| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Essays of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson: little, children of the people, saunter and gambol in the walled
court or feed the ducks in the neglected moat. Plough-horses, mighty
of limb, browse in the long stables. The dial-hand on the clock
waits for some better hour. Out on the plain, where hot sweat
trickles into men's eyes, and the spade goes in deep and comes up
slowly, perhaps the peasant may feel a movement of joy at his heart
when he thinks that these spacious chimneys are now cold, which have
so often blazed and flickered upon gay folk at supper, while he and
his hollow-eyed children watched through the night with empty bellies
and cold feet. And perhaps, as he raises his head and sees the
forest lying like a coast-line of low hills along the sea-level of
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Twelve Stories and a Dream by H. G. Wells: though it seems highly probable that he continued to support
himself by teaching while he prosecuted the studies necessary for
this distinction. And then, oddly enough, one finds him mentioned
in the correspondence of Arthur Hicks, the poet.
"You remember Filmer," Hicks writes to his friend Vance; "well,
HE hasn't altered a bit, the same hostile mumble and the nasty
chin--how CAN a man contrive to be always three days from shaving?
-- and a sort of furtive air of being engaged in sneaking in front
of one; even his coat and that frayed collar of his show no further
signs of the passing years. He was writing in the library and
I sat down beside him in the name of God's charity, whereupon
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tales of the Klondyke by Jack London: one night, upon Floyd Vanderlip.
Few men are so constituted that they may receive the smile of
Freda unmoved; nor among them can Floyd Vanderlip be accounted.
The grace he had found with the model-woman had caused him to re-
measure himself, and by the favor in which he now stood with the
Greek dancer he felt himself doubly a man. There were unknown
qualities and depths in him, evidently, which they perceived. He
did not know exactly what those qualities and depths were, but he
had a hazy idea that they were there somewhere, and of them was
bred a great pride in himself. A man who could force two women
such as these to look upon him a second time, was certainly a most
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