When A Man Is Out Of Sight,

One Sees Qualities At A Distance And Defects At Close Range.

Nothing Discernible To The Eye Of The Spirit Is More Brilliant Or Obscure Than Man; Nothing Is More Formidable, Complex, Mysterious, And Infinite. There Is A Prospect Greater Than The Sea, And It Is The Sky; There Is A Prospect Greater Than The Sky, And It Is The Human Soul.

Nothing Can Be More Depressing Than To Expose, Naked To The Light Of Thought, The Hideous Growth Of Argot. Indeed It Is Like A Sort Of Repellent Animal Intended To Dwell In Darkness Which Has Been Dragged Out Of Its Cloaca. One Seems To See A Horned And Living Creature Viciously Struggling To Be Restored To The Place Where It Belongs. One Word Is Like A Claw, Another Like A Sightless And Bleeding Eye; And There Are Phrases Which Clutch Like The Pincers Of A Crab. And All Of It Is Alive With The Hideous Vitality Of Things That Have Organized Themselves Amid Disorganization.

The Mountains, The Forest, And The Sea, Render Men Savage; They Develop The Fierce, But Yet Do Not Destroy The Human.

Is It Not When The Fall Is The Lowest That Charity Ought To Be The Greatest?