dliness, and merriment are the pervasive colors of life.
In the activity of creative art, man's imagination has reached
out beyond the confines of nature and of history, and built
itself, in marble and in music, in lyrics and in legends, hints
of that enchanting possible, of which the impoverished actual
gives tentative and tenuous hints.

In some men sensitivity to the imaginative possibilities of
the materials of Nature is so high, that they can find satisfactory
activity nowhere else than in one or another of the
fine arts. These are the poets, the musicians, and the sculptors,
who seek to give realization in the arts in the technique
of which they are especially gifted, to that imagined beauty
by the intimate experience of which they live. In one way or
another the creative artist seeks to give form and dimension to

"The light that never was on sea or land,
The consecration and the poet's dream."

This creative impulse may find its realization, as already
pointed out, in industry, though, with the highly routine
character of most men's occupations in present-day industrial
life, there is not much opportunity for imaginative activity.
That both work and happiness would be promoted by the
encouragement of the craftsman ideal goes without saying.
Whether or not it is possible to utilize the creative impulses
in the processes of industry as now organized, there are instances
where the joy of craftsmanship may be exploited both
for the happiness of the worker and the good of the work.
The William Morris ideal of the artist-worker may be hard to
attain, but it is none the less desirable, both for the sake of the
worker and his work.

In science the uses of the imagination have been frequently
commented on, not least by scientists. The patient
collection of facts, the digging and measurement and
inquiry that characterize so much of scientific investigation
are not the whole of it. Inference, the forming of a generalization,
is frequently described "as a leap from the known to
the unknown," and this discovery of a binding principle that
brings together a wide variety of disconnected facts is not
unlike the process of the creative artist. The same unconscious
method by which a poet hits upon an appropriate epithet, a
musician upon a melody, a painter upon an effect of color
or line is displayed in that sudden vivid flash of insight by
which a scientist sees a mass of facts that have long seemed
bafflingly cont