Tuesday, December 24, 2019

My Personal Experience At The Bible - 875 Words

Last month, I challenged my readers, my friends, and my fellow Family Christian bloggers to spend 30 Days in the Word. The challenge ran from August 3rd-September 2nd. During that time participants pledged to read from the bible everyday (any book) and also to create one piece of bible journaling worship art each of the 4 weeks. Now that the 30 days have come to a close I wanted to share some of my artwork, and to ask you to share how spending time in daily communion with God and worshiping through bible journaling has effected you. My Personal Experience On August 1st, days before the bible journaling challenge began, I completed a 1 year bible reading plan. It marked the 1st time since I had surrendered my life to Christ that I had read the entire bible in a year. Over the past year God has expanded my view of His goodness and grace, challenged my thoughts and motives, and encouraged me to persevere in my journey towards becoming more like Christ. The reading portion of the challenge was intended to help others find the same burgeoning view of God and passion for hearing from Him. Did you already have a regular quiet time before you began the challenge? Do you notice a difference in your day or in your week when you have spent time reading the Bible? The second part of the challenge was the bible journaling itself. In it s purest form bible journaling is worship — God s people lavishing our love, respect, honor, thanksgiving, and devotion on our Mighty God. Have IShow MoreRelatedThe United Methodist Church’s Book of Discipline Essay1169 Words   |  5 PagesThe United Methodist Church’s Book of Discipline states, â€Å"Wesley believed that the living core of the Christian faith was revealed in Scripture, illuminated by tradition, vivified in personal experience, and confirmed by reason†. This statement outlines the concept of the Wesleyan Quadrilateral. Interestingly, John Wesley never actually used the term â€Å"quadrilateral† and the American Methodist scholar, Albert C. Outler, who later stated that he regretted doing so as it has been misconstrued, namedRead MorePaulo Coelho And His Religious Diversity918 Words   |  4 Pages Paulo Coelho and his Religious Diversity The Alchemist contains many religious elements and symbolism that stem directly from Paulo Coelho’s personal life. By incorporating a diverse collection of personal experiences to bring the world of The Alchemist alive, Paulo Coelho drew readers of all kinds to his novel. Even during his time at the Jesuit school, Paulo Coelho was developing thoughts and ideas of his own about faith and religion, ideas which are clearly reflected in The Alchemist. The varietyRead MoreMy Views On Education, Sports, And My Readings Of The Bible1142 Words   |  5 Pageswho I am because of the experiences I have had through education, organized sports, and my readings of The Bible. I have never been an individual who loves to read. I have read many books, but mainly for school purposes. My values and attributes come from being accepted into the Skip a Book Program in sixth grade, my love for soccer and how it devoured most of my time from the ages of three to sixteen, and my own personal beliefs I have acquired through studying The Bible. To begin, the valuesRead MoreA Personal Relationship With Jesus1520 Words   |  7 Pageshe Origin of a Personal Relationship Concept â€Å"Personal relationship with Jesus.† Being an Atheist, I’ve had hundreds of arguments with Christians about Jesus and religion in general. No matter what evidence I provided, the Christian always seemed to bypass it with the Personal relationship cop out. They would tell me they don’t practice religion, and that they have a personal relationship with Jesus. 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One, because I had no intention of ever becoming a pastor, and two because even at that age I was already running with neighborhood gangs and engaged in very unchristian activities. As the acolyte, week after week I carried my candle lighter and sat beside him on the altar. I watched the people laugh, cry, fall asleep, and occasionallyRead MoreA Summary On Charismatic Faith And Ministry1693 Words   |  7 Pagescerebral approach to the gospel. His lack of personal encounters and stories are evidence to that fact. However, this i s a refreshing approach that presents the gospel with just the basic facts and not many frills. I believe that Thimell’s purpose in writing this book was not to give an exhaustive book on Charismatic Theology, but to show how Charismata fit within his systematic theology. Thimell showed that Charismata is not an appendix to the Bible, but an integral and many times overlooked theologyRead MoreThe Relevance and Authority of Scripture Essay952 Words   |  4 Pagesa positive to the movement. Bible is used as the center of the Christian faith, however where they went wrong was