| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from God The Invisible King by H. G. Wells: Caesar has any right to tax or to service or to tolerance, except he
claim as one who holds for and under God. And he must make good his
claim. The steps of the altar of the God of Youth are no safe place
for the sacrilegious figure of a king. Who claims "divine right"
plays with the lightning.
The new conceptions do not tolerate either kings or aristocracies or
democracies. Its implicit command to all its adherents is to make
plain the way to the world theocracy. Its rule of life is the
discovery and service of the will of God, which dwells in the hearts
of men, and the performance of that will, not only in the private
life of the believer but in the acts and order of the state and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Laches by Plato: And is not that generally thought to be courage?
LACHES: Yes, certainly.
SOCRATES: Then, Laches, suppose that we first set about determining the
nature of courage, and in the second place proceed to enquire how the young
men may attain this quality by the help of studies and pursuits. Tell me,
if you can, what is courage.
LACHES: Indeed, Socrates, I see no difficulty in answering; he is a man of
courage who does not run away, but remains at his post and fights against
the enemy; there can be no mistake about that.
SOCRATES: Very good, Laches; and yet I fear that I did not express myself
clearly; and therefore you have answered not the question which I intended
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Art of Writing by Robert Louis Stevenson: turned out fifteen chapters; and then, in the early
paragraphs of the sixteenth, ignominiously lost hold. My
mouth was empty; there was not one word of TREASURE ISLAND in
my bosom; and here were the proofs of the beginning already
waiting me at the 'Hand and Spear'! Then I corrected them,
living for the most part alone, walking on the heath at
Weybridge in dewy autumn mornings, a good deal pleased with
what I had done, and more appalled than I can depict to you
in words at what remained for me to do. I was thirty-one; I
was the head of a family; I had lost my health; I had never
yet paid my way, never yet made 200 pounds a year; my father
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