The fact that Spencer was very little read was for some time a source of surprise to Martin.  “Herbert Spencer,” said the man at the desk in the library, “oh, yes, a great mind.”  But the man did not seem to know anything of the content of that great mind.  One evening, at dinner, when Mr. Butler was there, Martin turned the conversation upon Spencer.  Mr. Morse bitterly arraigned the English philosopher’s agnosticism, but confessed that he had not read “First Principles”; while Mr. Butler stated that he had no patience with Spencer, had never read a line of him, and had managed to get along quite well without him.  Doubts arose in Martin’s mind, and had he been less strongly individual he would have accepted the general opinion and given Herbert Spencer up.  As it was, he found Spencer’s explanation of things convincing; and, as he phrased it to himself, to give up Spencer would be equivalent to a navigator throwing the compass and chronometer overboard.  So Martin went on into a thorough study of evolution, mastering more and more the subject himself, and being convinced by the corroborative testimony of a thousand independent writers.  The more he studied, the more vistas he caught of fields of knowledge yet unexplored, and the regret that days were only twenty-four hours long became a chronic complaint with him.

One day, because the days were so short, he decided to give up algebra and geometry.  Trigonometry he had not even attempted.  Then he cut chemistry from his study-list, retaining only physics.

“I am not a specialist,” he said, in defence, to Ruth.  “Nor am I going to try to be a specialist.  There are too many special fields for any one man, in a whole lifetime, to master a tithe of them.  I must pursue general knowledge.  When I need the work of specialists, I shall refer to their books.”

“But that is not like having the knowledge yourself,” she protested.

“But it is unnecessary to have it.  We profit from the work of the specialists.  That’s what they are for.  When I came in, I noticed the chimney-sweeps at work.  They’re specialists, and when they get done, you will enjoy clean chimneys without knowing anything about the construction of chimneys.”

“That’s far-fetched, I am afraid.”

She looked at him curiously, and he felt a reproach in her gaze and manner.  But he was convinced of the rightness of his position.

“All thinkers on general subjects, the greatest minds in the world, in fact, rely on the specialists.  Herbert Spencer did that.  He generalized upon the findings of thousands of investigators.  He would have had to live a thousand lives in order to do it all himself.  And so with Darwin.  He took advantage of all that had been learned by the florists and cattle-breeders.”

“You’re right, Martin,” Olney said.  “You know what you’re after, and Ruth doesn’t.  She doesn’t know what she is after for herself even.”