A LONG JUMP

It is a long jump from Moses, the author of the first work on Geography, to Peter Simple.

When the acrobatic reader has fetched his breath and looks back at the fearsome list of Geographers he has skipped—Strabo, Anaximander, Hecatoeus, Demoeritus, Eudoxus, Ephorus, Dicoearchus, Erastothenes, Polybius, Posidonius and Charles F. King,—he may well be thankful to find he has fallen upon his feet. The Geographer’s task is endless.

The Planet he endeavours to portray is perpetually changing its appearance. After thousands and thousands of years, it is no nearer completion than it was in the beginning.

The Sea with its white teeth bites the edges of the continents into new shapes, as a child bites the edges of a biscuit. The glaciers file away the mountains into valleys and plains. Beneath the ocean busy insects are building the foundations of new continents and, under the earth, Fiery Demons are ready at all times to burst forth and help to destroy the old ones.

It really begins to look as if this Planet would never be finished.

In the first chapter of his geography, Moses tells us there were only two people in the world.

Today we are preparing to put up the “standing room only” notice. In another thousand years, for aught we know, the earth may be going round dark and tenantless and bearing the sign “To Let.” What does it matter to us? What are we but microscopic weevils in the mouldy crust of earth? Sufficient unto the day is the weevil thereof.