| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Travels and Researches in South Africa by Dr. David Livingstone: formerly alight@mercury.interpath.net). To assure a high quality text,
the original was typed in (manually) twice and electronically compared.
[Note on text: Italicized words or phrases are CAPITALIZED.
Some obvious errors have been corrected.]
Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa.
Also called, Travels and Researches in South Africa;
or, Journeys and Researches in South Africa.
By David Livingstone [British (Scot) Missionary and Explorer--1813-1873.]
David Livingstone was born in Scotland, received his medical degree
from the University of Glasgow, and was sent to South Africa
by the London Missionary Society. Circumstances led him to try to meet
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from God The Invisible King by H. G. Wells: the Holy Ghost." . . . Those who will not confess will not be
cured. Sin is a terrible sickness, and casts souls into hell.'
"That is addressed to a child six years of age.
"'I have known,' the book continues, 'poor children who concealed
their sins in confession for years; they were very unhappy, were
tormented with remorse, and if they had died in that state they
would certainly have gone to the everlasting fires of hell.'" . . .
Now here is something against nature, something that I have seen
time after time in the faces and bearing of priests and heard in
their preaching. It is a distinct lust. Much nobility and devotion
there are among priests, saintly lives and kindly lives, lives of
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: begun to fall and the mountain top is covered in mist, knows that he must
lay himself down and die before morning comes, stole upon him, paling the
colour of his eyes, giving him, even in the two minutes of his turn on
the terrace, the bleached look of withered old age. Yet he would not die
lying down; he would find some crag of rock, and there, his eyes fixed
on the storm, trying to the end to pierce the darkness, he would die
standing. He would never reach R.
He stood stock-still, by the urn, with the geranium flowing over it. How
many men in a thousand million, he asked himself, reach Z after all?
Surely the leader of a forlorn hope may ask himself that, and answer,
without treachery to the expedition behind him, "One perhaps." One in a
To the Lighthouse |
