22 DARWINISM AND THE PROBLEMS OF LIFE 



A red-bellied newt issues from the dark depths to get 

 a mouthful of air, and, turning gracefully, sinks again. 

 A large swimming beetle appears, and hangs with its 

 hind part on the surface. The depth of the water is 

 full of water-fleas, which rise up and down unceasingly 

 like unnumbered points. 



And when the sun sinks below the horizon, and 

 darkness enfolds Nature in its thick veil, a new life 

 awakens. 



The call of the screech-owl resounds plaintively in 

 the wood, bats fly about in the air, and a gentle rustle 

 is heard in the grass. 



Fear falls on the man who enters into the soul of 

 the little night-walker, which must make its way in 

 the dark, and must be ready at every step to be seized 

 by some deadly unseen enemy. Never does the eternal 

 carnage in Nature seem so merciless, so terrible, as in 

 the night. 



Each hour of the day has its own life. 



In the forest, the field, or the pond the picture differs 

 entirely in the morning, at midday, in the evening, and 

 at night. If our path had led us into one of these three 

 regions, as we call the various provinces of Nature, at 

 another time of the day, we should have encountered 

 different animals. Yet the animals of any one region 

 are more closely related than those that live in different 

 regions at any particular time of the day. Forest, 

 field, and pond have their characteristic inhabitants, and 

 outside these regions there is a whole series of others. 



