108 PROCEEDINGS OF SECTION A. 
ce ) 
themselves about the “ existence’’ of the ether is quite un- 
necessary, and the efforts to prove its existence by the con- 
struction of models are absurd. Such models may be useful 
in helping us to clear ideas as to what our hypotheses mean ; 
but they cannot prove the existence of anything. 
(4) Fourthly, it is well for us to know our limitations. 
‘““ Mathematics,” says O. W. Holmes, “ breeds a despotic way 
of thinking,” and it would be much better for everyone if 
we stripped off from science “its panoply of pride.’’ | Our 
province is to investigate phenomena, and group them to- 
gether by the aid of colligating principles. Beyond this we 
do not go, and we really explain nothing. We have de 
liberately clipped our wings to strengthen our legs, and any 
attempt at flight is likely to prove as ineffective as it 1s 
ungainly. Science can never solve the riddle of existence, 
or reach any hidden reality behind phenomena. Its “ laws”’ 
are mere hypotheses, its categories of forces, atoms, ether, 
and the like but artificial machinery to help us to know the 
world. To use these mental concepts to explain conscious- 
ness is to move in a childish circle, and to employ them as 
premises for religious or irreligious conclusions is equally 
absurd. (5) Lastly, a clear understanding of the scope 
and method of our science should free us from one-sidedness, 
and bring us into sympathy with workers in other fields. 
The method of the philosopher and the artist is not, after all, 
so very different from that of the scientist. The aim of the 
artist is to bring to light ‘‘the simple concealing itself in 
the manifold;” and the philosopher spends his life in the 
search for wider principles that will bind together the laws 
of all the sciences. The sneers of some men of science at 
those pursuing different paths from theirs are simply 
childish, and the chief sufferer in the isolation of science 
from art and philosophy is the scientist. | We should recog- 
nise all thinkers as members of a great brotherhood. All 
are toiling up the mountain of truth, and we need not be 
surprised if those who try to scale the high peaks of philo 
sophy advance more slowly than the travellers over the lower 
ridges of science. And we that are lower down should be 
moved by the difficulties we have encountered to look with 
every sympathy to the toilers above. If we ever get as 
high, we may fare no better; and, like all worshippers in 
the temple of Isis, we may well be awed into humility by 
the inscription over the portal—“ I am all that is, and that 
was, and that shall be, and no mortal hath lifted my veil ’ 
