| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells: "His is the Hand that wounds.
"His is the Hand that heals."
And so on for another long series, mostly quite incomprehensible
gibberish to me about Him, whoever he might be. I could have fancied
it was a dream, but never before have I heard chanting in a dream.
"His is the lightning flash," we sang. "His is the deep, salt sea."
A horrible fancy came into my head that Moreau, after animalising
these men, had infected their dwarfed brains with a kind of
deification of himself. However, I was too keenly aware of white
teeth and strong claws about me to stop my chanting on that account.
"His are the stars in the sky."
The Island of Doctor Moreau |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Hellenica by Xenophon: had disembarked from all the ships with one exception. The exception
was that of Melanippus the Rhodian, who had advised the other captains
not to stop at this point, and had then manned his own vessel and
sailed off. Thus he encountered the ships of Iphicrates, but contrived
to slip through his fingers, while the whole of the Syracusan vessels
were captured, crews and all.
Having cut the beaks off the prows, Iphicrates bore down into the
harbour of Corcyra with the captured triremes in tow. With the captive
crews themselves he came to an agreement that each should pay a fixed
sum as ransom, with one exception, that of Crinippus, their commander.
Him he kept under guard, with the intention apparently of exacting a
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Agnes Grey by Anne Bronte: people come to see them than we are apt to suppose.'
Here was a wonderful instance of consideration from the thoughtless
Miss Murray. Mr. Weston named an hour in the morning at which he
would endeavour, to be there. By this time the carriage was ready,
and the footman was waiting, with an open umbrella, to escort Miss
Murray through the churchyard. I was about to follow; but Mr.
Weston had an umbrella too, and offered me the benefit of its
shelter, for it was raining heavily.
'No, thank you, I don't mind the rain,' I said. I always lacked
common sense when taken by surprise.
'But you don't LIKE it, I suppose? - an umbrella will do you no
Agnes Grey |
