the golden bough- 第243部分

But　as　time　goes　on　this　explanation　in　its　turn　proves　to　be　unsatisfactory。　For　it　assumes　that　the　succession　of　natural　events　is　not　determined　by　immutable　laws；　but　is　to　some　extent　variable　and　irregular；　and　this　assumption　is　not　borne　out　by　closer　observation。　On　the　contrary；　the　more　we　scrutinise　that　succession　the　more　we　are　struck　by　the　rigid　uniformity；　the　punctual　precision　with　which；　wherever　we　can　follow　them；　the　operations　of　nature　are　carried　on。　Every　great　advance　in　knowledge　has　extended　the　sphere　of　order　and　correspondingly　restricted　the　sphere　of　apparent　disorder　in　the　world；　till　now　we　are　ready　to　anticipate　that　even　in　regions　where　chance　and　confusion　appear　still　to　reign；　a　fuller　knowledge　would　everywhere　reduce　the　seeming　chaos　to　cosmos。　Thus　the　keener　minds；　still　pressing　forward　to　a　deeper　solution　of　the　mysteries　of　the　universe；　come　to　reject　the　religious　theory　of　nature　as　inadequate；　and　to　revert　in　a　measure　to　the　older　standpoint　of　magic　by　postulating　explicitly；　what　in　magic　had　only　been　implicitly　assumed；　to　wit；　an　inflexible　regularity　in　the　order　of　natural　events；　which；　if　carefully　observed；　enables　us　to　foresee　their　course　with　certainty　and　to　act　accordingly。　In　short；　religion；　regarded　as　an　explanation　of　nature；　is　displaced　by　science。

But　while　science　has　this　much　in　common　with　magic　that　both　rest　on　a　faith　in　order　as　the　underlying　principle　of　all　things；　readers　of　this　work　will　hardly　need　to　be　reminded　that　the　order　presupposed　by　magic　differs　widely　from　that　which　forms　the　basis　of　science。　The　difference　flows　naturally　from　the　different　modes　in　which　the　two　orders　have　been　reached。　For　whereas　the　order　on　which　magic　reckons　is　merely　an　extension；　by　false　analogy；　of　the　order　in　which　ideas　present　themselves　to　our　minds；　the　order　laid　down　by　science　is　derived　from　patient　and　exact　observation　of　the　phenomena　themselves。　The　abundance；　the　solidity；　and　the　splendour　of　the　results　already　achieved　by　science　are　well　fitted　to　inspire　us　with　a　cheerful　confidence　in　the　soundness　of　its　method。　Here　at　last；　after　groping　about　in　the　dark　for　countless　ages；　man　has　hit　upon　a　clue　to　the　labyrinth；　a　golden　key　that　opens　many　locks　in　the　treasury　of　nature。　It　is　probably　not　too　much　to　say　that　the　hope　of　progressmoral　and　intellectual　as　well　as　materialin　the　future　is　bound　up　with　the　fortunes　of　science；　and　that　every　obstacle　placed　in　the　way　of　scientific　discovery　is　a　wrong

to　humanity。

Yet　the　history　of　thought　should　warn　us　against　concluding　that　because　the　scientific　theory　of　the　world　is　the　best　that　has　yet　been　formulated；　it　is　necessarily　complete　and　final。　We　must　remember　that　at　bottom　the　generalisations　of　science　or；　in　common　parlance；　the　laws　of　nature　are　merely　hypotheses　devised　to　explain　that　ever…shifting　phantasmagoria　of　thought　which　we　dignify　with　the　high…sounding　names　of　the　world　and　the　universe。　In　the　last　analysis　magic；　religion；　and　science　are　nothing　but　theories　of　thought；　and　as　science　has　supplanted　its　predecessors；　so　it　may　hereafter　be　itself　superseded　by　some　more　perfect　hypothesis；　perhaps　by　some　totally　different　way　of　looking　at　the　phenomenaof　registering　the　shadows　on　the　screenof　which　we　in　this　generation　can　form　no　idea。　The　advance　of　knowledge　is　an　infinite　progression　towards　a　goal　that　for　ever　recedes。　We　need　not　murmur　at　the　endless　pursuit：

