over again. And, in order to understand every thing from the
beginning, you must look through microscopes at the movements of
amoebae, and cells in worms, or, with still greater composure,
believe in every thing that men with a diploma of infallibility
shall say to you about them. And as you gaze at the movements of
these cells, or read about what others have seen, you must attribute
to these cells your own human sensations and calculations as to what
they desire, whither they are directing themselves, how they compare
and discuss, and to what they have become accustomed; and from these
observations (in which there is not a word about an error of thought
or of expression) you must deduce a conclusion by analogy as to what
you are, what is your destiny, wherein lies the welfare of yourself
and of other cells like you. In order to understand yourself, you
must study not only the worms which you see, but microscopic
creatures which you can barely see, and transformations from one set
of creatures into others, which no one has ever beheld, and which
you, most assuredly, will never behold. And the same with art.
Where there has been true science, art has always been its exponent.

Ever since men have been in existence, they have been in the habit
of deducing, from all pursuits, the expressions of various branches
of learning concerning the destiny and the welfare of man, and the
expression of this knowledge has been art in the strict sense of the
word.

Ever since men have existed, there have been those who were
peculiarly sensitive and responsive to the doctrine regarding the
destiny and welfare of man; who have given expression to their own
and the popular conflict, to the delusions which lead them astray
from their destinies, their sufferings in this conflict, their hopes