not merely a part of life. Then those _virtues_, such as
_humility_ and _patience_, which spring up in the man of science
within the limitations of the external aims he has fixed for himself,
may here enfold the entire soul. Then it will no longer be a question
of the "patience of the man of science," or the "humility of the man
of science," but of the virtues of man in all their plenitude.

That spiritual expansion of the man of science which is, as it were,
compressed into a tube, like rays of light passing through the
cylinders of the telescope, may here be diffused on the horizon like
the dazzling splendor of the sun. The so-called virtues are the
_necessary means, the methods of existence_ by which we attain to
truth; but the delight of the scientist in his work must vary in
proportion as this truth is manifested in a physical force, a
protozoan, or the soul of man. The one name seems scarcely suitable
for the two forms. We understand at once that, in comparison with the
_schoolmaster_, the scientist must be to some extent a limited and
arid being. The nobility of his spirit is lofty as man, but its
dimensions are those of a brute force or an inferior life.

The spiritual life of man may blend with the virtues of the man of
science only when the student and the subject of study can be fused
together. Then science may become a wellspring of wisdom, and true
positive science may become one with the true knowledge of the saints.
There is a real mechanism of correspondence between the virtues of the
man of science and the virtues of the saints; it is by means of
humility and patience that the scientist puts himself in contact with
material nature; and it is by means of humility and patience that the
saint puts himself in contact with the spiritual nature of things, and
as a consequence, mainly with man. The scientist is virtuous only
within the limits of his material contacts; the saint is "all
compact" of such virtue; his sacrifices and his enjoyments are alike
illimitable. The scientist is a seer within the limits of his field of
observation; the saint is a spiritual seer, but he also _sees_
material things and their laws more clearly than other men, and
invests them with spirit.

The modern scientist knows that every living thing is marvelous, and
that the simplest and most primitive most readily reveal natural laws
which help us to interpret the most complicated beings. St. Francis
indeed knew this: "Come closer