Fatti　non　foste　a　viver　come　bruti　Ma　per　seguir　virtute　e　conoscenza。

Great　things　will　come　of　that　pursuit；　though　we　may　not　enjoy　them。　Brighter　stars　will　rise　on　some　voyager　of　the　futuresome　great　Ulysses　of　the　realms　of　thoughtthan　shine　on　us。　The　dreams　of　magic　may　one　day　be　the　waking　realities　of　science。　But　a　dark　shadow　lies　athwart　the　far　end　of　this　fair　prospect。　For　however　vast　the　increase　of　knowledge　and　of　power　which　the　future　may　have　in　store　for　man；　he　can　scarcely　hope　to　stay　the　sweep　of　those　great　forces　which　seem　to　be　making　silently　but　relentlessly　for　the　destruction　of　all　this　starry　universe　in　which　our　earth　swims　as　a　speck　or　mote。　In　the　ages　to　come　man　may　be　able　to　predict；　perhaps　even　to　control；　the　wayward　courses　of　the　winds　and　clouds；　but　hardly　will　his　puny　hands　have　strength　to　speed　afresh　our　slackening　planet　in　its　orbit　or　rekindle　the　dying　fire　of　the　sun。　Yet　the　philosopher　who　trembles　at　the　idea　of　such　distant　catastrophes　may　console　himself　by　reflecting　that　these　gloomy　apprehensions；　like　the　earth　and　the　sun　themselves；　are　only　parts　of　that　unsubstantial　world　which　thought　has　conjured　up　out　of　the　void；　and　that　the　phantoms　which　the　subtle　enchantress　has　evoked　to…day　she　may　ban　to…morrow。　They　too；　like　so　much　that　to　common　eyes　seems　solid；　may　melt　into　air；　into　thin　air。

Without　dipping　so　far　into　the　future；　we　may　illustrate　the　course　which　thought　has　hitherto　run　by　likening　it　to　a　web　woven　of　three　different　threadsthe　black　thread　of　magic；　the　red　thread　of　religion；　and　the　white　thread　of　science；　if　under　science　we　may　include　those　simple　truths；　drawn　from　observation　of　nature；　of　which　men　in　all　ages　have　possessed　a　store。　Could　we　then　survey　the　web　of　thought　from　the　beginning；　we　should　probably　perceive　it　to　be　at　first　a　chequer　of　black　and　white；　a　patchwork　of　true　and　false　notions；　hardly　tinged　as　yet　by　the　red　thread　of　religion。　But　carry　your　eye　farther　along　the　fabric　and　you　will　remark　that；　while　the　black　and　white　chequer　still　runs　through　it；　there　rests　on　the　middle　portion　of　the　web；　where　religion　has　entered　most　deeply　into　its　texture；　a　dark　crimson　stain；　which　shades　off　insensibly　into　a　lighter　tint　as　the　white　thread　of　science　is　woven　more　and　more　into　the　tissue。　To　a　web　thus　chequered　and　stained；　thus　shot　with　threads　of　diverse　hues；　but　gradually　changing　colour　the　farther　it　is　unrolled；　the　state　of　modern　thought；　with　all　its　divergent　aims　and　conflicting　tendencies；　may　be　compared。　Will　the　great　movement　which　for　centuries　has　been　slowly　altering　the　complexion　of　thought　be　continued　in　the　near　future？　or　will　a　reaction　set　in　which　may　arrest　progress　and　even　undo　much　that　has　been　done？　To　keep　up　our　parable；　what　will　be　the　colour　of　the　web　which　the　Fates　are　now　weaving　on　the　humming　loom　of　time？　will　it　be　white　or　red？　We　cannot　tell。　A　faint　glimmering　light　illumines　the　backward　portion　of　the　web。　Clouds　and　thick　darkness　hide　the　other　end。

Our　long　voyage　of　discovery　is　over　and　our　bark　has　drooped　her　weary　sails　in　port　at　last。　Once　more　we　take　the　road　to　Nemi。　It　is　evening；　and　as　we　climb　the　long　slope　of　the　Appian　Way　up　to　the　Alban　Hills；　we　look　back　and　see　the　sky　aflame　with　sunset；　its　golden　glory　resting　like　the　aureole　of　a　dying　saint　over　Rome　and　touching　with　a　crest　of　fire　the　dome　of　St。　Peter's。　The　sight　once　seen　can　never　be　forgotten；　but　we　turn　from　it　and　pursue　our　way　darkling　along　the　mountain　side；　till　we　come　to　Nemi　and　look　down　on　the　lake　in　its　deep　hollow；　now　fast　disappearing　in　the　evening　shadows。　The　place　has　changed　but　little　since　Diana　received　the　homage　of　her　worshippers　in　the　sacred　grove。　The　temple　of　the　sylvan　goddess；　indeed；　has　vanished　and　the　King　of　the　Wood　no　longer　stands　sentinel　over　the　Golden　Bough。　But　Nemi's　woods　are　still　green；　and　as　the　sunset　fades　above　them　in　the　west；　there　comes　to　us；　borne　on　the　swell　of　the　wind；　the　sound　of　the　church　bells　of　Aricia　ringing　the　Angelus。　Ave　Maria！　Sweet　and　solemn　they　chime　out　from　the　distant　town　and　die　lingeringly　away　across　the　wide　Campagnan　marshes。　Le　roi　est　mort；　vive　le　roi！　Ave　Maria！





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