saying that God is not moving anymore and what we have in this book is all that there is. There is no need for any more revelation because the Bible is complete. Actions will be based on the foundations of the Scriptures and things that do not directly align with this scriptures will not be tolerated. The evangelical movement held to the truth that the Bible is the authoritative Word ofRead MoreMy Persona l Christian Worldview1439 Words   |  6 PagesMy Personal Worldview My personal Christian worldview is full of heavy doses of God, and plenty of drizzles of the Bible, and it was born from a combination of how I was raised, my life experiences, and my assumptions. This worldview is heavily involved as I bring up my children to love God, and do my best to be a good wife to my husband. Most of all, this combination has filled my heart and soul with the conclusion that God is my all! I was raised in a Christian home where my parents taught God’sRead MoreMy Personal Experience With Heavenly Mother1170 Words   |  5 Pagesbelieve in The New Jerusalem because I have personal experience with her, the Bible clearly testifies about her as the spiritual life giver, and anyone can see evidence of this fact even in nature.Through my personal experience with Heavenly Mother, I can say truly she is God almighty, who gives salvation in the Last Days. I was in the chains of sin and death, destined to die. I could never understand what was missing in my life. Through my sinful nature I tried to fill this void with

Sunday, December 15, 2019

The Golden Compass Chapter Sixteen Free Essays

string(53) " through the ceiling that this boy showed me†¦\." Chapter Sixteen The Silver Guillotine Lyra ducked her head at once under the shelter of her wolverine hood, and shuffled in through the double doors with the other children. Time enough later to worry about what she’d say when they came face to face: she had another problem to deal with first, and that was how to hide her furs where she could get at them without asking permission. But luckily, there was such disorder inside, with the adults trying to hurry the children through so as to clear the way for the passengers from the zeppelin, that no one was watching very carefully. We will write a custom essay sample on The Golden Compass Chapter Sixteen or any similar topic only for you Order Now Lyra slipped out of the anorak, the leggings, and the boots and bundled them up as small as she could before shoving through the crowded corridors to her dormitory. Quickly she dragged a locker to the corner, stood on it, and pushed at the ceiling. The panel lifted, just as Roger had said, and into the space beyond she thrust the boots and leggings. As an afterthought, she took the alethiometer from her pouch and hid it in the inmost pocket of the anorak before shoving that through too. She jumped down, pushed back the locker, and whispered to Pantalaimon, â€Å"We must just pretend to be stupid till she sees us, and then say we were kidnapped. And nothing about the gyptians or lorek Byrnison especially.† Because Lyra now realized, if she hadn’t done so before, that all the fear in her nature was drawn to Mrs. Coulter as a compass needle is drawn to the Pole. All the other things she’d seen, and even the hideous cruelty of the intercision, she could cope with; she was strong enough; but the thought of that sweet face and gentle voice, the image of that golden playful monkey, was enough to melt her stomach and make her pale and nauseated. But the gyptians were coming. Think of that. Think of lorek Byrnison. And don’t give yourself away, she said, and drifted back toward the canteen, from where a lot of noise was coming. Children were lining up to get hot drinks, some of them still in their coal-silk anoraks. Their talk was all of the zep-pelin and its passenger. â€Å"It was her – with the monkey daemon – â€Å" â€Å"Did she get you, too?† â€Å"She said she’d write to my mum and dad and I bet she never†¦.† â€Å"She never told us about kids getting killed. She never said nothing about that.† â€Å"That monkey, he’s the worst – he caught my Karossa and nearly killed her – I could feel all weak†¦.† They were as frightened as Lyra was. She found Annie and the others, and sat down. â€Å"Listen,† she said, â€Å"can you keep a secret?† â€Å"Yeah!† The three faces turned to her, vivid with expectation. â€Å"There’s a plan to escape,† Lyra said quietly. â€Å"There’s some people coming to take us away, right, and they’ll be here in about a day. Maybe sooner. What we all got to do is be ready as soon as the signal goes and get our cold-weather clothes at once and run out. No waiting about. You just got to run. Only if you don’t get your anoraks and boots and stuff, you’ll die of cold.† â€Å"What signal?† Annie demanded. â€Å"The fire bell, like this afternoon. It’s all organized. All the kids’re going to know and none of the grownups. Especially not her.