The review. [volume] (High Point, N.C.) 1908-19??, 1921-07-28
Not in Vain

In the midst of the reeking horror
near Morganton, in the midst of the
mist of blood and passion and mad
ness that obscures the Kincald MUIR
der, there is one CLEAN of magnlfl-
cence. 1t is the cry of the dying wo-
man when her husband was charged
with numbering her-"No, he hasn't. "
It was Desdemona's lie, the lie that
the Recording Angel blotted out with
his tears.
Had it not been for this, the afr
wo-Ad have been only bestial and
revolving rime, from which mel
from a repu1sive n1onstrosity. But
lighted by the splendor of love that
was stronger than death it becomes
great tragedy and mankind, although
fortified and revolted indeed, is yet
aWed and fascinated.
The wretched man is more ire
vocably damned by that cry than he
could be by the sentence of the high
est court in the land. Indeed, if he
has in him any of the elements of
manhood, it is easy to believe that
the greatest boon he could ask of hu-
man justice would be a short shift; for
al the rest Of his days that cry must
ing in his ears. The thunder of all
VIC VI CIIS S1I III CdIlIIOC O1OWI
it. The silence of interstellar space
cannot smother it. Neither space nor
time can silence it, nor tears nor pen
:tence obiiterate the memory of it. His
eternal fate rests in the hands of no
human judge; but by his own act he
must have made of this earth a hell
whose tOrments are as appalling as
INV that imagination can conceive.
But while her effort to shield him !
has only heaped daE1nation upon the |
lead of the man she loved, this wo- !
mans great heart surely cannot have
loved in vain. It would be distressing |
t. think that there is in all North |
Carolina q man so dull of soul as not !
% pay tribute to her, and through her /
to all wornankind. I'm the drab rou-
set, and. temptation to deny, the ex<
istence of the magnificent possibilities
:, a won1an-S soul. There is nothing |
Indicate that Mrs. kincaid had ever
before given those who knew her rea-
son to suspect that she was more than
:. dutiful and affectionate wife; yet
when her hour came she rose to the
sublime-this Burke county wo-~' -
-yved herself a match for the most
beloved heroine that human genus i
las ever been able to imagine.
All, these WOmen-What man dare
even speculate upon what they ale
capable OF? For half century the
have been busily engaged !
n proving them of the earth most
:&rthy. Freudians and Nietzscheans
ave analysed and dissected their mo-
ives; Shavians have laughed at their
entimeatali ties; and horde of drea-
Y "reaiists" have gained a certain
eputation by disappearing their pow
r to love. Then an obscure woman
II the hills of Burke, a woman who
never heard of psycho-analy-
is or the Fabian society, shows in !
he only indisputable way that love is
Kill mightier than the agonies of '
aath-and all the theories are eX-
,ioded, ali the obscene idols of mod
2nisrn are flung PROSTATE in the dust, ;
nd the true god reigns triumphant
re again.
This, scholars and literati and I'M |
chooled men of North Carolina, is
ealism indeed. Sour and dingy-spir-
led novelists may argue plausibIy,
beverly, even brilliantly the hypothe-
is that love is all illusion, that mar
ge is a failure, that romance is
out the vaporing of childish brains;
nd out of such fancies they create J
ne literature that we miscall "realis-