To Be An Error And To Be

It Is The Greatest Of Crimes To Depress True Art And Science.

Then Cherish Pity, Lest You Drive An Angel From Your Door.

Commerce Is So Far From Being Beneficial To Arts, Or To Empire, That It Is Destructive Of Both, As All Their History Shows, For The Above Reason Of Individual Merit Being Its Great Hatred. Empires Flourish Till They Become Commercial, And Then They Are Scattered Abroad To The Four Winds.

Imagination Is The Real And Eternal World Of Which This Vegetable Universe Is But A Faint Shadow.

I Turn My Eyes To The Schools & Universities Of Europe And There Behold The Loom Of Locke Whose Woof Rages Dire, Washed By The Water-wheels Of Newton. Black The Cloth In Heavy Wreaths Folds Over Every Nation; Cruel Works Of Many Wheels I View, Wheel Without Wheel, With Cogs Tyrannic Moving By Compulsion Each Other: Not As Those In Eden, Which Wheel Within Wheel In Freedom Revolve, In Harmony & Peace.