hastened or retarded, opportunities for family life are made or unmade, and fewer children, or more children, as the case may be, are the result.  The issue of some battle hundreds or thousands of years ago may have played a part in your life and mine to-day—­other races, other individuals of the race, would have been thrown together had the issue been different, and other families started, so that some one else would have been here in our stead.

But the question of hazard to the race of man in geologic time is quite a different one.  Here our fate seems to hang by a single thread—­a golden thread, we may call it, but, in that terrible maze of clashing forces and devouring forms of the vast geologic periods, how liable to be broken!  It is not now a question of the continuity of a stream, but of the continuity of a single evolutionary process, or, as Haeckel says, the continuity of the morphological chain which stretches from the lemurs up through tailed and tailless anthropoid apes to man.  If the evolutionary impulse had been checked or extinguished in the lemur—­that small apelike animal that went before the true ape, the fossil remains of which have been found on this continent and the survivals of which are now found in Madagascar—­would man have appeared?  Again, if the race of lemurs developed from a single pair, how precarious seems our fate!  In fact, if any of the transitional forms between species can be reduced to a single pair—­as the forms that connect the reptiles with the mammals—­our fate would seem to be in the keeping of these forms.  Over this single frail bridge which escaped the floods and the tornadoes and the earthquakes of those terrible ages we must have passed.  What risky business it all seems!  Was it luck or law that favored us?  Doubtless, if we could penetrate the mystery, we should see that there was no chance or risk in the matter.  We cannot go very far in solving these great fundamental questions by applying to them the tests of our own experience, Numberless specific forms become extinct, but the impulse that begat the form does not die out.  Thus, all the giant reptiles died out—­the dinosaurs, the mesosaurs—­but the reptilian impulse still survives.  How many types of invertebrates have perished! but the invertebrate impulse still goes on.  How many species of mammals have been cut off! yet the mammal impulse has steadily gone forward.  These things suggest the wave that moves on but leaves the water behind.  The vertebrate impulse began in wormlike forms, in the old Palaeozoic seas, and stopped not till it culminated in man.  This impulse has left many forms behind it; but has this impulse itself ever been endangered?  If one looks at the matter thus in an abstract instead of a concrete way, the problem of our descent becomes easier.