A Man Becomes Creative, Whether He Is

Man Is Not The Most Majestic Of The Creatures; Long Before The Mammals Even, The Dinosaurs Were Far More Splendid. But He Has What No Other Animal Possesses: A Jigsaw Of Faculties, Which Alone, Over Three Thousand Million Years Of Life, Made Him Creative. Every Animal Leaves Traces Of What He Was. Man Alone Leaves Traces Of What He Created.

By The Worldly Standards Of Public Life, All Scholars In Their Work Are Of Course Oddly Virtuous. They Do Not Make Wild Claims, They Do Not Cheat, They Do Not Try To Persuade At Any Cost, They Appeal Neither To Prejudice Nor To Authority, They Are Often Frank About Their Ignorance, Their Disputes Are Fairly Decorous, They Do Not Confuse What Is Being Argued With Race, Politics, Sex Or Age, They Listen Patiently To The Young And To The Old Who Both Know Everything. These Are The General Virtues Of Scholarship, And They Are Peculiarly The Virtues Of Science.

The World Can Only Be Grasped By Action, Not By Contemplation.

Who Has Not Hoped To Outrage An Enemy's Dignity? Who Has Not Been Swept By The Wish To Hurt? And Who Has Not Thought That The Impersonal World Deserves No Better Than To Be Destroyed By One Fabulous Sign Of His Displeasure?

Man Masters Nature Not By Force But By Understanding. This Is Why Science Has Succeeded Where Magic Failed: Because It Has Looked For No Spell To Cast Over Nature.