A Reality Completely Independent Of The Spirit

A Scientist Worthy Of His Name, About All A Mathematician, Experiences In His Work The Same Impression As An Artist; His Pleasure Is As Great And Of The Same Nature.

The Scientist Does Not Study Nature Because It Is Useful To Do So. He Studies It Because He Takes Pleasure In It, And He Takes Pleasure In It Because It Is Beautiful. If Nature Were Not Beautiful It Would Not Be Worth Knowing, And Life Would Not Be Worth Living. I Am Not Speaking, Of Course, Of The Beauty Which Strikes The Senses, Of The Beauty Of Qualities And Appearances. I Am Far From Despising This, But It Has Nothing To Do With Science. What I Mean Is That More Intimate Beauty Which Comes From The Harmonious Order Of Its Parts, And Which A Pure Intelligence Can Grasp.

The Scientist Does Not Study Nature Because It Is Useful; He Studies It Because He Delights In It, And He Delights In It Because It Is Beautiful.

But For Harmony Beautiful To Contemplate, Science Would Not Be Worth Following.

Science Is Built Up With Facts, As A House Is With Stones. But A Collection Of Facts Is No More A Science Than A Heap Of Stones Is A House.