† Their eyes were gleaming with hope and excitement. And all through the canteen the message was being passed around. Lyra could tell that the atmosphere had changed. Outside, the children had been energetic and eager for play; then when they had seen Mrs. Coulter they were bubbling with a suppressed hysterical fear; but now there was a control and purpose to their talkativeness. Lyra marveled at the effect hope could have. She watched through the open doorway, but carefully, ready to duck her head, because there were adult voices coming, and then Mrs. Coulter herself was briefly visible, looking in and smiling at the happy children, with their hot drinks and their cake, so warm and well fed. A little shiver ran almost instantaneously through the whole canteen, and every child was still and silent, staring at her. Mrs. Coulter smiled and passed on without a word. Little by little the talk started again. Lyra said, â€Å"Where do they go to talk?† â€Å"Probably the conference room,† said Annie. â€Å"They took us there once,† she added, meaning her and her dasmon. â€Å"There was about twenty grownups there and one of ’em was giving a lecture and I had to stand there and do what he told me, like seeing how far my Kyrillion could go away from me, and then he hypnotized me and did some other things†¦.It’s a big room with a lot of chairs and tables and a little platform. It’s behind the front office. Hey, I bet they’re going to pretend the fire drill went off all right. I bet they’re scared of her, same as we are†¦.† For the rest of the day, Lyra stayed close to the other girls, watching, saying little, remaining inconspicuous. There was exercise, there was sewing, there was supper, there was playtime in the lounge: a big shabby room with board games and a few tattered books and a table-tennis table. At some point Lyra and the others became aware that there was some kind of subdued emergency going on, because the adults were hurrying to and fro or standing in anxious groups talking urgently. Lyra guessed they’d discovered the daemons’ escape, and were wondering how it had happened. But she didn’t see Mrs. Coulter, which was a relief. When it was time for bed, she knew she had to let the other girls into her confidence. â€Å"Listen,† she said, â€Å"do they ever come round and see if we’re asleep?† â€Å"They just look in once,† said Bella. â€Å"They just flash a lantern round, they don’t really look.† â€Å"Good. ‘Cause I’m going to go and look round. There’s a way through the ceiling that this boy showed me†¦. You read "The Golden Compass Chapter Sixteen" in category "Essay examples"† She explained, and before she’d even finished, Annie said, â€Å"I’ll come with you!† â€Å"No, you better not, ’cause it’ll be easier if there’s just one person missing. You can all say you fell asleep and you don’t know where I’ve gone.† â€Å"But if I came with you – â€Å" â€Å"More likely to get caught,† said Lyra. Their two daemons were staring at each other, Pantalaimon as a wildcat, Annie’s Kyrillion as a fox. They were quivering. Pantalaimon uttered the lowest, softest hiss and bared his teeth, and Kyrillion turned aside and began to groom himself unconcernedly. â€Å"All right then,† said Annie, resigned. It was quite common for struggles between children to be settled by their daemons in this way, with one accepting the dominance of the other. Their humans accepted the outcome without resentment, on the whole, so Lyra knew that Annie would do as she asked. They all contributed items of clothing to bulk out Lyra’s bed and make it look as if she was still there, and swore to say they knew nothing about it. Then Lyra listened at the door to make sure no one was coming, jumped up on the locker, pushed up the panel, and hauled herself through. â€Å"Just don’t say anything,† she whispered down to the three faces watching. Then she dropped the panel gently back into place and looked around. She was crouching in a narrow metal channel supported in a framework of girders and struts. The panels of the ceilings were slightly translucent, so some light came up from below, and in the faint gleam Lyra could see this narrow space (only two feet or so in height) extending in all directions around her. It was crowded with metal ducts and pipes, and it would be easy to get lost in, but provided she kept to the metal and avoided putting any weight on the panels, and as long as she made no noise, she should be able to go from one end of the station to the other. â€Å"It’s just like back in Jordan, Pan,† she whispered, â€Å"looking in the Retiring Room.† â€Å"If you hadn’t done that, none of this would have happened,† he whispered back. â€Å"Then it’s up to me to undo it, isn’t it?