282 THOUGHTS IN A GRAYEL-PIT. [xi. 



sea-beaches and sea-shells fill many of our lower 

 valleys ; whales by hundreds are stranded (as in the 

 Farnham vale) where is now dry land. Gradually the 

 sunken land begins to rise again, and falls perhaps 

 again, and rises again after that, more and more 

 gently each time, till as it were the panting earth, 

 worn out with the fierce passions of her fiery youth, 

 has sobbed herself to sleep once more, and this new 

 world of man is made. And among it, I know not 

 when, or by what diluvial wave out of hundreds which 

 swept the Pleistocene earth, was deposited our little 

 gravel-pit, from which we started on our journey 

 through three worlds. 



When? 



Enough for us that He knows when, in whose 

 hand are the times and the seasons God the Father 

 of the spirits of all flesh. 



And now, ladies and gentlemen, take from hence a 

 lesson. I have brought you a long and a strange road. 

 Starting from this seemingly uninteresting pit, we have 

 come upon the records of three older worlds, and on 

 hints of worlds far older yet. We have come to them 

 by no theories, no dreams of the fancy, but by plain 

 honest reasoning, from plain honest facts. That won- 

 derful things had happened, we could see : but why they 

 had happened, we saw not. When we began to ask 

 the reason of this thing or of that, remember how we 

 had to stop, and laying our hands upon our mouths, 

 only say with the Mussulman : " God is great. " We 

 pick our steps, by lanthorn light indeed, and slowly, 

 but still surely and safely, along a dark and difficult 

 road : but just as we are beginning to pride ourselves 

 on having found our way so cleverly, we come to an 



