"
'And he, the philosopher, who does not tie down his
speculation to the banner of the day, but lets the wings
of his thought upbear him where they will, as if they were
stronger and surer than the balloon let off for the amusement
of the populace,--he must be "mad." Off with him to the moon!
that paradise of noble fools, who had visions of possibilities
too grand and lovely for this sober earth.
'And ye, friends, and lovers, who see, through all the films
of human nature, in those you love, a divine energy, worthy of
creatures who have their being in very God, ye, too, are "mad"
to think they can walk in the dust, and yet shake it from
their feet when they come upon the green. These are no winged
Mercuries, no silver-sandalled Madonnas. Listen to "the
world's" truth and soberness, and we will show you that your
heart would be as well placed in a hospital, as in these
air-born palaces.
'And thou, priest, seek thy God among the people, and not in
the shrine. The light need not penetrate thine own soul.
Thou canst catch the true inspiration from the eyes of thy
auditors.
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