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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.— SUPPLEMENT. 



be drawn from it is only, after all, a part of some- 

 thing larger. So sings one whom great poets 

 revere as a poet, but to whom writers of excel- 

 lent prose, and even of leading articles, refuse 

 the name : 



" I open my scuttle at night and see the far-sprin- 

 kled systems, 



" And all I see, multiplied as high as I can cipher, 

 edge but the rim of the farther systems. 



" Wider and wider they spread, expanding, always 

 expanding, 



'• Outward and outward, and forever outward. 



" There is no stoppage, and never can be stoppage ; 



" If I, you, and the worlds, and all beneath or upon 

 their surfaces, were this moment reduced back to a 

 pallid float, it would not avail in the long-run; 



" We should surely bring up again where we now 

 stand, 



" And as surely go as much farther— and then 

 farther and farther. 



" A few quadrillions of eras, a few octillions of 

 cubic leagues, do not hazard the span, or make it im- 

 patient; 



" They are but parts— anything is but a part. 



" See ever so far, there is limitless space outside 

 of that ; 



" Count ever so much, there is limitless time 

 around that." : 



"Whatever conception, then, we can form of the 

 external cosmos must be regarded as only provi- 

 sional and not final, as waiting revision when we 

 shall have pushed the bounds of our knowledge 

 farther away in time and space. It must always, 

 therefore, have a character of incompleteness 

 about it, a want, a stretching out for something 

 better to come, the expectation of a further les- 

 son from the universal teacher, Experience. And 

 this not only by way of extension of space and 

 time, but by increase of our knowledge even 

 about this part that we know of. Our concep- 

 tion of the universe is for us, and not for our 

 children, any more than it was for our fathers. 



But, again, this incompleteness does not be- 

 long to our conception of the external cosmos 

 alone, but to that of the internal cosmos also. 

 Human nature is fluent, it is constantly, though 

 slowly, changing, and the universe of human ac- 

 tion is changing also. Whatever general concep- 

 tion we may form of good actions and bad ones, 

 we must regard it as quite valid only for our- 

 selves ; the next generation will have a slightly 

 modified form of it, but not the same thing. The 

 Kantian universality is no longer possible. No 

 maxim can be valid at all times and places for 

 all rational beings ; a maxim valid for us can 

 only be valid for such portions of the human race 

 as are practically identical with ourselves. 

 1 Whitman, "Leaves of Grass." 



Here, then, we have two limitations to keep 

 in mind when we form our cosmic conceptions. 

 On both sides they are provisional : instead of 

 picturing to ourselves a universe, we represent 

 only a changing part ; instead of contemplating 

 an eternal order, an absolute right, we find only 

 a changing property of a shifting organism. 



Are we, then, to be disappointed ? I think 

 not ; for, if we consider these limitations a little 

 more closely, we shall perceive an advantage in 

 each of them. 



First, of the external cosmos. Our concep- 

 tion is limited to a part of things. But to what 

 part ? Why, precisely to the part that concerns 

 us. The universe we have to consider is the 

 whole of that knowledge which can rightly in- 

 fluence human action. For, wherever there is 

 a question of guiding human action, there is a 

 possibility of profiting by experience on the as- 

 sumption that Nature is uniform ; that is, there 

 is room for the application of science. All 

 practical questions, therefore, are within the 

 domain of science. And we may show converse- 

 ly that all questions in the domain of science, 

 all questions, that is, which have a real intelligi- 

 ble meaning, and which may be answered either 

 now or at some future time by inferences founded 

 on the uniformity of Nature, are practical ques- 

 tions in a very real and important sense. For 

 the interrogation of Nature, without and within 

 him, is a most momentous part of the work of 

 man on this earth, seeing how all his progress 

 has depended upon conscious or unconscious la- 

 bor at this task. And, although the end of all 

 knowledge is action, and it is only for the sake 

 of action that knowledge is sought by the hu- 

 man race, yet, in order that it may be gained in 

 sufficient breadth and depth, it is necessary that 

 the individual should seek knowledge for its own 

 sake. The seeking of knowledge for its own 

 sake is a practical pursuit of incalculable value 

 to humanity. The pretensions of those who 

 would presume to clothe genius in a strait-waist- 

 coat, who would forbid it to attempt this task 

 because Descartes failed in it, and that one be- 

 cause Comte knew nothing about it, would be 

 fatally mischievous if they could be seriously 

 considered by those whom they might affect. 

 No good work in science has ever been done un- 

 der such conditions ; and no good worker can 

 fail to see the utter futility and short-sightedness 

 of those who advocate them. For there is no 

 field of inquiry, however apparently insignificant, 

 that does not teach the worker in it to distrust 

 his own powers of prevision as to what he is 



