display an ignorance truly bovine.

An exclusive specialist of this kind stands on a par with a workman in
a factory, whose whole life is spent in making one particular kind of
screw, or catch, or handle, for some particular instrument or machine,
in which, indeed, he attains incredible dexterity. The specialist may
also be likened to a man who lives in his own house and never leaves
it. There he is perfectly familiar with everything, every little step,
corner, or board; much as Quasimodo in Victor Hugo's _Nôtre Dame_
knows the cathedral; but outside it, all is strange and unknown.

For true culture in the humanities it is absolutely necessary that
a man should be many-sided and take large views; and for a man of
learning in the higher sense of the word, an extensive acquaintance
with history is needful. He, however, who wishes to be a complete
philosopher, must gather into his head the remotest ends of human
knowledge: for where else could they ever come together?

It is precisely minds of the first order that will never be
specialists. For their very nature is to make the whole of existence
their problem; and this is a subject upon which they will every one of
them in some form provide mankind with a new revelation. For he alone
can deserve the name of genius who takes the All, the Essential, the
Universal, for the theme of his achievements; not he who spends his
life in explaining some special relation of things one to another.




ON THINKING FOR ONESELF.