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the exact truth. The hook of theory catches 

 nothing but illusions, acclaimed to-day as the 

 last word of knowledge, rejected as false to- 

 morrow and replaced by others which are 

 sooner or later seen to be erroneous in their 

 turn. Where then is this truth? Does it, 

 like the asymptote of the geometricians, re- 

 cede into infinity, pursued by our curiosity, 

 which always draws nearer to it without ever 

 reaching it? 



This comparison would be suitable were 

 our knowledge a curve of uniform devel- 

 opment; but it goes forwards and backwards, 

 up and down, twists and turns, approaches 

 its asymptote and then suddenly runs away 

 from it. It may chance to cross it, but only 

 unconsciously. The full knowledge of the 

 truth escapes it. 



Be this as it may, the Minotaur couple, 

 in so far as our casual observations enable 

 us to see, are remarkably zealous where the 

 family is concerned. We should have to go 

 high indeed in the animal series to find simi- 

 lar instances. Furred and feathered life 

 will afford us hardly any equivalents. 



If such things occurred, not in the Dung- 

 beetle world but in our own, we should speak 

 of them as pertaining to a very fine morality. 

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