Bells, The Poor Man's Only Music.

How Strange And Awful Is The Synthesis Of Life And Death In The Gusty Winds And Falling Leaves Of An Autumnal Day!

In What Way, Or By What Manner Of Working, God Changes A Soul From Evil To Good, How He Impregnates The Barren Rock--the Priceless Gems And Gold--is To The Human Mind An Impenetrable Mystery, In All Cases Alike.

Imagination That Compares And Contrasts With What Is Around As Well As What Is Better And Worse Is The Living Power And Prime Agent Of All Human Perception Judgement And Emotional Reaction.

What! Did Sir W[alter] R[aleigh] Believe That A Male And Female Ounce (and, If So, Why Not Two Tigers And Lions, Etc?) Would Have Produced, In A Course Of Generations, A Cat, Or A Cat A Lion? This Is Darwinizing With A Vengeance.

Nothing Is As Contagious As Enthusiasm. It Is The Real Allegory Of The Myth Of Orpheus; It Moves Stones, And Charms Brutes. It Is The Genius Of Sincerity, And Truth Accomplishes No Victories Without It.