Compare Paragraphs
This page compares two reports at the paragraph level. The column on the left shows the first report in its entirety, and the column in the middle identifies paragraphs from the second report with significant matching content. The column on the right highlights any differences between the two matching paragraphs: pink shows differences in the first report and purple in the second report. The Match percentage underneath each comparison row in this column shows the percentage of similarity between the two paragraphs.
Original paragraph in
Auckland Star - Saturday, June 8, 1895
Auckland Star - Saturday, June 8, 1895
Most similar paragraph from
The Evening Star - Saturday, June 8, 1895
The Evening Star - Saturday, June 8, 1895
Difference
London, April 26.
The apostle of culture, whose dicta on Art (don't forget the big A) have for nearly a quarter of a century been accepted unchallenged by
one of the largest sections of London society, stands to-day in the dock at the grimy, grisly and painfully prosaic Old Bailey. The historic fall of
Humpty Dumpty was a trifle to Oscar Wilde's, but the catastrophes are alike in one respect. Not all the Queen's horses nor all the Queen's men could set
this fallen prophet on his pedestal again. The jury may conceivably (though I don't think it likely) refuse to convict him on the evidence of such
creatures as Parker, Mavor, and Company; but the public have already tried and sentenced the man, and whether found innocent or guilty at the Central
Criminal Court, his doom is sealed. How he could live if acquitted, I can't imagine. Bankrupt in money and friends, and with his remarkable literary and
dramatic gifts rendered valueless and his notorious personality become a curse to him, where could he go–what asylum could he seek? The British public,
now passing through one of its occasional spasms of rigid puritanism, won't even read the accused man's art criticisms or be entertained by his innocent
plays. These were in the height of prosperous runs when Wilde was arrested, and (business having fallen to nothing) both were taken off.
The apostle of culture, whose dicta on Art (don't forget the big A) have for nearly a quarter of a century been accepted unchallenged
by one of the largest sections of London society, stands to day in the dock at the grimy, grisly, and painfully prosaic Old Bailey. The historic fall of
Humpty Dumpty was a trifle compared to Oscar Wilde's, but the catastrophes are alike in one respect. Not all the Queen's horses nor all the Queen's men
could set this fallen prophet on his pedestal again. The jury may conceivably (though I don't think it is likely) refuse to convict him on the evidence of
such unspeakable swine as Parker, Mavor, and Co; but the public have already tried and sentenced the man, and whether found innocent or guilty at the
Central Criminal Court his doom is sealed. How he could live if acquitted I can't imagine. Bankrupt in money and friends, and with his remarkable literary
and dramatic gifts rendered valueless and his notorious personality become a curse to him, where could he go, what asylum could he seek? The British
Public, now passing through one of its occasional spasms of rigid puritanism, won't even read the accused man's criticisms or be entertained by his
innocent plays. These were in the height of prosperous runs when Wilde was arrested and arraigned, and business having fallen to nothing, both were taken
off.