Why Art Thou But A Nest Of

How Is It The Great Pieces Of Good Luck Fall To Us?

Out Of The Fragrant Heart Of Bloom, The Bobolinks Are Singing; Out Of The Fragrant Heart Of Bloom The Apple-tree Whispers To The Room, "why Art Thou But A Nest Of Gloom While The Bobolinks Are Singing?

N Artistic Atmosphere Does Not Create Artists A Literary Atmosphere Does Not Create Literators; Poets And Painters Spring Up Where There Was Never A Verse Made Or A Picture Seen. This Suggests That God Is No More Idle Now Than He Was At The Beginning, But That He Is Still And Forever Shaping The Human Chaos Into The Instruments And Means Of Beauty.

We Are Creatures Of The Moment; We Live From One Little Space To Another, And Only One Interest At A Time Fills These.

Christ And The Life Of Christ Is At This Moment Inspiring The Literature Of The World As Never Before, And Raising It Up A Witness Against Waste And Want And War. It May Confess Him, As In Tolstoi's Work It Does, Or It May Deny Him, But It Cannot Exclude Him; And In The Degree That It Ignores His Spirit, Modern Literature Is Artistically Inferior. In Other Words, All Good Literature Is Now Christmas Literature.