Concerning
the otherside way of looking at things and the
self-contradictory bearing of the maiden Florence.
VENERATED SIRE,--A discovery of overwhelming malignity oppresses me.
In spite of much baffling ambiguity and the frequent evasion of
conscious guilt, there can be no longer any reasonable doubt that
these barbarians DO NOT WORSHIP THEIR ANCESTORS!
Hitherto the matter had rested in my mind as an uneasy breath of
suspicion, agitated from time to time by countless indications that
such a possibility might, indeed, exist in a condensed form, but too
inauspiciously profane to be contemplated in the altogether. Thus,
when in the company of the young this person has walked about the
streets of the city, he may at length have said, "Truly, out of your
amiable condescension, you have shown me a variety of entrancing
scenes. Let us now in turn visit the tombs of your ancestors, to the
end that I may transmit fitting gifts to their spirits and discharge a
few propitious fireworks as a greeting." Yet in no case has this
well-intentioned offer been agilely received, one asserting that he
did not know the resting-place of the tombs in question, a second that
he had no ancestors, a third that Kensal Green was not an entrancing
spot for a wet afternoon, a fourth that he would see them removed to a
greater distance first, another that he drew the line at mafficking in
a cemetery, and the like. These things, it may occur to your
omniscience, might in themselves have been conclusive, yet the next
reference to the matter would perhaps be tending to a more alluring
hope.
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