no 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
up his hook hy simply declaring his firm and implicit belief in his own 
literal interpretation of the words of the first chapter of Genesis, and 
avowing that no amount or kind of evidence or argument can shake this 
belief. 
Appeal to Astronomy, and tell him of the hundreds and thousands 
of years required for the passage of light from the more distant bodies 
of the universe to our eyes, so that the fact that we see them proves that 
they existed so long ago. “Not at all,” he replies; “ their existence 
was prochronic, the light was created on its passage, at the same time 
as the bodies themselves were created. It was created at the very eyes 
of Adam, so that he saw them the first night of his and their exist¬ 
ence.’’ 
He would even maintain that, with respect to the most distant of 
them, we ourselves may, perhaps, perceive them by “ prochronic’ ’ and 
not real light, by light created in mid space, for the sole purpose of in¬ 
forming us of their existence. 
He speaks of the possibility of the earth having been created in the 
year 1857 of our present era, with ruined and half-built houses, half 
finished pictures, half-written books, the ashes of some that have been 
burnt, newspapers fresh from the press, giving accounts of the “ pro- 
chronic” occurrence of 1856, old men, and young children just born, 
some still in the womb, and graveyards filled with the mouldering bones 
of their “ pro chronic” ancestors. He would convert the universe into a 
cave of glamour, and degrade the Creator to an Arch-Magician. Admit 
his conclusions as even possible, and we have no longer any certainty of 
the existence of any moment but the present. The last number of your 
Review, Gentlemen, and even “ Omphalos” itself may never really have 
been written and printed;—the copies now on my table may be only 
evidence of their “ prochronic” existence ; and the next step will be that 
we must even disbelieve the present, and allow the possibility of our 
even now being only in a “ prochronic’’ state, and that nothing of us 
really exists, but is only to come into existence in Anno Domini x, y, %. 
Apologising for trespassing at so much length upon your pages, 
I am, Gentlemen, 
Your obedient servant, 
J. Beete Jukes, A. M., E. R. S. 
