to which we have all listened in our childhood, that
this hypothesis owes its general wide diffusion as
one of the current beliefs of English-speaking people.
If you turn to the seventh book of “Paradise
Lost,” you will find there stated the hypothesis
to which I refer, which is briefly this: That
this visible universe of ours came into existence
at no great distance of time from the present; and
that the parts of which it is composed made their appearance,
in a certain definite order, in the space of six natural
days, in such a manner that, on the first of these
days, light appeared; that, on the second, the firmament,
or sky, separated the waters above, from the waters
beneath, the firmament; that, on the third day, the
waters drew away from the dry land, and upon it a
varied vegetable life, similar to that which now exists,
made its appearance; that the fourth day was signalised
by the apparition of the sun, the stars, the moon,
and the planets; that, on the fifth day, aquatic animals
originated within the waters; that, on the sixth day,
the earth gave rise to our four-footed terrestrial
creatures, and to all varieties of terrestrial animals
except birds, which had appeared on the preceding day;
and, finally, that man appeared upon the earth, and
the emergence of the universe from chaos was finished.
Milton tells us, without the least ambiguity, what
a spectator of these marvellous occurrences would
have witnessed. I doubt not that his poem is
familiar to all of you, but I should like to recall
one passage to your minds, in order that I may be justified
in what I have said regarding the perfectly concrete,
definite, picture of the origin of the animal world
which Milton draws. He says:—
“The sixth, and of creation
last, arose
With evening harps and matin,
when God said,
’Let the earth bring
forth soul living in her kind,
Cattle and creeping things,
and beast of the earth,
Each in their kind!’
The earth obeyed, and, straight
Opening her fertile womb,
teemed at a birth
Innumerous living creatures,
perfect forms,
Limbed and full-grown.
Out of the ground uprose,
As from his lair, the wild
beast, where he wons
In forest wild, in thicket,
brake, or den;
Among the trees in pairs they
rose, they walked;
The cattle in the fields and
meadows green;
Those rare and solitary; these
in flocks
Pasturing at once, and in
broad herds upsprung.
The grassy clods now calved;
now half appears
The tawny lion, pawing to
get free
His hinder parts—then
springs, as broke from bonds,
And rampant shakes his brinded
mane; the ounce,
The libbard, and the tiger,
as the mole
Rising, the crumbled earth
above them threw
In hillocks; the swift stag
from underground
Bore up his branching head;
scarce from his mould
Behemoth, biggest born of
earth, upheaved
His vastness; fleeced the
flocks and bleating rose
As plants; ambiguous between
sea and land,
The river-horse and scaly
crocodile.
At once came forth whatever
creeps the ground,
Insect or worm.