They are men without the necessary leaven of introspection.
Of themselves, in fact, they know nothing, learn nothing even in the
remorse when the deed is done. For first of all, they are men of
strength--men who can over-ride, with determination, rough-shod,
the hampering results of their follies. Fate and circumstance have
no power over them. They make their own destiny; cutting, if
necessary, the knots they have tied, with a knife-edge of will that
needs but the one clear sweep to set them free.
Of this type--a vivid example--is Traill. The lust of animalism and
the determination to possess the woman he once desired, were the two
channels, swept into which, he became ungovernable. All clear
judgment which he displayed in the management of his work, all
foresight which he possessed to a degree in the arrangement of common,
mundane affairs, were in such a moment cast out of him. Brute instinct
hugged him in its embrace. He lost all sense of honour, who could
in other matters be most honourable of all. All sense of pity he left,
to become the animal that scents its prey, and stretches limbs,
strains heart to reach it. In those moments when the hunger held him,
he took the cruelty of the beast into his heart, and drove all else
out before it.
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