| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Vailima Prayers & Sabbath Morn by Robert Louis Stevenson: invitation to prayer. In response to its summons the white members
of the family took their usual places in one end of the large hall,
while the Samoans - men, women, and children - trooped in through
all the open doors, some carrying lanterns if the evening were
dark, all moving quietly and dropping with Samoan decorum in a wide
semicircle on the floor beneath a great lamp that hung from the
ceiling. The service began by my son reading a chapter from the
Samoan Bible, Tusitala following with a prayer in English,
sometimes impromptu, but more often from the notes in this little
book, interpolating or changing with the circumstance of the day.
Then came the singing of one or more hymns in the native tongue,
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Legend of Montrose by Walter Scott: to MacEagh's vengeful spirit.--"That I should die by your hand,
red as it is with the blood of my kindred," said he, answering
the threat of Allan in a tone as menacing as his own, "is not
more likely than that you should fall by mine." With that, he
struck at M'Aulay with such unexpected readiness, that he had
scarce time to intercept the blow with his target.
"Villain!" said Allan, in astonishment, "what means this?"
"I am Ranald of the Mist!" answered the Islesman, repeating the
blow; and with that word, they engaged in close and furious
conflict. It seemed to be decreed, that in Allan M'Aulay had
arisen the avenger of his mother's wrongs upon this wild tribe,
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Seraphita by Honore de Balzac: flower, scarce budded, which longs for wings, or the cry of the eider
grieving that it can only fly, and remember the desires of man who,
issuing from all, is none the less ever longing. But that, Wilfrid, is
only a woman's thought. You find seductive fancies in the wreathing
mists, the light embroidered veils which Nature dons like a coy
maiden, in this atmosphere where she perfumes for her spousals the
greenery of her tresses. You seek the naiad's form amid the gauzy
vapors, and to your thinking my ears should listen only to the virile
voice of the Torrent."
"But Love is there, like the bee in the calyx of the flower," replied
Wilfrid, perceiving for the first time a trace of earthly sentiment in
 Seraphita |