--And
the man's head now white; his strong arm growing weary with its long work!
I think always too of his poor Mother, now very old, living in that Palace
of his; a right brave woman; as indeed they lived all an honest God-fearing
Household there: if she heard a shot go off, she thought it was her son
killed. He had to come to her at least once a day, that she might see with
her own eyes that he was yet living. The poor old Mother!--What had this
man gained; what had he gained? He had a life of sore strife and toil, to
his last day. Fame, ambition, place in History? His dead body was hung in
chains, his "place in History,"--place in History forsooth!--has been a
place of ignominy, accusation, blackness and disgrace; and here, this day,
who knows if it is not rash in me to be among the first that ever ventured
to pronounce him not a knave and liar, but a genuinely honest man! Peace
to him. Did he not, in spite of all, accomplish much for us? _We_ walk
smoothly over his great rough heroic life; step over his body sunk in the
ditch there.
Pages:
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458