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it cannot keep any real liold of the wliole field of discovery even 

 in his own particular science, hut is compelled more and more 

 to devote himself to smaller departments even of that field, if 

 he wish to contribute anything of his own to the progress of dis- 

 covery. More than seventy years ago Wordsworth took a large 

 view at once of the greatness and smallness of science, and with 

 true poetic insight foresaw the very difiiculty alluded to by 

 Professor Huxley. Wordsworth thought that the only guarantee 

 against the danger was to be found iu poetry and religion. The 

 .narrowing effect of specialism of scientific pursuit is not to be 

 warded off by merely grasping fairly the general principles of 

 the science with which the student is connected. What is 

 necessary is that the student should "complement his narrow 

 analytic view of portions of the universe by a wider imaginative 

 grasp of it," Thus he shall come to see really the unity between 

 man and Nature — to know that the mind of man is the mirror 

 of the finest and most interesting properties of Nature, for poetry, 

 Wordsworth maintained, is " the breath and purer spirit of all 

 knowledge, the impassioned expression which is in the countenance 

 of all science." 



In advocating increased attention to literature I am not 

 undervaluing the claims of history. Poetry elucidates and ex- 

 plains history. In its stage of ideal perfection history (as 

 Macaulay puts it) is a compound of poetry and philosophy. 

 One portion of its function is to bring the distant near, to call up 

 our ancestors before us with their peculiarities of language, 

 manners, and garb. All this is almost as well fulfilled in poetry 

 as in many so-called histories. Has not history, like one or two 

 of the other muses, often been too much taken up with noise and 

 tumult ? Each age of literature is the truest picture of the 

 history of its day. Literature gives point and force to some of 

 the most suggestive lessons of history. (Lowell's Harvard Com- 

 memoration Ode, 1865. " Tis not the grapes of Canaan that 

 repay, but the high faith that failed not by the way." His words 

 respecting the youths who went to the war and returned not, may 

 be applied to our great poets : — 



" We find in our dull road their shining track ; 



In every nobler mood 

 We feel the orient of their spirit glow. 



Part of our life's unalterable good, 

 Of all our saintlier aspiration ; 



They come transfigured back. 

 Secure from change in their high-hearted ways.") 



It may be said that one prominent feature of literature is its 

 melancholy. Without admitting the truth of the charge it is 

 easy to give reasons why such a peculiarity might be expected to 

 belong to literature. Every man who has any clear vision of 



