The capital secret of his profession, namely, to convert life into truth, he had not learned. Not a line did he draw out of real history. Then all things go into decay. Genius leaves the temple to haunt the senate or the market. Literature becomes frivolous.
Science is cold.
The remedy is already declared in the ground of our complaint of the Church. We have contrasted the Church with the Soul. All men go in flocks to this saint or that poet, avoiding the God who seeth in secret. Imitation cannot go above its model. And now let us do what we can to rekindle the smouldering, nigh-quenched fire on the altar.