What has become of the Sunday-supplement, positive, dogmatic, you-are-a-fool-if-you-do-not-agree-with-what-I-say attitude? These men, who do not wish to be mystics, engage in more ghostly talk than did the delegates to the Meta-Physic Congress which met last year at the Sorbonne in Paris to discuss telepathy, haunted houses, and kindred matters. Gone is the cocksure vanity of the closing nineteenth century. Gone is the God-defying materialistic impiety, the arrogance, the hard-heartedness of an older and more ignorant day. In this ultimate dim Thule where the higher syntheses are born, kissing the dust is today the only permitted posture. Hypotheses hardly dare to call themselves even hypotheses any more. They are content to be known as assumptions, postulations, fancies, guesses, and thankful if they may be allowed to live their unreal existences from the time of the publication of one pamphlet to that of the next. Early modern science was drunk with victory. New science is dizzy with awe. How comes it, then, that our Dr. Watsons can say that there is no mystery in the building of a man? A man! Ah, that is different. We have as yet hardly touched upon those positively certain “sciences” which deal with human nature, with love, life and destiny. 3. THE BED OF PROCRUSTES Hans Driesch, at Jena, working in the very laboratory of Ernst Haeckel shortly after the death of that master argument-maker for the mechanist conception of life, inadvertently broke a fertile egg in two--and thereby broke not in two but into smithereens the whole mechanism of the mechanist which he had been taught to defend. For the egg hatched, each half producing a perfect creature as if nothing had happened. Driesch then reduced a fertile egg fairly to hash--and still each fragment functioned like a whole egg. As long as the egg was not killed--and the eggs of primitive creatures are tough eggs except where temperature and certain poisons are concerned--hashing merely multiplied the hatch. The biologist was much disturbed. For it seemed fairly obvious that if the design which growth was to follow lay anywhere in the material of the eggs, division of said eggs would--if it did not bring the whole vital process to an end--result at least in the division of the incubated organisms. One half of an egg should, if it hatched at all, hatch a head; the other half a tail--and so on. But this not being what happened, design could no longer be located in egg material. Any part of the material was ready to develop into either head, or tail, or wing, or antennæ, or what not, according to the direction of something beyond the dividing process--something which remained whole in each part.