lie in
selecting out of vast material, what is fit, fine, applicable--I
have the great Francis Bacon himself towering behind my shoulder
for patron.

Some would push the argument further than--here and now, at any
rate--I choose to do, or perhaps would at all care to do. For
example, Philip Gilbert Hamerton, whom I quoted to you three
weeks ago, instances in his book "The Intellectual Life" an
accomplished French cook who, in discussing his art, comprised
the whole secret of it under two heads--the knowledge of the
mutual influences of ingredients, and the judicious management of
heat:

Amongst the dishes for which my friend had a deserved
reputation was a certain _gateau de foie_ which had a very
exquisite flavour. The principal ingredient, not in quantity
but in power, was the liver of a fowl; but there were several
other ingredients also, and amongst these a leaf or two of
parsley. He told me that the influence of the parsley was a
good illustration of his theory about his art. If the parsley
were omitted, the flavour he aimed at was not produced at all;
but, on the other hand, if the quantity of the parsley was in
the least excessive, then the _gateau_ instead of being a
delicacy for gourmets became an uneatable mess. Perceiving that
I was really interested in the subject, he kindly promised a
practical evidence of his doctrine, and the next day
intentionally spoiled the dish by a trifling addition of
parsley. He had not exaggerated the consequences; the delicate
flavour entirely departed, and left a nauseous bitterness in
its place, like the remembrance of an ill-spent youth.

I trust that none of you are in a position to appreciate the full
force of this last simile; and, for myself, I should have taken
the chef's word for it, without experiment. Mr Hamerton proceeds
to draw his moral:

There is a sort of intellectual chemistry which is quite as
marvellous as material chemistry and a thousand times more
difficult to observe. One general truth may, however, be
relied upon.... It is true that everything we learn affects the
_whole_ character of the mind.

Consider how incalculably important becomes the
question of _proportion_ in our knowledge, and how that which
we are is dependent as much upon our ignorance as our
science. What we call ignorance is only a smaller proportion--
what we call science only a larger.

Here the argument begins to become d