Preface 



eludes us. To know how not to know might 

 well be the last word of wisdom.' 



Evidently, this is hoping too little. In the 

 frightful pit, in the bottomless funnel where- 

 in whirl all those contradictory facts which 

 are resolved in obscurity, we know just as 

 much as our cave-dwelling ancestors; but at 

 least we know that we do not know. We 

 survey the dark faces of all the riddles, we 

 try to estimate their number, to classify their 

 varying degrees of dimness, to obtain an idea 

 of their places and extent. That already is 

 something, pending the day of the first gleams 

 of light. In any case, it means doing, in the 

 presence of the mysteries, all that the most 

 upright intelligence can do to-day; and that 

 is what the author of this incomparable Iliad 

 does, with more confidence than he professes. 

 He gazes at them attentively. He wears out 

 his life in surprising their most minute se- 

 crets. He prepares for them, in his thoughts 

 and in ours, the field necessary for their evo- 

 lutions. He increases the consciousness of his 

 ignorance in proportion to their importance 

 and learns to understand more and more that 

 they are incomprehensible. 



Maurice Maeterlinick. 



35 



