30 July 1838 – 5 August 1838

Whatever of past or present wisdom has published itself to the world, is palpable falsehood till it come and utter itself by my side.

Some sounds seem to reverberate along the plain, and then settle to earth again like dust; such are Noise, Discord, Jargon. But such only as spring heavenward, and I may catch from steeples and hilltops in their upward course, which are the more refined parts of the former, are the true sphere music,—pure, unmixed music,—in which no wail mingles.