I have often wondered that the poem of Hyperion, by Keats—that magnificent torso of an incompleted work—has not been placed in the very forefront of past speculations on evolution. Keats is so thorough that he makes the very Divinities to be its product. The earliest gods such as Coelus, born out of Chaos, are vague entities, they engender Saturn, Oceanus, Hyperion, and the Titan brood, who supersede them. These in their turn are ousted from dominion by their own issue, the Olympian Gods. A notable advance occurs at each successive stage in the quality of the Divinities. When Hyperion, newly terrified by signs of impending overthrow, lies prostrate on the earth ‘his ancient mother, for some comfort yet,’ the voice of Coelus from the universal space, thus ‘whispered low and solemn in his ear ... yet do thou strive, for thou art capable ... my life is but the life of winds and tides, no more than winds and tides can I prevail, but thou canst.’ I have quoted only disjointed fragments of this wonderful poem, enough to serve as a reminder to those who know it, but will add ten consecutive lines from the speech of the fallen Oceanus to his comrades, which give a summary of evolution as here described: As Heaven and Earth are fairer, fairer far Than Chaos and black Darkness, though once chiefs, And as we show beyond that Heaven and Earth In form and shape compact and beautiful, In Will, in action free, companionship, And thousand other signs of purer life; So on our heels a fresh perfection treads A power more strong in beauty, born of us And fated to excel us, as we pass In glory that old Darkness. He ends with ‘this is the truth, and let it be your balm.’ The poem is a noble conception, founded on the crude cosmogony of the ancient Greeks.