But the mysterious forces that move humanity (mysterious because the laws of their motion are unknown to us) continued to operate.
“Do you mean to say,” cried Gania, from the other corner, “do you mean to say that railways are accursed inventions, that they are a source of ruin to humanity, a poison poured upon the earth to corrupt the springs of life?”
The steep shores of the Mediterranean favoured the beginners in one of humanity‘s most daring enterprises, and the enchanting inland sea of classic adventure has led mankind gently from headland to headland, from bay to bay, from island to island, out into the promise of world-wide oceans beyond the Pillars of Hercules.
But pray tell me, my brethren, if the goal of humanity be still lacking, is there not also still lacking–humanity itself?–
It was the cry of the prophet who already hears emancipated humanity roaring and swarming; who beholds in the future, intelligence sapping faith, opinion dethroning belief, the world shaking off Rome.
In brief, I lost my fine faiths in pretty well everything except humanity, and the humanity I retained faith in was a very stark humanity indeed.
Violent death ever stalked in their midst; bomb and knife and bullet were looked upon as so many fangs of the roaring abysmal beast they must dominate if humanity were to persist.
There stood one, in physical proportion and stature commanding and exact–in intellect richly endowed–in natural elo- quence a prodigy–in soul manifestly “created but a little lower than the angels”–yet a slave, ay, a fugi- tive slave,–trembling for his safety, hardly daring to believe that on the American soil, a single white person could be found who would befriend him at all hazards, for the love of God and humanity! Ca- pable of high attainments as an intellectual and moral being–needing nothing but a comparatively small amount of cultivation to make him an orna- ment to society and a blessing to his race–by the law of the land, by the voice of the people, by the terms of the slave code, he was only a piece of property, a beast of burden, a chattel personal, nevertheless!
IN PARTICULAR This Work Is Dedicated By A Humble Native Of Flatland In the Hope that Even as he was Initiated into the Mysteries OF THREE DIMENSIONS Having been previously conversant With ONLY TWO So the Citizens of that Celestial Region May aspire yet higher and higher To the Secrets of FOUR FIVE or EVEN SIX Dimensions Thereby contributing To the Enlargement of THE IMAGINATION And the possible Development Of that most and excellent GIFT of MODESTY Among the Superior Races Of SOLID HUMANITY
above all, For the resurrection of deep-buried faith In Truth — in Virtue — in Humanity — Of all who, on Despair’s unhallowed bed Lying down to die, have suddenly arisen At thy soft-murmured words, “Let there be light!” At the soft-murmured words that were fulfilled In the seraphic glancing of thine eyes — Of all who owe thee most — whose gratitude Nearest resembles worship — oh, remember The truest — the most fervently devoted, And think that these weak lines are written by him — By him who, as he pens them, thrills to think His spirit is communing with an angel’s.
Her appearance is changed greatly, her character much more so; and the person who is compelled, of necessity, to be her companion, will only sustain his affection hereafter by the remembrance of what she once was, by common humanity, and a sense of duty!’
A genial centenarian, whose years have told happily on him, he appreciates not only those humanities of feeling and habit which were peculiar to the last century and passed away with it, but also that permanent humanity which has but undergone a change of surface in the new world of our own, wholly different though it may look.