el of the birthday honours passes the Royal Society
by, or to listen to one indefatigable lichenologist commenting on the
work of another indefatigable lichenologist, such things force one to
realise the unfaltering littleness of men.
And withal the reef of Science that these little "scientists" built and
are yet building is so wonderful, so portentous, so full of mysterious
half-shapen promises for the mighty future of man! They do not seem to
realise the things they are doing! No doubt long ago even Mr.
Bensington, when he chose this calling, when he consecrated his life to
the alkaloids and their kindred compounds, had some inkling of the
vision,--more than an inkling. Without some such inspiration, for such
glories and positions only as a "scientist" may expect, what young man
would have given his life to such work, as young men do? No, they _must_
have seen the glory, they must have had the vision, but so near that it
has blinded them. The splendour has blinded them, mercifully, so that
for the rest of their lives they can hold the lights of knowledge in
comfort--that we may see!
And perhaps it accounts for Redwood's touch of preoccupation,
that--there can be no doubt of it now--he among his fellows was
different, he was different inasmuch as something of the vision still
lingered in his eyes.
II.
The Food of the Gods I call it, this substance that Mr. Bensington and
Professor Redwood made between them; and having regard now to what it
has already done and all that it is certainly going to do, there is
surely no exaggeration in the name. So I shall continue to call it
therefore throughout my story. But Mr. Bensington would no more have
called it that in cold blood than he would have gone out from his flat
in Sloane Street clad in regal scarlet and a wreath of laurel. The
phrase was a mere first cry of astonishment from him. He called it the
Food of the Gods, in his enthusiasm and for an hour or so at the most
altogether. After that he decided he was being absurd. When he first
thought of the thing he saw, as it were, a vista of enormous
possibilities--literally enormous possibilities; but upon this dazzling
vista, after one stare of amazement, he resolutely shut his eyes, even
as a conscientious "scientist" should. After that, the Food of the Gods
sounded blatant to the pitch of indecency. He was surprised he had used
the expression. Yet for all that something of that clear-eyed moment
hung about him and
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