62 THE LIFE OF SCIENCE 



majority of people is concerned, it is almost secret. Yet it is the 

 development of the activities which are most specifically human, 

 the development of all that is best in humanity: I mean the de- 

 velopment of art, of science, of justice, of moral and religious 

 ideals; in short, the creation and evolution of spiritual values. 

 These values are created by individuals; in most cases isolated 

 individuals. Caesar and Napoleon cannot accomplish their destiny 

 without the collaboration of millions; Spinoza, Newton, Pasteur 

 do accomplish their own in seclusion. They thrive best in solitude. 

 The elaboration of their sacred task — the very fulfillment of 

 human destiny — is to a large degree independent of circumstances. 

 At least, external circumstances seem purely accidental, not really 

 creative. Society can poison Socrates, crucify Jesus or behead 

 Lavoisier; it cannot cause them to be born, it cannot dictate 

 their task. 



It is a very great pleasure to reveal to young students this 

 second but essential aspect of human history — the course of 

 human progress — for they know generally but little of it, and 

 what they know has been obscured by the large mass of irrelevant 

 and indifferent facts. They see kings enthroned, peoples in arms; 

 they hear the clash of armies or of mobs; they may even hear the 

 impassioned orations of statesmen or rebels. But how could they 

 see the poor philosopher working in his miserable quarters; the 

 artist wrung under the load of his inspiration; the scientist pursu- 

 ing silently, obstinately, his self-imposed quest? It requires more 

 wisdom and imagination than they can possibly have to see these 

 things. They may know pretty well the historical background. It 

 is the inestimable privilege of the historian of science to place in 

 front of it these inconspicuous but central figures. 



Who cares to know the great business men and the financiers 

 of Greece or Rome or of the Renaissance? Their very names are 

 forgotten. The very few of them who escaped oblivion did so 

 only because they patronized the disinterested activity of schol- 

 ars, artists and scientists. Yet in spite of the high regard which 



