| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians by Martin Luther: issue out of it, lest the unity of the churches be disturbed." To this Paul
replies: "A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump."
Our opponents record the same complaints about us. They put us down as
contentious, ill-tempered faultfinders. But these are the crafty passes of the
devil, with which he seeks to overthrow our faith. We answer with Paul:
"A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump."
Small faults grow into big faults. To tolerate a trifling error inevitably
leads to crass heresy. The doctrine of the Bible is not ours to take or to
allow liberties with. We have no right to change even a tittle of it. When
it comes to life we are ready to do, to suffer, to forgive anything our
opponents demand as long as faith and doctrine remain pure and
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Sportsman by Xenophon: "Cyrop." I. vi. 28, 39-41.
[3] "For the sake of 'auld lang syne.'"
[4] Or, "will place them on the vantage-ground of experts."
Nay, even under the worst of circumstances, when a whole mob of
fellow-combatants[5] has been put to flight, how often ere now has a
handful[6] of such men, by virtue of their bodily health[7] and
courage, caught the victorious enemy roaming blindly in some intricacy
of ground, renewed the fight, and routed him. Since so it must ever
be; to those whose souls and bodies are in happy case success is near
at hand.[8]
[5] Or, "allies."
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Amazing Interlude by Mary Roberts Rinehart: whispered among themselves that mademoiselle was in grief, as they were,
for the blithe young soldier who was gone.
What hope Sara Lee had had died almost entirely early in December. On
the evening of a day when a steady rain had turned the roads into slimy
pitfalls, and the ditches to canals, there came, brought by a Belgian
corporal, the man who swore that Henri had passed him in his trench
while the others slept, had shoved him aside, which was unlike his usual
courtesy, and had climbed out over the top.
To Sara Lee this Hutin told his story. A short man with a red beard and
a kindly smile that revealed teeth almost destroyed from neglect, he was
at first diffident in the extreme.
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