| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from In Darkest England and The Way Out by General William Booth: restriction, followed in too many cases by imprisonment, and by the
condemnatory outpourings of Bishops, Clergy, Pressmen and others,
naturally followed in too many instances by the oaths and curses,
the blows and insults of the populace. Through all this, in country
after country, the Army makes its way to the position of universal
respect, that respect, at any rate, which is shown to those who have
conquered. And of what material has this conquering host been made?
Wherever the Army goes it gathers into its meetings, in the first
instance, a crowd of the most debased, brutal, blasphemous elements
that can be found who, if permitted, interrupt the services,
and if they see the slightest sign of police tolerance for their
In Darkest England and The Way Out |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens: do it kindly and tenderly if I can. I have a trust to discharge,
which my nature is not formed to understand, and, for this reason,
the bare fact of there being any love between them comes upon me
to-night, almost for the first time.'
'I am more delighted than I can possibly tell you,' rejoined Mr
Chester with the utmost blandness, 'to find my own impression so
confirmed. You see the advantage of our having met. We understand
each other. We quite agree. We have a most complete and thorough
explanation, and we know what course to take.--Why don't you taste
your tenant's wine? It's really very good.'
'Pray who,' said Mr Haredale, 'have aided Emma, or your son? Who
Barnaby Rudge |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Cousin Betty by Honore de Balzac: satin brocade in two shades of blue, trimmed with Honiton lace enough
to have fed a whole village for a month.
Pretty Jenny Cadine, not acting that evening, came in a dress of
incredible splendor; her portrait is too well known to need any
description. A party is always a Longchamps of evening dress for these
ladies, each anxious to win the prize for her millionaire by thus
announcing to her rivals:
"This is the price I am worth!"
A third woman, evidently at the initial stage of her career, gazed,
almost shamefaced, at the luxury of her two established and wealthy
companions. Simply dressed in white cashmere trimmed with blue, her
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