The God Of The Puritans...was

How Readily The Bluebirds Become Our Friends And Neighbors When We Offer Them Suitable Nesting Retreats!

What A Severe Yet Master Artist Old Winter Is... No Longer The Canvas And The Pigments, But The Marble And The Chisel.

We Have Produced Some Good Walkers And Saunterers, And Some Noted Climbers; But As A Staple Recreation, As A Daily Practice, The Mass Of The People Dislike And Despise Walking.

To The Scientist Nature Is A Storehouse Of Facts, Laws, Processes; To The Artist She Is A Storehouse Of Pictures; To The Poet She Is A Storehouse Of Images, Fancies, A Source Of Inspiration; To The Moralist She Is A Storehouse Of Precepts And Parables; To All She May Be A Source Of Knowledge And Joy.

It Is Reported Of Margaret Fuller That She Said She Accepted The Universe. "gad, She'd Better!" Retorted Carlyle. Carlyle Himself Did Not Accept The Universe In A Very Whole-hearted Manner. Looking Up At The Midnight Stars, He Exclaimed: "a Sad Spectacle! If They Be Inhabited, What A Scope For Misery And Folly; If They Be Not Inhabited, What A Waste Of Space!"