be husband and wife, indissolubly married by a law of creation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account