held together by a force which, if suddenly liberated,
would produce a flash of lightning? Think you
that what is carelessly looked upon by the uninitiated
as a mere snow-flake, does not suggest higher associations
to one who had seen through a microscope the wondrously-varied
and elegant forms of snow-crystals? Think you
that the rounded rock marked with parallel scratches,
calls up as much poetry in an ignorant mind as in
the mind of a geologist, who knows that over this rock
a glacier slid a million years ago? The truth
is, that those who have never entered upon scientific
pursuits are blind to most of the poetry by which they
are surrounded. Whoever has not in youth collected
plants and insects, knows not half the halo of interest
which lanes and hedge-rows can assume. Whoever
has not sought for fossils, has little idea of the
poetical associations that surround the places where
imbedded treasures were found. Whoever at the
sea-side has not had a microscope and aquarium, has
yet to learn what the highest pleasures of the sea-side
are. Sad, indeed, is it to see how men occupy
themselves with trivialities, and are indifferent
to the grandest phenomena—care not to understand
the architecture of the Heavens, but are deeply interested
in some contemptible controversy about the intrigues
of Mary Queen of Scots!—are learnedly critical
over a Greek ode, and pass by without a glance that
grand epic written by the finger of God upon the strata
of the Earth!
We find, then, that even for this remaining division
of human activities, scientific culture is the proper
preparation. We find that aesthetics in general
are necessarily based upon scientific principles;
and can be pursued with complete success only through
an acquaintance with these principles. We find
that for the criticism and due appreciation of works
of art, a knowledge of the constitution of things,
or in other words, a knowledge of science, is requisite.
And we not only find that science is the handmaid
to all forms of art and poetry, but that, rightly
regarded, science is itself poetic.
* * * *
*
Thus far our question has been, the worth of knowledge
of this or that kind for purposes of guidance.
We have now to judge the relative value of different
kinds of knowledge for purposes of discipline.
This division of our subject we are obliged to treat
with comparative brevity; and happily, no very lengthened
treatment of it is needed. Having found what
is best for the one end, we have by implication found
what is best for the other. We may be quite sure
that the acquirement of those classes of facts which
are most useful for regulating conduct, involves a
mental exercise best fitted for strengthening the faculties.
It would be utterly contrary to the beautiful economy
of Nature, if one kind of culture were needed for
the gaining of information and another kind were needed
as a mental gymnastic. Everywhere throughout creation