Oh! Let Me Be Charitable To All Who Write, And To All Who Lecture,
And To All Who Preach, Since Even I, A Layman Not Forced To Write
At All, Can Hardly Avoid Chiming In With Some Tuneful Cant!
I have
had the heart to talk about the pernicious effects of the Greek
holidays, to which I owe some of my most beautiful visions!
I will
let the words stand, as a humbling proof that I am subject to that
immutable law which compels a man with a pen in his hand to be
uttering every now and then some sentiment not his own. It seems
as though the power of expressing regrets and desires by written
symbols were coupled with a condition that the writer should from
time to time express the regrets and desires of other people; as
though, like a French peasant under the old regime, one were bound
to perform a certain amount of work UPON THE PUBLIC HIGHWAYS. I
rebel as stoutly as I can against this horrible, corvee. I try not
to deceive you - I try to set down the thoughts which are fresh
within me, and not to pretend any wishes, or griefs, which I do not
really feel; but no sooner do I cease from watchfulness in this
regard, than my right hand is, as it were, seized by some false
angel, and even now, you see, I have been forced to put down such
words and sentences as I ought to have written if really and truly
I had wished to disturb the saints' days of the beautiful
Smyrniotes!
Which, Heaven forbid! for as you move through the narrow streets of
the city at these times of festival, the transom-shaped windows
suspended over your head on either side are filled with the
beautiful descendants of the old Ionian race; all (even yonder
empress that sits throned at the window of that humblest mud
cottage) are attired with seeming magnificence; their classic heads
are crowned with scarlet, and loaded with jewels or coins of gold,
the whole wealth of the wearers; {10} their features are touched
with a savage pencil, which hardens the outline of eyes and
eyebrows, and lends an unnatural fire to the stern, grave looks
with which they pierce your brain. Endure their fiery eyes as best
you may, and ride on slowly and reverently, for facing you from the
side of the transom, that looks long-wise through the street, you
see the one glorious shape transcendant in its beauty; you see the
massive braid of hair as it catches a touch of light on its jetty
surface, and the broad, calm, angry brow; the large black eyes,
deep set, and self-relying like the eyes of a conqueror, with their
rich shadows of thought lying darkly around them; you see the thin
fiery nostril, and the bold line of the chin and throat disclosing
all the fierceness, and all the pride, passion, and power that can
live along with the rare womanly beauty of those sweetly turned
lips.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 31 of 170
Words from 16191 to 16702
of 89094
