| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Royalty Restored/London Under Charles II by J. Fitzgerald Molloy: later. For fifteen months previous to her demise she had been
suffering from a complication of diseases, with which the medical
skill of that day was unable to cope, and these accumulating, in
March, 1671, ended her days. The "Stuart Papers" furnish an
interesting account of her death. Seeing the hour was at hand
which would sever her from all earthly ties, she besought her
husband not to leave her whilst life remained. She likewise
requested that in case Dr. Blandford or any other of the bishops
should come to visit her, he would tell them she had become a
member of the Catholic Church; but if they insisted on seeing her
she was satisfied to admit them, providing they would not
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Margret Howth: A Story of To-day by Rebecca Harding Davis: mill. He could think of her in no other light. He might have
done so; for the poor girl had her other sides for view. She had
one of those sharp, tawdry intellects whose possessors are always
reckoned "brilliant women, fine talkers." She was (aside from
the necessary sarcasm to keep up this reputation) a good-humoured
soul enough,--when no one stood in her way. But if her shallow
virtues or vices were palpable at all to him, they became one
with the torpid beauty of the oppressive summer day, and weighed
on him alike with a vague disgust. The woman luxuriated in
perfume; some heavy odour always hung about her. Holmes,
thinking of her now, fancied he felt it stifling the air, and
Margret Howth: A Story of To-day |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Jolly Corner by Henry James: thirty-three, to be exact; and they now seemed to him to have
organised their performance quite on the scale of that licence. He
had been twenty-three on leaving New York - he was fifty-six to-
day; unless indeed he were to reckon as he had sometimes, since his
repatriation, found himself feeling; in which case he would have
lived longer than is often allotted to man. It would have taken a
century, he repeatedly said to himself, and said also to Alice
Staverton, it would have taken a longer absence and a more averted
mind than those even of which he had been guilty, to pile up the
differences, the newnesses, the queernesses, above all the
bignesses, for the better or the worse, that at present assaulted
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