| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Eryxias by Platonic Imitator: is wisdom despised of men and can find no buyers, although cypress wood and
marble of Pentelicus are eagerly bought by numerous purchasers? Surely the
prudent pilot or the skilful physician, or the artist of any kind who is
proficient in his art, is more worth than the things which are especially
reckoned among riches; and he who can advise well and prudently for himself
and others is able also to sell the product of his art, if he so desire.
Eryxias looked askance, as if he had received some unfair treatment, and
said, I believe, Socrates, that if you were forced to speak the truth, you
would declare that you were richer than Callias the son of Hipponicus. And
yet, although you claimed to be wiser about things of real importance, you
would not any the more be richer than he.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Some Reminiscences by Joseph Conrad: books; and I know that a novelist lives in his work. He stands
there, the only reality in an invented world, amongst imaginary
things, happenings, and people. Writing about them, he is only
writing about himself. But the disclosure is not complete. He
remains to a certain extent a figure behind the veil; a suspected
rather than a seen presence--a movement and a voice behind the
draperies of fiction. In these personal notes there is no such
veil. And I cannot help thinking of a passage in the "Imitation
of Christ" where the ascetic author, who knew life so profoundly,
says that "there are persons esteemed on their reputation who by
showing themselves destroy the opinion one had of them." This is
Some Reminiscences |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Poor and Proud by Oliver Optic: that the triumph of faith has already begun in my soul. The world
looks very dim to me."
"Nay, mother, don't say so."
"I only mean that as heaven seems nearer, my hold upon earth is
less strong. You must be very resolute, my child, for I feel as
though the sands of life were fast ebbing out; and that in a few
hours more I shall be `where the wicked cease from troubling, and
the weary are at rest.' If it were not for leaving you, Katy, I
could wish to bid farewell to earth, and go up to my eternal
home, even on this bright, beautiful Christmas day."
"O mother!" sobbed Katy, unable any longer to restrain the
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