The Devil's GardenMaxwell, W. B. (William Babington)
General
The Devil's Garden
Maxwell, W. B. (William Babington)
Fiction
This departed saint, whose memory had become as a fragrance of myrrh,
whose name sounded like the clinking of an incense-pot swung by devout
hands, whose monument stood firm as a temple built upon the rock, was
simply a dirty old beast for whom no excuse could be possible. What
worse crime can there be than that of befouling youth? Who is a worse
enemy to the commonweal than he who snatches and steals for his
transient gratification treasures that are accumulating to make some
honest man's life-long joy? Such wanton abuse of society's law and
nature's plan is the unpardonable sin; it is sin as monstrous as the
enormities that brought down fire upon the dwellers in the cities of
the plain.
To Dale the idea of an offense so gross that its perpetrator deserved
neither pity nor mercy was if anything stronger now than when it had
first entered and filled his mind.
Yet it seemed to him that now, after all the years that had gone by,
he could for the first time perfectly understand the dark and shameful
tangle of emotions through which the sinner moved onward to his sin.
It seemed that with luminous clearness he could look right into the
corrupt heart of the dead man. He could understand all, though he
could forgive nothing. He could measure the force of every thought and
sensation that had pushed the dead man on and on.
After middle-age the blood grows stagnant, habit dulls the edge of
appetite, a weariness of the mind and of the body makes one cease to
taste well-used delights; a strong new stimulus is required to revive
the emotional life that is sinking to decay. Such a stimulus must not
only be strong and new, it must be light, delicate, altogether
strange. The effect it produces is due to charm and spell as much as
to substance and form.
To people who are elderly, youth itself, merely because it is youth,
exercises a tremendous fascination. It sheds an atmosphere that is
pleasant to breathe. It seems like a fountain of life in which, if we
might bathe, we should take some rejuvenating virtue as well as a
soothing bliss. There is a common saying that it makes one feel young
just to consort with young people.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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