† She got her bearings, working out approximately which direction the conference room was in, and then set off. It was a far from easy journey. She had to move on hands and knees, because the space was too low to crouch in, and every so often she had to squeeze under a big square duct or lift herself over some heating pipes. The metal channels she crawled in followed the tops of internal walls, as far as she could tell, and as long as she stayed in them she felt a comforting solidity below her; but they were very narrow, and had sharp edges, so sharp that she cut her knuckles and her knees on them, and before long she was sore all over, and cramped, and dusty. But she knew roughly where she was, and she could see the dark bulk of her furs crammed in above the dormitory to guide her back. She could tell where a room was empty because the panels were dark, and from time to time she heard voices from below, and stopped to listen, but it was only the cooks in the kitchen, or the nurses in what Lyra, in her Jordan way, thought of as their common room. They were saying nothing interesting, so she moved on. At last she came to the area where the conference room should be, according to her calculations; and sure enough, there was an area free of any pipework, where air conditioning and heating ducts led down at one end, and where all the panels in a wide rectangular space were lit evenly. She placed her ear to the panel, and heard a murmur of male adult voices, so she knew she had found the right place. She listened carefully, and then inched her way along till she was as close as she could get to the speakers. Then she lay full length in the metal channel and leaned her head sideways to hear as well as she could. There was the occasional clink of cutlery, or the sound of glass on glass as drink was poured, so they were having dinner as they talked. There were four voices, she thought, including Mrs. Coulter’s. The other three were men. They seemed to be discussing the escaped dasmons. â€Å"But who is in charge of supervising that section?† said Mrs. Coulter’s gentle musical voice. â€Å"A research student called McKay,† said one of the men. â€Å"But there are automatic mechanisms to prevent this sort of thing happening – â€Å" â€Å"They didn’t work,† she said. â€Å"With respect, they did, Mrs. Coulter. McKay assures us that he locked all the cages when he left the building at eleven hundred hours today. The outer door of course would not have been open in any case, because he entered and left by the inner door, as he normally did. There’s a code that has to be entered in the ordinator controlling the locks, and there’s a record in its memory of his doing so. Unless that’s done, an alarm goes off.† â€Å"But the alarm didn’t go off,† she said. â€Å"It did. Unfortunately, it rang when everyone was outside, taking part in the fire drill.† â€Å"But when you went back inside – â€Å" â€Å"Unfortunately, both alarms are on the same circuit; that’s a design fault that will have to be rectified. What it meant was that when the fire bell was turned off after the practice, the laboratory alarm was turned off as well. Even then it would still have been picked up, because of the normal checks that would have taken place after every disruption of routine; but by that time, Mrs. Coulter, you had arrived unexpectedly, and if you recall, you asked specifically to meet the laboratory staff there and then, in your room. Consequently, no one returned to the laboratory until some time later.† â€Å"I see,† said Mrs. Coulter coldly. â€Å"In that case, the daemons must have been released during the fire drill itself. And that widens the list of suspects to include every adult in the station. Had you considered that?† â€Å"Had you considered that it might have been done by a child?† said someone else. She was silent, and the second man went on: â€Å"Every adult had a task to do, and every task would have taken their full attention, and every task was done. There is no possibility that any of the staff here could have opened the door. None. So either someone came from outside altogether with the intention of doing that, or one of the children managed to find his way there, open the door and the cages, and return to the front of the main building.† â€Å"And what are you doing to investigate?† she said. â€Å"No; on second thought, don’t tell me. Please understand, Dr. Cooper, I’m not criticizing out of malice. We have to be quite extraordinarily careful. It was an atrocious lapse to have allowed both alarms to be on the same circuit. That must be corrected at once. Possibly the Tartar officer in charge of the guard could help your investigation? I merely mention that as a possibility. Where were the Tartars during the fire drill, by the way? I suppose you have considered that?† â€Å"Yes, we have,† said the man wearily. â€Å"The guard was fully occupied on patrol, every man. They keep meticulous records.† â€Å"I’m sure you’re doing your very best,† she said. â€Å"Well, there we are. A great pity. But enough of that for now. Tell me about the new separator.† Lyra felt a thrill of fear. There was only one thing this could mean. â€Å"Ah,† said the doctor, relieved to find the conversation turning to another subject, â€Å"there’s a real advance. With the first model we could never entirely overcome the risk of the patient dying of shock, but we’ve improved that no end.