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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Soul of a Bishop by H. G. Wells: second and much more serious Fall.
Princhester was industrial and unashamed. It was a countryside
savagely invaded by forges and mine shafts and gaunt black
things. It was scarred and impeded and discoloured. Even before
that invasion, when the heather was not in flower it must have
been a black country. Its people were dour uncandid individuals,
who slanted their heads and knitted their brows to look at you.
Occasionally one saw woods brown and blistered by the gases from
chemical works. Here and there remained old rectories, closely
reminiscent of the dear old home at Otteringham, jostled and
elbowed and overshadowed by horrible iron cylinders belching
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