The Pursuit Of Perfection, Then,

The Study Of Letters Is The Study Of The Operation Of Human Force, Of Human Freedom And Activity; The Study Of Nature Is The Study Of The Operation Of Non-human Forces, Of Human Limitation And Passivity. The Contemplation Of Human Force And Activity Tends Naturally To Heighten Our Own Force And Activity; The Contemplation Of Human Limits And Passivity Tends Rather To Check It. Therefore The Men Who Have Had The Humanistic Training Have Played, And Yet Play, So Prominent A Part In Human Affairs, In Spite Of Their Prodigious Ignorance Of The Universe.

For Poetry The Idea Is Everything; The Rest Is A World Of Illusion, Of Divine Illusion. Poetry Attaches Its Emotion To The Idea; The Idea Is The Fact. The Strongest Part Of Our Religion Today Is Its Unconscious Poetry.

Still Bent To Make Some Port He Knows Not Where, Still Standing For Some False Impossible Shore.

The Will Is Free; Strong Is The Soul, And Wise, And Beautiful; The Seeds Of Godlike Power Are In Us Still; Gods Are We, Bards, Saints, Heroes, If We Will!

One Has Often Wondered Whether Upon The Whole Earth There Is Anything So Unintelligent, So Unapt To Perceive How The World Is Really Going, As An Ordinary Young Englishman Of Our Upper Class.