† â€Å"The Skraelings did it better by hand,† said a man who hadn’t spoken yet. â€Å"Centuries of practice,† said the other man. â€Å"But simply tearing was the only option for some time,† said the main speaker, â€Å"however distressing that was to the adult operators. If you remember, we had to discharge quite a number for reasons of stress-related anxiety. But the first big breakthrough was the use of anesthesia combined with the Maystadt anbaric scalpel. We were able to reduce death from operative shock to below five percent.† â€Å"And the new instrument?† said Mrs. Coulter. Lyra was trembling. The blood was pounding in her ears, and Pantalaimon was pressing his ermine form against her side, and whispering, â€Å"Hush, Lyra, they won’t do it – we won’t let them do it – â€Å" â€Å"Yes, it was a curious discovery by Lord Asriel himself that gave us the key to the new method. He discovered that an alloy of manganese and titanium has the property of insulating body from daemon. By the way, what is happening with Lord Asriel?† â€Å"Perhaps you haven’t heard,† said Mrs. Coulter. â€Å"Lord Asriel is under suspended sentence of death. One of the conditions of his exile in Svalbard was that he give up his philosophical work entirely. Unfortunately, he managed to obtain books and materials, and he’s pushed his heretical investigations to the point where it’s positively dangerous to let him live. At any rate, it seems that the Vatican Council has begun to debate the question of the sentence of death, and the probability is that it’ll be carried out. But your new instrument, Doctor. How does it work?† â€Å"Ah – yes – sentence of death, you say? Gracious God†¦I’m sorry. The new instrument. We’re investigating what happens when the intercision is made with the patient in a conscious state, and of course that couldn’t be done with the Maystadt process. So we’ve developed a kind of guillotine, I suppose you could say. The blade is made of manganese and titanium alloy, and the child is placed in a compartment – like a small cabin – of alloy mesh, with the daemon in a similar compartment connecting with it. While there is a connection, of course, the link remains. Then the blade is brought down between them, severing the link at once. They are then separate entities.† â€Å"I should like to see it,† she said. â€Å"Soon, I hope. But I’m tired now. I think I’ll go to bed. I want to see all the children tomorrow. We shall find out who opened that door.† There was the sound of chairs being pushed back, polite expressions, a door closing. Then Lyra heard the others sit down again, and go on talking, but more quietly. â€Å"What is Lord Asriel up to?† â€Å"I think he’s got an entirely different idea of the nature of Dust. That’s the point. It’s profoundly heretical, you see, and the Consistorial Court of Discipline can’t allow any other interpretation than the authorized one. And besides, he wants to experiment – â€Å" â€Å"To experiment? With Dust?† â€Å"Hush! Not so loud†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Do you think she’ll make an unfavorable report?† â€Å"No, no. I think you dealt with her very well.† â€Å"Her attitude worries me†¦.† â€Å"Not philosophical, you mean?† â€Å"Exactly. A personal interest. I don’t like to use the word, but it’s almost ghoulish.† â€Å"That’s a bit strong.† â€Å"But do you remember the first experiments, when she was so keen to see thefn pulled apart – â€Å" Lyra,coutdn’t help it: a little cry escaped her, and at the same time she tensed and shivered, and her foot knocked against a stanchion. â€Å"What was that?† â€Å"In the ceiling – â€Å" â€Å"Quick!† The sound of chairs being thrown aside, feet running, a table pulled across the floor. Lyra tried to scramble away, but there was so little space, and before she could move more than a few yards the ceiling panel beside her was thrust up suddenly, and she was looking into the startled face of a man. She was close enough to see every hair in his moustache. He was as startled as she was, but with more freedom to move, he was able to thrust a hand into the gap and seize her arm. â€Å"A child!† â€Å"Don’t let her go – â€Å" Lyra sank her teeth into his large freckled hand. He cried out, but didn’t let go, even when she drew blood. Pan-talaimon was snarling and spitting, but it was no good, the man was much stronger than she was, and he pulled and pulled until her other hand, desperately clinging to the stanchion, had to loosen, and she half-fell through into the room. Still she didn’t utter a sound. She hooked her legs over the sharp edge of the metal above, and struggled upside down, scratching, biting, punching, spitting in passionate fury. The men were gasping and grunting with pain or exertion, but they pulled and pulled. And suddenly all the strength went out of her. It was as if an alien hand had reached right inside where no hand had a right to be, and wrenched at something deep and precious. She felt faint, dizzy, sick, disgusted, limp with shock. One of the men was holding Pantalaimon. He had seized Lyra’s daemon in his human hands, and poor Pan was shaking, nearly out of his mind with horror and disgust. His wildcat shape, his fur now dull with weakness, now sparking glints of anbaric alarm†¦He curved toward his Lyra as she reached with both hands for him†¦. They fell still. They were captured. She felt those hands†¦.It wasn’t allowed†¦.Not supposed to touch†¦ Wrong†¦. â€Å"Was she on her own?