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Updated: June 21, 2025
You know the diagram in The Secret Doctrine, with the teaching as to the seven rounds. As above, so below; when H. P. Blavatsky seems to be giving you a sketch of cosmic evolution, often she is at the same time, if you can read it, telling you about the laws that govern your own and the race's history.
We may have to suffer perhaps to fight and die; but our lives are nothing to the inheritance we may leave our children. "At the same time we should not grow impatient with our brethren who cannot walk with us in this way. I believe that we shall win from this contest the supreme seal of our race's freedom. It may not come in our time, but it will be set on the foreheads of our children.
Howbeit, he was now many centuries from speaking the Castilian, which, I had read, was still used in the families of the Jewish fugitives from Spain to the Levant. He spoke, instead, the abominable Venetian of Cannaregio, with that Jewish thickness which distinguishes the race's utterance, no matter what language its children are born to.
I presume none of them analyzed the nature of his infectious gayety, nor thought of the pathos that lay so close to it, in the fact of his recent slavery, and the distinction of being one of Wade Hampton's niggers, and the melancholy mirth of this light-hearted race's burlesque of itself.
Then the three racers lengthened their stride to the point where the swinging canter was ready to break into a gallop. "Wrangle, the race's on," said Venters, grimly. "We'll canter with them and gallop with them and run with them. We'll let them set the pace." Venters knew he bestrode the strongest, swiftest, most tireless horse ever ridden by any rider across the Utah uplands.
'Beats still; but, ah! not as it beat in the latest Fitzgerald, Nobly devote to his race's most noble tradition; Or in Emmet or Davis, or, last on their list, in O'Brien. 'Beats fitfully, feebly. O desolate mother! O Erin! When shall the pulse of thy life, which but flutters in Connaucht, Throb through thy meadows and boglands, and mountains and cities?
Children are sitting on the ground. Monsieur Joseph Bonéas, in black, with his supremely distinguished air, goes by holding his mother's arm. I bow deeply to them. He points at the unfolding spectacle as he passes and says, "It is our race's festival." The words made me look more seriously at the scene before my eyes all this tranquil and contemplative stir in the heart of festive nature.
Their cities will be far more distressing than cities of vermin, for vermin are healthy and calm and successful in life. Ah, those masses of people unintelligent, superstitious, uncivilized! What a dismal drain they will be on the race's strength!
They accepted discipline, and developed under it. They were brave in battle, and in victory they were guiltless of excess. It was a wonderful epoch in the race's history, the transition from servitude to freedom, and in that ordeal, first as slaves and then as soldiers, they showed themselves worthy of the deliverance that had come at last.
And, not to conceal from you what was in reality the most significant fact about Will Strong the key to about everything he thought and did he was mentally submitting this editorial, as he had submitted every other he had written, to the test of the probable opinion of a young woman he had not seen nor heard from for two years, but who nevertheless constituted to his mind the chief motive for existence if not the chief and sufficient explanation of the human race's having been created at all.
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