23 March 1691, Wednesday
I am in a dark mood tonight. Where is the progress I have seen in my lifetime? Where is the sense of looking forward? Salem has become a place of pointing voices and barking fingers. We versus you. We accuse you and you accuse we, and in the background, snarling loudest of all, is the Reverend Mr. Parris. His thunderous voice booms, his finger largest of all, pointing to Hell. I can only shake my head in wonder. What has happened to our capacity for Reason, I wonder? Perhaps we never had Reason to begin with.
I did not begin the day in such a dark mood. I was all right when I awoke this morn and saw the sunlight. Finally, beginning wisps of Spring color the landscape. The blooming buds burst in reds, golds, and blues amongst the bright green grass, still wet fro
