“This spiritual love acts not nor exists Without imagination, which, in truth, Is but another name for absolute power And clearest insight, amplitude of mind, And reason in her most exalted mood.” It may be said, perhaps, This philosophy is all well enough for those who have in childhood known such ideal experiences in the presence of Nature. But these are the few; most men know nothing of them. Be it so. But to these, too, this philosophy has a word to speak. If the many have been insensible to Nature, most surely they have known the first home affections, to father and mother, to brother and sister. In early youth they have felt the warm glow of friendship, and later in life the first domestic affections may have revived more deeply when manhood has made for itself a second home. Of these emotions time must needs make many of them past experiences. Are they then to be no more than fond memories without influence on our present selves? Wordsworth teaches, and all wise men agree with him, that if we allow these to pass from us, as sunbeams from a hill-side, the character is lowered and worsened; if they are retained in thought and melted into our being, they become the most fruitful sources of ennobled character. The firm purpose not to “Break faith with those whom he has laid In earth’s dark chambers,” —to how many a man has this become the chief incentive to perseverance in high endeavor! This is a philosophy which will wear. It suits not only the visionary in his solitude, but is fitted as well for the counting-house and the market-place. Again, it may be said, This way of looking at Nature and life may suit a man in the heyday of life, when his nerves are strong, his hopes high, and all things wear their summer mood. In such a time he may well sing “Naught shall prevail against us or disturb Our cheerful faith that all which we behold Is full of blessings.”