Whence the idea came we do not know. It entered a mind that was ready
to receive it, coming unbidden from a place unknown like an abiding
quest from a spirit world. The mind that welcomed the idea was neither
masculine nor feminine, it was both, a thing androgynous, for genius
has ever been a single creative agent with a double sex. The tools with
which genius has worked--the selected traditions and conventions, the
acquired knowledge, the original observation, and the handicrafts of
social life--have ever been plain enough, of course; but to see and
admire tools is not to understand the advent of those imperishable
ideas which not only transform history, but turn all ordinary men into
their mimics and mechanics. For instance, whenever we light a candle
or a fire we obey the genius of a Palæolithic savage, who, with sparks
beaten from flint into some inflammable grass or moss or fluff from
cocoons, brought into the world the earliest missionaries, artificial
light and heat. Similarly, whenever we walk across a timber bridge,
whether old or new, we are servants to the earliest savage who with
a stone axe cut down a tree, causing it to fall from bank to bank
of a river or chasm. Delete from history even two mother-ideas--the
invention of wheels, for example, and the evolution of arched bridges
from Nature’s models--and how many civilizations would you cancel?
Omit from the annals of our “modern democracy” not more than three
mother-ideas: the discovery of steam as a motive-power, the discovery
of microbes, and the use of metal in bridge building. In a twinkling we
go back to the middle of the eighteenth century, when hospitals were
cesspools,[14] when surgery and medicine were wild empirics, when
travellers in stage-coaches longed for the general Turnpike Act (a boon
delayed till 1773), and when England was unspoiled by jerry-builders
and a factory system. A pontist, then, if he understands his subject,
looks upon genius as the solar system of human societies, hence he
cannot be a willing servant to any mob-rule or mob-worship.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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