18 HAECKEL 



and the pen; in Michael Angelo and Kaphael it 



guides the pencil and the brush. 



All this unfolds in Goethe, as in a visio 

 yet half-opened eyes. 



Then the nineteenth century begins. Nature 11 

 its salvation, the salvation of its most practical, 

 most real need. It must struggle for its existence 

 like any other century, but it has new and 

 improved weapons for the struggle. All 

 earlier ages were but poor blunderers, 

 lightning flashed on the naked savage, and 

 fell on his knees and prayed, powerless as he was. 

 In the eighteenth century it dawned on mei 

 minds that this might be some force of nature. 

 The nineteenth century sets its foot on the nee 

 of the demon of this force, presses him into i 

 service, plays with him. Its thoughts and words 

 flash along the lightning current, as if along nev 

 nerve-tracks, that begin to circle the globe. Man 

 becomes lord of the earth, from the uppermos 

 azure down into the dark, cold abysses of th< 

 ocean, from the icy pole to the burning tropical 

 desert. And at length man turns his thoughl 



upon himself. 



Man, his arm resting on the splendid mstrr 

 ments of modern research, raises his hand to his 

 brow, and turns philosopher. He becomes at on< 

 more bold and more modest than ever. 



What Goethe had seen in vision rises befor 

 him now in sharp, almost hard outline from hn 

 own real life-work. He has succeeded in bnngir 

 nature and its forces to his feet, because it wa 



