er love of the heart consumed the
lower love of the body, just as the sun melts manacles of ice from a
man's wrist.

History is full of these transformations wrought by the heart. It was
a new enthusiasm that changed Augustine the epicurean into Augustine
the church father. It was a new enthusiasm that turned Howard the
pleasure-lover into Howard the prison-reformer. It was a glowing heart
that lent power to Mazzini and Garibaldi and gave Italy her new hope
and liberty. Indeed, the history of each life is the history of its
new loves. The enthusiasms are beacon lights that glow in the highway
along which the soul journeys forward. When the hero's ships were
becalmed Virgil tells us that Aeolus struck the hollow mountain with
his staff and straightway, released from their caves, the winds went
forth to stir the waves and smite upon the sails and sweep the becalmed
ship on toward its harbor. Oh, beautiful story, telling us how Christ
touches the heart with his regenerating hand to release the soul's
deeper convictions, to sweep man forward to the heavenly haven!

If sentiment working in sound can make music; if working in colors,
etc., it can fill galleries with statues and pictures; if sentiment
working in literature can produce poems, it should not seem strange
that the heart, with its affections, furnishes the key of knowledge and
wisdom. The time was when authors were supposed to think out their
truths; now we know that the greatest truths are felt out. Matthew
Arnold said that mere knowledge is cold as an icicle, but once
experienced and touched with noble feelings truth becomes sweetness and
light. This author thought that the first requisite for a good writer
was a sensitive and sympathetic heart.

Even in Shakespeare the springs of genius were not in the mind. The
heart of our greatest poet was so sensitive that he could not see an
apple blossom without hoping that no untimely frost would nip it; could
not see the clusters turn purple under the autumn sun without hoping
that hailstones would not pound off the rich clusters; could not see a
youth leave his home to seek his fortune without praying that he would
return to his mother laden with rich treasures; could not see a bride
go down the aisle of the church without sending up a petition that many
years might intervene before death's hand should touch her white brow.
Sympathy in the heart so fed the springs of thought in the mind that it
was easy fo