I dare to trust to the interpreting spirit to bring me out all right at last,--establish truth through error.
Whether this be the best way is of no consequence, if it be the one individual character points out.
For one, like me, it would be vain From glittering heights the eyes to strain; I the truth can only know, Tested by life's most fiery glow.
Seeds of thought will never thrive, Till dews of love shall bid them live.
Let me stand in my age with all its waters flowing round me.

If they sometimes subdue, they must finally upbear me, for I seek the universal,--and that must be the best.
The Spirit, no doubt, leads in every movement of my time: if I seek the How, I shall find it, as well as if I busied myself more with the Why.
Whatever is, is right, if only men are steadily bent to make it so, by comprehending and fulfilling its design.
May not I have an office, too, in my hospitality and ready sympathy?
If I sometimes entertain guests who cannot pay with gold coin, with "fair rose nobles," that is better than to lose the chance of entertaining angels unawares.
You, my three friends, are held, in heart-honor, by me.

You, especially, Good Sense, because where you do not go yourself, you do not object to another's going, if he will.

You are really liberal.
You, Old Church, are of use, by keeping unforgot the effigies of old religion, and reviving the tone of pure Spenserian sentiment, which this time is apt to stifle in its childish haste.

But you are very faulty in censuring and wishing to limit others by your own standard.