e is
sure to be so; while the embroideries they make upon perception out of
their own resources will differ as much as do the men themselves. Men
asleep, said Heraclitus, live each in his own world, but awake they live
in the same world together. To be awake is nothing but to be dreaming
under control of the object; it is to be pursuing science to the
comparative exclusion of mere mental vegetation and spontaneous myth.
Thus if our objects are the same, our science and our waking lives will
coincide; or if there is a natural diversity in our discoveries, because
we occupy different points in space and time and have a varying range of
experience, these diversities will nevertheless supplement one another;
the discovery that each has made will be a possible discovery for the
others also. So a geographer in China and one in Babylonia may at first
make wholly unlike maps; but in time both will take note of the
Himalayas, and the side each approaches will slope up to the very crest
approached by the other. So science is self-confirming, and its most
disparate branches are mutually illuminating; while in the realm of
myth, until it is surveyed scientifically, there can be nothing but
mutual repulsion and incapacity to understand. Languages and religions
are necessarily rivals, but sciences are necessarily allies.

[Sidenote: In existence, judged by reflection, there is a margin of
waste.]

The unity of science can reach no farther than does coherent experience;
and though coherence be a condition of experience in the more pregnant
sense of the word--in the sense in which the child or the fool has no
experience--existence is absolutely free to bloom as it likes, and no
logic can set limits or prescribe times for its irresponsible presence.
A great deal may accordingly exist which cannot be known by science, or
be reached from the outside at all. This fact perhaps explains why
science has as yet taken so little root in human life: for even within
the limits of human existence, which are tolerably narrow, there is
probably no little incoherence, no little lapsing into what, from any
other point of view, is inconceivable and undiscoverable. Science, for
instance, can hardly reach the catastrophes and delights, often so
vivid, which occur in dreams; for even if a physiological psychology
should some day be able to find the causes of these phenomena, and so to
predict them, it would never enter the dream-world persuasively, in a