It is certain, however, that a mere combination of commercial interests does but little for the heart; science, with its exact formulas, is almost equally powerless; they form together but the bony skeleton of a lifeless union; poetry and the arts must clothe it with the soft and clinging flesh, quicken it with the throbbing heart, and warm it with the loving soul of an all-embracing humanity; and it is, to say the least, very remarkable how exactly this important task is in keeping with the nature of the arts, because they alone express the _feelings_, the _distinctive individualities_ of men and nations, while the sciences reveal only the 'impersonal' of the intellect. That a man may demonstrate mathematical problems tells us nothing of his heart; if he paint a single violet rightly, it tells of truth, sympathy, and love. Men never leave in their scientific researches the traces of the different phases of the soul, the _imprint_ of their own _personality_; the sciences have everywhere the same character, because they contain discrete and abstract ideas, necessarily the same in all minds. In the creations of art, on the contrary, _feeling_, the spirit of life, is added to the pure idea, and this new element of _individual character_ introduced into the thought is, in its infinite subtlety, sufficient to produce the immense variety which exists in the poetic and artistic creations of different men, of different ages, and of different nations. And the reason of this is very simple; it is because the heart is the seat of _distinctive personality_. We never _love_ men for what they _know_; we love them for what they feel and _are_. It is consequently _feeling_ which is the principle of _union_ among men.