Historical fiction, American; New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories
“With all my heart,” replied the Old Year, who had already been
tormented half to death with squabbles of this kind. “I care not if the
name of Whig or Tory, with their interminable brawls about banks and
the sub-treasury, abolition, Texas, the Florida war, and a million of
other topics which you will learn soon enough for your own comfort,—I
care not, I say, if no whisper of these matters ever reaches my ears
again. Yet they have occupied so large a share of my attention that I
scarcely know what else to tell you. There has, indeed been a curious
sort of war on the Canada border, where blood has streamed in the names
of liberty and patriotism; but it must remain for some future, perhaps
far-distant, year to tell whether or no those holy names have been
rightfully invoked. Nothing so much depresses me in my view of mortal
affairs as to see high energies wasted and human life and happiness
thrown away for ends that appear oftentimes unwise, and still oftener
remain unaccomplished. But the wisest people and the best keep a
steadfast faith that the progress of mankind is onward and upward, and
that the toil and anguish of the path serve to wear away the
imperfections of the immortal pilgrim, and will be felt no more when
they have done their office.”
“Perhaps,” cried the hopeful New Year—“perhaps I shall see that happy
day.”
“I doubt whether it be so close at hand,” answered the Old Year,
gravely smiling. “You will soon grow weary of looking for that blessed
consummation, and will turn for amusement—as has frequently been my own
practice—to the affairs of some sober little city like this of Salem.
Here we sit on the steps of the new city-hall which has been completed
under my administration, and it would make you laugh to see how the
game of politics of which the Capitol at Washington is the great
chess-board is here played in miniature. Burning Ambition finds its
fuel here; here patriotism speaks boldly in the people’s behalf and
virtuous economy demands retrenchment in the emoluments of a
lamplighter; here the aldermen range their senatorial dignity around
the mayor’s chair of state and the common council feel that they have
liberty in charge. In short, human weakness and strength, passion and
policy, man’s tendencies, his aims and modes of pursuing them, his
individual character and his character in the mass, may be studied
almost as well here as on the theatre of nations, and with this great
advantage—that, be the lesson ever so disastrous, its Liliputian scope
still makes the beholder smile.”
“Have you done much for the improvement of the city?” asked the New
Year. “Judging from what little I have seen, it appears to be ancient
and time-worn.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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