The past which has given us this most wonderful of all the fruits of time, does not satisfy us equally as to the use that has been made of it. Our crowded slums do not proclaim the glory of Watt and Stephenson as the heavens remind us of Kepler and Newton. Selfishness has grown fat on ill-paid labour, and jealous nations have sharpened their weapons with every device that science can suggest. But a sober judgement, as well as the clearest evidence of history, dictates a more hopeful conclusion. Industry, the twin brother of science, has vastly increased our wealth, our comfort, and our capacity for enjoyment. Medicine, the most human of her children, has lengthened our lives, fortified our bodies, and alleviated our suffering. Every chapter in this volume gives some evidence of the beneficent power of science. For religion, government, morality, even art, are all profoundly influenced by the knowledge that man has acquired of the world around him and his practical conclusions from it. These do not, with the possible exception of art, contradict the thesis of a general improvement of mankind, and science must therefore claim a share--it would seem the decisive share--in the result. We speak, of course, of science in the sense which has been developed in this essay, of the bright well-ordered centre to our knowledge which is always spreading and bringing more of the surrounding fringe, which is also spreading, into the well-defined area. In this sense religion, morality and government have all within historic times come within the range of clear and well-ordered thought: and mankind standing thus within the light, stands more firmly and with better hope. He sees the dark spots and the weaknesses. He knows the remedies, though his will is often unequal to applying them. And even with this revelation of weakness and ignorance, he is on the whole happier and readier to grapple with his fate. If this appears a fair diagnosis of the Western mind in the midst of its greatest external crisis, the reason for this amazing firmness of mind and stability of society must be sought in the structure which science and industry combined have built around us. The savage, untutored in astronomy, may think that an eclipse betokens the end of the world. Science convinces him that it will pass. Just so the modern world trained to an order of thought and of society which rests on world-wide activities elaborated through centuries of common effort, awaits the issue of our darkened present calmly and unmoved. The things of the mind on which all nations have co-operated in the past will re-assert their sway. Fundamentally this is a triumph for the scientific spirit, the order which man has now succeeded in establishing between himself and his surroundings.