Therefore, it strikes me that in view of this multifold reincarnation of the spirit of prophecy in our Men of Science and of Letters, some increase of Intelligence may well be needed to steady our nerves and allow us to recognize the real dangers of which, heaven knows, there are plenty requiring to be faced with ... well, the far-too-little Intelligence already at our disposal. For, possibly because it is not “creative” (and _creation_ usually implies chaos and refuse-heaps), Intelligence is especially preservative and sheltering. It is the natural purifier and tidier-up where Genius and Stupidity, disrupting and corrupting by turns, have between them played the deuce with our poor mortal heritage. And in the face of the millionfold sacrifices of self and others which Ideals and Heroisms have once again presented to our foolish admiration, I would go so far as to add that Intelligence is often more humane than Sentiment, and, oftener still, more beneficent than what we call Virtue. From the misapplications of our Science, the exaggerations and lunacies of our Genius, and the havoc wrought by our higher instincts, we therefore need to be saved, not by Reason, which is always too long in getting under weigh, but by Intelligence, active, alacritous and ubiquitous, afraid neither of being laughed at nor of laughing at others.... But even as I stammer out this old-fashioned demand for _Salvation_, the name of Proteus sounds suddenly in the ear of my spirit. How can I tell what Proteus may next be――perhaps already is――changing into? And after prating about Intelligence being one-half light-hearted scepticism and one-half steady confidence, am I going to join the mixed choir, ecstatic or growling, of prophesying optimists and pessimists? But, though restrained by that thought of Proteus and his frequently inconsiderate metamorphoses, I should like to add a word on one question regarding the near future of Intelligence, but with the understanding that I do so not as a prophet of what may happen, so much as a witness of half a century’s already accomplished changes. The question, or rather query, has doubtless occurred to some of my readers, and is as follows: Granted that Intelligence rids us of dangerous superstitions, and rids us, moreover, of the habit of superstition, which is a matter less of _what_ than of _how_ one believes; granted that along with lucidity Intelligence brings also intellectual equity, cleanness and dignity; granted all this, may not such gains be paid for in disproportionate loss? And may not Intelligence itself constitute a danger? Has it not already begun despoiling life of many of the shelters built by the Ages with unknowing or inspired hands? Worse still: will it not replace with its narrow and wavering lucidity those dark unquestioning instincts and aspirations, lurking ever ready in the obscure organization and the mysterious formulæ inherited from our remotest ancestors?