but is eminently suggestive of evolution in the intensely dynamic, developmental quality of his thought, which perhaps also, in its suggestion of a Pantheistic indifference to immortality, may be said to be as destructive to humbler human hopes as Darwin was.

Also, there are the philosophers who, obviously coming within the scope of evolution and Darwinism, transform and transfigure them with a certain divine radiance and spiritual change. There is William James. Forty years ago I happened to ride in a horse-car opposite James, who was talking with all his splendid, eager enthusiasm to a pupil sitting beside him. James said that for a time he had been oppressed by the gloom of Schopenhauer’s pessimism. Then he had pulled himself together and made up his mind that the true course for him was to get rid of all the evil within his own reach, so far as he personally could, and let the broader working of the universe take care of itself. Here we see the germ which later grew into the splendid fabric of Pragmatism, the belief that the Spirit, which made the world of evolving phenomena, was itself a thing of dynamic growth and force, able to create by its own native energy a future and a reality and a God that should embody its highest ideals. A parallel development appears in the ‘Creative Evolution’ of Bergson, the theory of the creative spirit perpetually evolving in richer, more splendid, more satisfying forms, through the eternal depths of a luminous future. From the day when Darwin’s views were first announced up to this very moment, up to the publication of such books as Professor Whitehead’s ‘Science and Modern Thought’ and Professor Lloyd Morgan’s ‘Emergent Evolution,’ thinkers have been busily at work devising interpretations and developments of the evolutionary doctrine, regardless of conflict and divergence, in the spirit of Professor Whitehead’s admirable saying, ‘A clash of doctrines is not a disaster—it is an opportunity.’ The results are somewhat bewildering, and perhaps rarely satisfying to any but the thinkers themselves, but they are at least stimulating and suggestive.

And there are the achievements of the clergy. As I have earlier pointed out, it took many generations of herculean effort to get the Bible and the Copernican theory into harmony, but by endless processes of the reasonable wriggling which so much amused Darwin in himself and others[184] the two were contentedly brought together. Then appeared this later disturber of the peace, and at first the theologians despaired. But when did a theologian ever quite despair? Mankind must have God, must have Christ, must have the Bible, and above all things must have a priesthood. If Darwinism did away with the first three, I ask you what would the priesthood do for a living? Therefore the contending elements must be reconciled, and should be. Science in contradiction with religion? Fie! Never! Why, science only clarifies religion, and religion enriches and fructifies science. The marriage of the two is triumphantly proclaimed in the joyous cry of Dr. Cadman, which typifies thousands of others, and demonstrates that everything is for the best in the best of all possible clerical worlds: ‘So far from evolution being incompatible with religion, it is of all scientific theories the most easily accommodated to the demands of faith. In itself the evolutionary hypothesis supplies to all scientists and believers in religion one of the noblest conceptions of the creative mind to be found anywhere in literature. The idea of progressive development culminating in perfectibility contains the most radiant optimism extant to-day.’[185] It would be difficult to improve upon the splendor of that passage, but it offers vast food for meditation. Somehow I turn from it instinctively to the comment of Darwin upon one of his orthodox admirers: ‘How funny men’s minds are! He says he is chiefly converted because my books make the Birth of Christ, Redemption by Grace, etc., plain to him!’[186] How funny men’s minds are!

And then there come along those pestilent Fundamentalists, with whom some of us are much inclined to sympathize, and declare that Darwinism shatters the Bible and Christ altogether. But the Bible, as they read it, is infallible. Therefore Darwinism must be wrong: let us crush it, and grind it, and stamp it out of the world.

The optimism of the scientists is quite as persistent and perhaps a little more convincing than that of the theologians. There are first those whom, without meaning any slur, one may call the pseudo-scientists, writers who have had no special scientific training or experience or discipline, but who apply their quick literary wit to the consideration of evolutionary problems as of many others. If Messrs. Butler and Shaw and Wells and the rest cannot be said to have made scientific contributions of very great value, they have at least applied thoughtful, acute, suggestive analysis and stimulating conjecture in both religious and sociological lines.

The optimism of trained and professed scientists is, however, somewhat more serious and more important. From the advent of Darwin’s theory there have been those, like Asa Gray, who persisted in regarding it as perfectly, luminously compatible with entire orthodoxy. Gray himself maintained this position with militant energy, and Mivart, though far more critical of Darwin, contrived to reconcile the general principles of evolution with a long adherence to the Catholic Church. In our day Sir Oliver Lodge has reconciled a life of scientific research with spiritualistic beliefs, and even Darwin’s co-discoverer, Wallace, ardently advocated spiritualism to the end.

Others who are not quite so extreme in their conclusions, yet insist that there is no conflict whatever between a firm belief in Darwinism and a spiritual hope. Especially scientists of this type lay stress upon the benefits which enlightened scientific theory confers upon our life in this world. Evolution, according to them, teaches the splendid progress of man in the past and in the future, his enriching development, his enlarging solidarity in well-being and well-doing. When one reads these almost ecstatic interpretations of scientific possibility, one finds it really difficult to resist their rapture. Listen to the enthusiasm of Professor Conklin: ‘The past and present tendencies of evolution justify the highest hopes for the future and inspire faith in the final culmination of this great law in

“One far-off divine event

Toward which the whole creation moves.”’[187]

The religion of the future is to be no worse than that of the past: who knows but it may be infinitely better? ‘In the past religion has dealt to a large extent with the individual and his relation to God; its chief concern was the salvation of individual souls and their preparation for a future life; it has been largely egocentric. The religion of the future must more and more deal with the salvation of society; it must be ethnocentric.’[188] In the charming words of Meilhac and Halévy: