"To that cathedral, boundless as our wonder,
Whose quenchless lamps the sun and moon supply;
Its choir the winds and waves, its organ thunder,
Its dome the sky." [3]

Where the untrained eye will see nothing but mire and dirt, Science will
often reveal exquisite possibilities. The mud we tread under our feet in
the street is a grimy mixture of clay and sand, soot and water. Separate
the sand, however, as Ruskin observes--let the atoms arrange themselves in
peace according to their nature--and you have the opal. Separate the clay,
and it becomes a white earth, fit for the finest porcelain; or if it still
further purifies itself, you have a sapphire. Take the soot, and if
properly treated it will give you a diamond. While, lastly, the water,
purified and distilled, will become a dew-drop, or crystallize into a
lovely star. Or, again, you may see as you will in any shallow pool either
the mud lying at the bottom, or the image of the heavens above.

Nay, even if we imagine beauties and charms which do not really exist;
still if we err at all it is better to do so on the side of charity; like
Nasmyth, who tells us in his delightful autobiography, that he used to
think one of his friends had a charming and kindly twinkle, and was one
day surprised to discover that he had a glass eye.

But I should err indeed were I to dwell exclusively on science as lending
interest and charm to our leisure hours. Far from this, it would be
impossible to overrate the importance of scientific training on the wise
conduct of life.

"Science," said the Royal Commission of 1861, "quickens and cultivates