The motive of science was the extension of man, on all sides, into Nature, till his hands should touch the stars, his eyes see through the earth, his ears understand the language of beast and bird, and the sense of the wind; and, through his sympathy, heaven and earth should talk with him.

But that is not our science.

These geologies, chemistries, and astronomies, seem to make wise, but they leave us where they found us.

The invention is of use to the inventor but is questionable help to any other.

The formulas of science are like the papers in your pocketbook, of no value to any but the owner.

Science in England, in America, is jealous of theory and hates the name of love and moral purpose.

There’s revenge for this inhumanity.

What manner of man does science make?

The boy is not attracted.

He says I do not wish to be such a kind of man as my professor is.

The collector has dried all the plants in his herbal, but he has lost weight and humor.

He has got all snakes and lizards in his vials, but science has done for him also and has put the man into a bottle.

Our reliance on the physician is a kind of despair.

The clergy has bronchitis, which does not seem a certificate of spiritual health.

Macready thought it came from the falsetto of their voicing.

An Indian prince,

Tissue, one day riding in the forest, saw a herd of elk sporting. “See how happy,” he said, “these browsing elks are!

Why should not priests, lodged and fed comfortably in the temples, also amuse themselves?”

Returning home, he imparted this reflection to the king.

The king, on the next day, conferred the sovereignty on him, saying, “Prince, administer this empire for seven days: at the termination of that period, I shall put thee to death.”

At the end of the seventh day, the king inquired,

“From what cause hast thou become so emaciated?

He answered,

“From the horror of death.” The monarch rejoined:

“Live, my child, and be wise. Thou hast ceased to take recreation, saying to thyself, in seven days I shall be put to death.”

These priests in the temple incessantly meditate on death; how can they enter into healthful diversions?

” But the men of science or the doctors or the clergy are not victims of their pursuits, more than others.

The miller, the lawyer, and the merchant dedicate themselves to their details and do not come out as men of more force.

Have they divination, grand aims, the hospitality of soul, and the equality to any event, which we demand in man, or only the reactions of the mill, of the wares, of the chicane?

EDITOR: All the education in the world without application makes a ” blasted fool” my Father was always correct. Today as I look back I smile ๐Ÿ˜ you see I was a ” Seeker of Knowledge” all those Degrees hanging on my walls are long gone in the tip. ๐Ÿ˜ Moral to the story: Dance Naked in the Rain ๐ŸŒ‚


By Peace Truth

Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Life you can be sure of, you will not get out ALIVE.(sorry about that)