| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Euthydemus by Plato: the results of politics, as they are called. This is the old, old song
over again; and we are just as far as ever, if not farther, from the
knowledge of the art or science of happiness.
CRITO: Indeed, Socrates, you do appear to have got into a great
perplexity.
SOCRATES: Thereupon, Crito, seeing that I was on the point of shipwreck, I
lifted up my voice, and earnestly entreated and called upon the strangers
to save me and the youth from the whirlpool of the argument; they were our
Castor and Pollux, I said, and they should be serious, and show us in sober
earnest what that knowledge was which would enable us to pass the rest of
our lives in happiness.
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Marie by H. Rider Haggard: would plunge headlong to the bottom of the deep and put an end to me and
my miseries.
These, however, so far as the bodily side of them was concerned, were, I
think, surpassed by those of my henchman Hans, who, as a matter of fact,
had never before set foot in any kind of boat. Perhaps this was
fortunate, since had he known the horrors of the ocean, much as he loved
me, he would, I am sure, by one means or another, have left me to voyage
in the Seven Stars alone. There he lay upon the floor of my little
cabin, rolling to and fro with the violent motion of the brig, overcome
with terror. He was convinced that we were going to be drowned, and in
the intervals of furious sea-sickness uttered piteous lamentations in
Marie |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Bickerstaff-Partridge Papers by Jonathan Swift: at quarter-sessions, out comes a full and true relation of the
death and interment of John Partridge; Truth is bore down,
attestations neglected, the testimony of sober persons despised,
and a man is looked upon by his neighbours as if he had been
seven years dead, and is buried alive in the midst of his friends
and acquaintance.
Now can any man of common sense think it consistent with the
honour of my profession, and not much beneath the dignity of a
philosopher, to stand bawling before his own door? ---- Alive!
Alive ho! The famous Dr. Partridge! No counterfeit, but all
alive! ---- As if I had the twelve celestial monsters of the
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