- Software name: appdown
- Software type: Microsoft Framwork
- size: 65MB
Near Haccourt, by the bank of the Meuse, I noticed a terrible glare of fire and dense smoke. It was an alarming sight, and made me fear the direst things. I considered for a moment whether I should go there or not, fearing that I had already taxed my nerves too much. Yet, I made up my mind to go, and by a side-way got to the Meuse, near Vis. German engineers were busy here laying telephone wires, and an officer stopped me, threatening me with his revolver. It was obvious that they were no longer accustomed to see civilians on that road. After having examined my passport and seeing that I was a Netherland journalist, he became very friendly, and politely urged me not to go farther.
And so I began to hear the tale. I was startled by its strong reminder of Charlotte's own life; but Charlotte answered my anxious glance with a brow so unfretted that I let the reading go on, and so made a cruel mistake. At every turning-point in the story its reader would have paused to talk it over, but Charlotte, with a steadily darkling brow, murmured each time "Go on," and I was silent, hoping that farther along there would be a better place to stop for good. Not so; the story's whirling flood swept us forward to a juncture ever drawing nearer and clearer, clearer and crueler, where a certain man would have to choose between the woman he loved and that breadth and fruitfulness of life to which his splendid gifts imperiously pointed him. Oh, you story-tellers! Every next page put the question plainer, drove the iron deeper: must a man, or even may a man, wed his love, when she stands between him and his truest career, a drawback and drag upon his finest service to his race and day? And, oh, me! who let my eye quail when Charlotte searched it, as though her own case had brought that question to me before ever we had seen this book. And, oh, that impenetrable woman reading! Her husband was in Lee's army, out of which, she boasted, she would steal him in a minute if she could. She was with us, now, only because, at whatever cost to others, she was going where no advancement of the enemy's lines could shut her off from him; and so stop reading a moment she must, to declare her choice for Love as against all the careers on earth, and to put that choice fairly to shame by the unworthiness of her pleadings in its defence. I intervened; I put her grovelling arguments aside and thrust better ones in, for the same choice, and then, in the fear that they were not enough, stumbled into special pleading and protested that the book itself had put the question unfairly.
We have assumed in our last remark that it is possible to discover some sort of chronological order in the Platonic Dialogues, and to trace a certain progressive modification in the general tenor of their teaching from first to last. But here also the positive evidence is very scanty, and a variety of conflicting theories have been propounded by eminent scholars. Where so much is left to conjecture, the best that can be said for any hypothesis is that it explains the facts according to known laws of thought. It will be for the reader to judge whether our own attempt to trace the gradual evolution of Platos system satisfies this condition. In making it we shall take as a basis the arrangement adopted by Prof. Jowett, with some reservations hereafter to be specified.
"It will give me a good supper free," he said, "and a glass of wine. And if you try any tricks on me, heaven help you, for I won't!"
CHAPTER LVIII. NEARING THE END.
"Well, that is right enough. But, mind, don't say in your paper that you found troops here, and especially avoid telling which troops."CHAPTER X