| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Economist by Xenophon: 16, 22; Columell. v. 5. 2; ib. iii. 15. 2; Virg. "Georg." ii. 288.
Soc. No, upon my word, not even more than two feet broad.
Isch. Good! now answer me this question: Did you ever see a trench
less than one foot deep?
Soc. No, indeed! nor even less than one foot and a half. Why, the
plants would be no sooner buried than dug out again, if planted so
extremely near the surface.
Isch. Here, then, is one matter, Socrates, which you know as well as
any one.[6] The trench is not to be sunk deeper than two feet and a
half, or shallower than one foot and a half.
[6] Lit. "quite adequately."
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from On the Duty of Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau: much time, and a man's life will be gone. I have other
affairs to attend to. I came into this world, not chiefly
to make this a good place to live in, but to live in it,
be it good or bad. A man has not everything to do, but
something; and because he cannot do everything, it is
not necessary that he should be petitioning the Governor
or the Legislature any more than it is theirs to petition me;
and if they should not hear my petition, what should I do then?
But in this case the State has provided no way: its very
Constitution is the evil. This may seem to be harsh and
stubborn and unconcilliatory; but it is to treat with the
On the Duty of Civil Disobedience |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Hidden Masterpiece by Honore de Balzac: plain, slight covering of the houses of old Paris. Near the single and
gloomy window of the room sat a young girl, who rose quickly as the
door opened, with a gesture of love; she had recognized the young
man's touch upon the latch.
"What is the matter?" she asked.
"It is--it is," he cried, choking with joy, "that I feel myself a
painter! I have doubted it till now; but to-day I believe in myself. I
can be a great man. Ah, Gillette, we shall be rich, happy! There is
gold in these brushes!"
Suddenly he became silent. His grave and earnest face lost its
expression of joy; he was comparing the immensity of his hopes with
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