† A man was peering into the ceiling space. â€Å"Seems to be on her own†¦.† â€Å"Who is she?† â€Å"The new child.† â€Å"The one the Samoyed hunters†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"You don’t suppose she†¦the daemons†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Could well be. But not on her own, surely?† â€Å"Should we tell – â€Å" â€Å"I think that would put the seal on things, don’t you?† â€Å"I agree. Better she doesn’t hear at all.† â€Å"But what can we do about this?† â€Å"She can’t go back with the other children.† â€Å"Impossible!† â€Å"There’s only one thing we can do, it seems to me.† â€Å"Now?† â€Å"Have to. Can’t leave it till the morning. She wants to watch.† â€Å"We could do it ourselves. No need to involve anyone else.† The man who seemed to be in charge, the man who wasn’t holding either Lyra or Pantalaimon, tapped his teeth with a thumbnail. His eyes were never still; they flicked and slid and darted this way and that. Finally he nodded. â€Å"Now. Do it now,† he said. â€Å"Otherwise she’ll talk. The shock will prevent that, at least. She won’t remember who she is, what she saw, what she heard†¦.Come on.† Lyra couldn’t speak. She could hardly breathe. She had to let herself be carried through the station, along white empty corridors, past rooms humming with anbaric power, past the dormitories where children slept with their dasmons on the pillow beside them, sharing their dreams; and every second of the way she watched Pantalaimon, and he reached for her, and their eyes never left each other. Then a door which opened by means of a large wheel; a hiss of air; and a brilliantly lit chamber with dazzling white tiles and stainless steel. The fear she felt was almost a physical pain; it was a physical pain, as they pulled her and Pantalaimon over toward a large cage of pale silver mesh, above which a great pale silver blade hung poised to separate them forever and ever. She found a voice at last, and screamed. The sound echoed loudly off the shiny surfaces, but the heavy door had hissed shut; she could scream and scream forever, and not a sound would escape. But Pantalaimon, in answer, had twisted free of those hateful hands – he was a lion, an eagle; he tore at them with vicious talons, great wings beat wildly, and then he was a wolf, a bear, a polecat – darting, snarling, slashing, a succession of transformations too quick to register, and all the time leaping, flying, dodging from one spot to another as their clumsy hands flailed and snatched at the empty air. But they had daemons too, of course. It wasn’t two against three, it was two against six. A badger, an owl, and a baboon were all just as intent to pin Pantalaimon down, and Lyra was crying to them: â€Å"Why? Why are you doing this? Help us! You shouldn’t be helping them!† And she kicked and bit more passionately than ever, until the man holding her gasped and let go for a moment – and she was free, and Pantalaimon sprang toward her like a spark of lightning, and she clutched him to her fierce breast, and he dug his wildcat claws into her flesh, and every stab of pain was dear to her. â€Å"Never! Never! Never!† she cried, and backed against the wall to defend him to their death. But they fell on her again, three big brutal men, and she was only a child, shocked and terrified; and they tore Pantalaimon away, and threw her into one side of the cage of mesh and carried him, struggling still, around to the other. There was a mesh barrier between them, but he was still part of her, they were still joined. For a second or so more, he was still her own dear soul. Above the panting of the men, above her own sobs, above the high wild howl of her daemon, Lyra heard a humming sound, and saw one man (bleeding from the nose) operate a bank of switches. The other two looked up, and her eyes followed theirs. The great pale silver blade was rising slowly, catching the brilliant light. The last moment in her complete life was going to be the worst by far. â€Å"What is going on here?