The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. II., No. 12, November, 1836Various
General
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. II., No. 12, November, 1836
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
As I made this reflection, he who suggested it entered. After a brief
interval, during which he gazed upon me as if to search my very soul,
he said, “Mr. S. you are curious to know who and what I am. Nay, never
blush, man, it is natural enough. You cannot think it otherwise than
strange, that one who is connected by no ties of consanguinity with
his fellow men, who has no apparent motive for hoarding his gains, for
whom ambition has no charms, and who is looked upon by no earthly
being with the eye of affection, should condemn himself to the want of
every comfort, for the acquisition of that, which in a brief space of
time, must be snatched from him by the cold hand of death. You, no
doubt, think it strange too, that one, whose language gives evidence
of education, and I may say of capacity, which would place him at
least on an equality with his {751} fellow men, should confine himself
to the petty and despised occupation, in which for years I have been
engaged. You probably deem me a miser; in one sense of the word I am
one, for God’s sun shines not on a greater wretch; but there breathes
no human being, for whom wealth has fewer charms or smaller power. The
coarsest raiment, the simplest food, and a bare shelter from the
storm, are the limits of my bodily wants, and as for my mind riches
cannot purchase it peace. Still, my aim has been to gather them; for
what purpose you shall be informed. I have requested this interview,
because I had reason to think you an honest man, and none but such
would answer my purpose. I desire your agency and assistance in the
performance of an act of justice, the execution of which has been the
main object of my life. For your mere trouble you will be amply
compensated; for the satisfaction you will afford me it is out of my
power to offer an equivalent. Having thus stated my wishes, I shall
proceed, irksome and degrading to me as is the task, to recount to you
the narrative of my early life. I claim from you simply the promise
that you will not, during my life time, reveal what I am now about to
utter to you.” I gave my promise. “Listen then,” said the old man.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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