I have said, to friends and aquaintences, that the only difference between a modern man and an ancient man is method and resources. In the beginning, there was simply philosophy. And it was a nice house that covered some ground, but it needed more. So philosophers built on each other, adding rooms and specializations and focuses, and those grew, and sometimes you had to knock out walls, but keep the framework.
We constantly remodel our house, knocking out useless walls and keeping parts that we like. We knock out the wall of Galenic medicine, but keep the baseboards of nerves making parts move and the heart helping carry the breath through the body. We get rid of geocentric physics, that the stars move around the earth, and the planets as well, but we never doubt that heavenly bodies move.
We simply build onto our knowledge, growing more and more aware. But never moving from where we started.
Real development is not leaving things behind, as on a road, but drawing life from them, as from a root. Even when we improve we never progress. For progress, the metaphor from the road, implies a man leaving his home behind him: but improvement means a man exalting the towers or extending the gardens of his home.
— The Victorian Age in Literature (1913).