Mark the interjections in the following quotations. Note the independent
constructions. Mark the words used as explanatory words in apposition.
In the mind's eye, I see a wonderful building, something like the
Coliseum of ancient Rome. The galleries are black with people; tier
upon tier rise like waves the multitude of spectators who have come to
see a great contest. A great contest, indeed! A contest in which all
the world and all the centuries are interested. It is the contest--the
fight to death--between Truth and Error.
The door opens, and a slight, small, shy and insignificant looking
thing steps into the arena. It is Truth. The vast audience bursts into
hilarious and derisive laughter. What! Is this Truth? This shuddering
thing in tattered clothes, and almost naked? And the house shakes
again with mocking and hisses.
The door opens again, and Error enters--clad in cloth of gold,
imposing in appearance, tall of stature, glittering with gems, sleek
and huge and ponderous, causing the building to tremble with the thud
of its steps. The audience is for a moment dazzled into silence, then
it breaks into applause, long and deafening. "Welcome!" "Welcome!" is
the greeting from the multitude. "Welcome!" shout ten thousand
throats.
The two contestants face each other. Error, in full armor--backed by
the sympathies of the audience, greeted by the clamorous cheering of
the spectators; and Truth, scorned, scoffed at, and hated. "The issue
is a foregone conclusion," murmurs the vast audience. "Error will
trample Truth under its feet."
The battle begins. The two clinch, separate, and clinch again. Truth
holds its own. The spectators are alarmed. Anxiety appears in their
faces. Their voices grow faint. Is it possible? Look! See! There!
Error recedes! It fears the gaze of Truth! It shuns its beauteous
eyes! Hear it shriek and scream as it feels Truth's squeeze upon its
wrists. Error is trying to break away from Truth's grip. It is making
for the door. It is gone!
The spectators are mute. Every tongue is smitten with the palsy. The
people bite their lips until they bleed. They cannot explain what they
have seen. "Oh! who would have believed it?" "Is it possible?"--they
exclaim. But they cannot doubt what their eyes have seen--that puny
and insignificant looking thing called Truth has put ancient and
entrenched Error, backed by the throne, the altar, the army, the
press, the people and the gods--to rout.
The pursuit of truth! Is it not worth living for? To seek the truth,
to love the truth, to live the truth? Can any religion offer
more?--_Mangasarian_.