† A light, musical voice: her voice. Everything stopped. â€Å"What are you doing? And who is this child – â€Å" She didn’t complete the word child, because in that instant she recognized Lyra. Through tear-blurred eyes Lyra saw her totter and clutch at a bench; her face, so beautiful and composed, grew in a moment haggard and horror-struck. â€Å"Lyra – † she whispered. The golden monkey darted from her side in a flash, and tugged Pantalaimon out from the mesh cage as Lyra fell out herself. Pantalaimon pulled free of the monkey’s solicitous paws and stumbled to Lyra’s arms. â€Å"Never, never,† she breathed into his fur, and he pressed his beating heart to hers. They clung together like survivors of a shipwreck, shivering on a desolate coast. Dimly she heard Mrs. Coulter speaking to the men, but she couldn’t even interpret her tone of voice. And then they were leaving that hateful room, and Mrs. Coulter was half-carrying, half-supporting her along a corridor, and then there was a door, a bedroom, scent in the air, soft light. Mrs. Coulter laid her gently on the bed. Lyra’s arm was so tight around Pantalaimon that she was trembling with the force of it. A tender hand stroked her head. â€Å"My dear, dear child,† said that sweet voice. â€Å"However did you come to be here?† How to cite The Golden Compass Chapter Sixteen, Essay examples

Saturday, December 7, 2019

Populist Dbq free essay sample

The success of industrialization put agriculture and farmers on the download, allowing the corporations to overtake the farmers. Since the government itself was also pro-business during this time, they could’ve cared less about the farmers. Farmers knew that industrialization had been successful during this time, this allowed them to modernize their farming techniques. Farmers began to use new farming machinery which made growing wheat much faster and efficient. The farmers had to buy new tools such as the thresher, which was very expensive. Farmers went to the banks to borrow money. Banks would take advantage of the farmers and raise the interest rates. This made the farmers fall into debt. Farmers began losing more and more money and were then forced their mortgages foreclosed on. Farmers became sort of like slaves to the banks. Banks eventually took away everything the farmers owned. (Doc. D) The farmers’ complaints were justified because of the bankers’ injustice toward the farmers. We will write a custom essay sample on Populist Dbq or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Bankers let them fall into debt with higher interest rates and then seized everything they owned. Just like the bank, railroad companies also scammed farmers. The railroads regularly used rebates and drawbacks to help win the business of large shippers. This made up a loss in profits which caused an increase in the cost to smaller shippers, such as farmers. The railroads also hurt farmers because in some cases the railroad company promised the farmer a set amount price. Like The Octopus, a farmer is promised a two-cent rate for shipping and then is demanded to give five cents (Doc. H). he farmers were just taken advantage of and that action was not justified. The farmer lost three more cents than expected and might cause him to fall into debt. After ripping-off the farmers, the railroad companies tried to justify their actions. George Parker testified that if local and cross-country shippers are not charged the same amount, the company will go bankrupt (Doc G). They tried justifying this practice by asserting that if they didn’t give rebates, they wouldn’t make enou gh profit to stay in business. The farmers were still justified in their complaints because it seriously wounded their profit by taking away that extra three cents, which could easily send a farmer into debt. The populist idea about free silver did not satisfy many people in the government and the economy, such as William McKinley. In his acceptance speech, McKinley states that free silver would not change anything. He believed that if the currency was based on silver; the hours, nor the pay or labor would become easier. It would not make farming more successful or more of a failure. He said that free silver would not be the solution to any of the farmers’ problems (Doc. B). However this opinion by William McKinley is not justified because it’s just an excuse to cover up the downfall that would be caused to big businesses if free silver would be used. Also since McKinley was a Republican and the Republican Party was pro-business and supported the currency of gold, they wouldn’t want to hurt the big businesses and instead help the farmers be released from debt. As time went on, the American farmers found it harder and harder to live happily. Crops such as cotton and wheat were selling at prices so low that it was nearly impossible for farmers to make a profit off them. Furthermore, improvement in transportation made it easier for foreign competition to gain an advantage, making it harder for American farmers to dispose of extra crops that had accumulated. Many railroads offered rebates and drawbacks to larger shippers who used their rails. Banks also increased their interest rates and took advantage of the farmers. With all of these setbacks and opposition, the farmers were justified to complain.