204 Science and the Sense of Beauty . [April 
to animalism in our thoughts. We shall feel lowered to- 
wards the brutes from which it is said we are sprung, and 
we shall seek to justify a sensuous existence. Young ana- 
tomists often suffer from a morbid view of life engendered by 
their studies. They lose their old reverence for the human 
body, and the delicate charm of life is marred by the ghastly 
sights of the dissedting-room. So, in these present days, 
many a susceptible youth is haunted by the spedtre of proto- 
plasm. Even the beauty of human beings is not strong 
enough to purify his tainted imagination, for it, too, is only 
a painted protoplasm in his jaundiced sight. 
Our free and healthy sense of the beauty of Nature is un- 
doubtedly to some degree sapped by the close study of 
Science. “ Here’s confusion to Newton,” was the toast of 
the poet Keats one evening, in company with Haydon and 
Wordsworth, “ because he has taken away the poetry of the 
rainbow.” Newton decomposed the sunbeam into its primi- 
tive colours, and led to the explanation by Descartes of the 
rainbow. The loveliest thing on earth, the bow of promise 
round which beautiful legends had clustered from immemo- 
rial time, was degraded to a mechanical contrivance. A 
severe shock was from that moment given to our apprecia- 
tion of its beauty. But such has since been the fate of 
many beautiful things that once lived entirely in the imagina- 
tion. Science takes us behind the scenes, which the poet 
and artist only sit in front of and admire. The enquiring 
spirit is not content passively to look on, but must investi- 
gate the stage machinery. And when we find that we can 
turn the knowledge we thus gain to a beneficial use, such 
enquiry becomes a duty and a passion. We are fated to 
know the causes and processes of things, as well as to enjoy 
their effect upon our sensibilities. But there is no good 
reason why knowledge should war with sentiment, if the 
true function of each is borne in mind and kept in its proper 
place. 
The chief reason why scientific knowledge conflicts with 
sentiment, and curtails imagination, is that it induces a 
scientific habit of thought instead of a passive yielding 
to the enjoyment of beauty and the pleasant reveries it 
would inspire. Our scientific curiosity is excited, and we 
find ourselves trying to explain the physical causes of the 
effedt of the impression produced on us. We are like the 
geologist who was insensible to the beauty of the Apollo 
Belvedere, because he was examining the texture of the 
marble. We cannot enjoy to the full the beauty of the rose 
for thinking of its cellular tissue, and the tender hues of 
