In all ages mystery has had a special attraction for mankind. Curiosity is innate in us. The child asks about everything, What is this. What is it for, why is it made so, or so? The child fairly harries its parents with questions, never wearies of raising new ones, often so un expected and so difficult, that it would puzzle the wisest philcscpher to answer them. And this instinct of in quiry is dominant in the adult, too. 'the grown man wants to know what is to be found behind every curtain, every locked door, in every sealed letter. And when sated with such tri?es he must push inquiry further, into the infinite; must lift the veil that hides the wondrous image at Sais; must pluck from the forbidden tree of knowledge the tempting golden fruit. He would with the Titans storm heaven, and ascend to heights where stirs no breath of air, where stands the boundary-stone of creation. At last when Faust, after manifold crosses and disappointments, sees that we can know nothing, the thought consumes the heart within him.