THE FLIGHT OF THE EAGLE 217 
the human mind since it began to relax its hold 
upon tradition and the past; and we behold man 
reconciled, happy, ecstatic, full of reverence, awe, 
and wonder, reinstated in Paradise,— the paradise 
of perfect knowledge and unrestricted faith. 
It needs but a little pondering to see that the 
great poet of the future will not be afraid of science, 
but will rather seek to plant his feet upon it as 
upon a rock. He knows that, from an enlarged 
point of view, there is no feud between Science and 
Poesy, any more than there is between Science and 
Religion, or between Science and Life. He sees 
that the poet and the scientist do not travel op- 
posite but parallel roads, that often approach each 
other very closely, if they do not at times actually 
join. The poet will always pause when he finds 
himself in opposition to science; and the scientist is 
never more worthy the name than when he escapes 
from analysis into synthesis, and gives us living 
wholes. And science, in its present bold and recep- 
tive mood, may be said to be eminently creative, and 
to have made every first-class thinker and every large 
worker in any esthetic or spiritual field immeasur- 
ably its debtor. It has dispelled many illusions, 
but it has more than compensated the imagination 
by the unbounded vistas it has opened up on either 
hand. It has added to our knowledge, but it has 
added to our ignorance in the same measure: the 
large circle of light only reveals the larger circle of 
darkness that encompasses it, and life and being and 
the orbs are enveloped in a greater mystery to the 
