ATLANTIS — TERMIER. 238 



It is then portioned off, at first in the direction of the West Indies, 

 then in the south, by the establishment of a marine shore which 

 extends as far as Senegal and to the depths of the Gulf of Guinea, 

 then at length in the east, probably during the Pliocene, along the 

 coast of Africa. The last great fragment, finally engulfed and no 

 longer having left any further vestiges than the four archipelagoes, 

 would be the Atlantis of Plato. 



I will refrain in my incompetence from expressing the slightest 

 opinion as to the zoologic value of the facts pointed out by M. Ger- 

 main, and as to the degree of accuracy of the conclusions that he 

 draws from them. But how can one fail to be struck by the almost 

 absolute agreement of these zoologic conclusions with those to which 

 geology has led us? And who could now, in the face of so complete 

 an accord, based on arguments so different, still doubt the preser- 

 vation, up to an epoch very near our own, of vast lands emerged in 

 the part of the ocean which is west of the Pillars of Hercules? 



That is sufficient; and this is what we should remember from our 

 brief talk. To reconstruct even approximately the map of Atlantis 

 will always remain a difficult proposition. At present we must not 

 even think of it. But it is entirely reasonable to believe that, long 

 after the opening of the Strait of Gibraltar, certain of these emerged 

 lands still existed, and among them a marvelous island, separated 

 from the African Continent by a chain of other smaller islands. 

 One thing alone remains to be proved — ^that the cataclysm which 

 caused this island to disappear was subsequent to the appearance of 

 man in western Europe. The cataclysm is undoubted. Did men 

 then live who could withstand the reaction and transmit the mem- 

 ory of it? That is the whole question. I do not believe it at all 

 insolvable, though it seems to me that neither geology nor zoology 

 will solve it. These two sciences appear to have told all that they 

 can tell ; and it is from anthropology, from ethnography, and, lastly, 

 from oceanography that I am now awaiting the final answer. 



Meanwhile, not only will science, most modern science, not make it 

 a crime for all lovers of beautiful legends to believe in Plato's story 

 of Atlantis, but science herself through my voice calls their attention 

 to it. Science herself, taking them by the hand and leading them 

 along the wreck-strewn ocean shore, spreads before their eyes, with 

 thousands of disabled ships, the continents submerged or reduced to 

 remnants, and the isles without number enshrouded in the abyssmal 

 depths. 



For my own part I can not help thinking of the abrupt movements 

 of the earth's crust and, among others, of that terrifying phenomenon 

 of the almost sudden disappearance of some outskirt of a continent, 



