If a cunning workman make an engine that fashioneth curious works,
Which hath the praise, the machine or its maker,—the engine, or he that framed it?
And could he frame it so subtly as to give it a will and freedom,
Endow it with complicated powers, and a glorious living soul,
Who, while he admireth the wondrous understanding creature,
Will not pay deeper homage to the Maker of master minds?
Otherwise, thou art senseless as the pagan, that adoreth his own handywork;
Yea, while thou boastest of thy wisdom, thy mind is as the mind of the savage,
For he boweth down to his idols, and thou art a worshipper of self,
Giving to the reasoning machine the credit due to its creator.