The Ideal Life Is That Which Has

Nothing Is So Dangerous To The Progress Of The Human Mind Than To Assume That Our Views Of Science Are Ultimate, That There Are No Mysteries In Nature, That Our Triumphs Are Complete And That There Are No New Worlds To Conquer.

Nothing Tends So Much To The Advancement Of Knowledge As The Application Of A New Instrument. The Native Intellectual Powers Of Men In Different Times Are Not So Much The Causes Of The Different Success Of Their Labours, As The Peculiar Nature Of The Means And Artificial Resources In Their Possession.

I Have Learned More From My Mistakes Than From My Successes.

Cavendish Was A Great Man With Extraordinary Singularities-his Voice Was Squeaking His Manner Nervous He Was Afraid Of Strangers & Seemed When Embarrassed To Articulate With Difficulty-he Wore The Costume Of Our Grandfathers. Was Enormously Rich But Made No Use Of His Wealth... He Cavendish Lived Latterly The Life Of A Solitary, Came To The Club Dinner & To The Royal Society: But Received Nobody At His Home. He Was Acute Sagacious & Profound & I Think The Most Accomplished British Philosopher Of His Time.

Oh, Most Magnificent And Noble Nature! Have I Not Worshipped Thee With Such A Love As Never Mortal Man Before Displayed? Adored Thee In Thy Majesty Of Visible Creation, And Searched Into Thy Hidden And Mysterious Ways As Poet, As Philosopher, As Sage?