All Human Souls, Never So Bedarkened, Love

We Are To Remember What An Umpire Nature Is; What A Greatness, Composure Of Depth And Tolerance There Is In Her. You Take Wheat To Cast Into The Earth's Bosom; Your Wheat May Be Mixed With Chaff, Chopped Straw, Barn-sweepings, Dust And All Imaginable Rubbish; No Matter: You Cast It Into The Kind Just Earth; She Grows The Wheat, - The Whole Rubbish She Silently Absorbs, Shrouds It In, Says Nothing Of The Rubbish.

There Is Precious Instruction To Be Got By Finding We Were Wrong.

Without Oblivion, There Is No Remembrance Possible. When Both Oblivion And Memory Are Wise, When The General Soul Of Man Is Clear, Melodious, True, There May Come A Modern Iliad As Memorial Of The Past.

Philosophy Dwells Aloft In The Temple Of Science, The Divinity Of Its Inmost Shrine; Her Dictates Descend Among Men, But She Herself Descends Not : Whoso Would Behold Her Must Climb With Long And Laborious Effort, Nay, Still Linger In The Forecourt, Till Manifold Trial Have Proved Him Worthy Of Admission Into The Interior Solemnities.

Before Philosophy Can Teach By Experience, The Philosophy Has To Be In Readiness, The Experience Must Be Gathered And Intelligibly Recorded.