But so it is;
and these solutions are legitimate inasmuch as they satisfy the desire
for finality, for which our hearts yearn with a longing greater than the
longing for the loaves and fishes of this earth. Perhaps the only true
desire of mankind, coming thus to light in its hours of leisure, is to be
set at rest. One is never set at rest by Mr. Henry James's novels. His
books end as an episode in life ends. You remain with the sense of the
life still going on; and even the subtle presence of the dead is felt in
that silence that comes upon the artist-creation when the last word has
been read. It is eminently satisfying, but it is not final. Mr. Henry
James, great artist and faithful historian, never attempts the
impossible.
ALPHONSE DAUDET--1898
It is sweet to talk decorously of the dead who are part of our past, our
indisputable possession. One must admit regretfully that to-day is but a
scramble, that to-morrow may never come; it is only the precious
yesterday that cannot be taken away from us. A gift from the dead, great
and little, it makes life supportable, it almost makes one believe in a
benevolent scheme of creation.
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