The disaster was of a kind never before seen in the history of Science—so long preparing and yet so sudden; so quietly planned and yet so mighty in its effect; a scientific event without a parallel, whether we consider the extent and the importance of the system which was overturned, or the reverberations of the downfall to the uttermost limits of human knowledge. Just as, after the overturning of thrones, the neighboring countries are for a long time all commotion and tumult, whereas in the center of the disturbance itself new institutions are beginning to take root, so in consequence of the Darwinian movement the always unsettled border-land between science and philosophy is yet in a state of violent fermentation, as we see nearly every day from the many-hued bubbles of literary effort which come to the-surface. But in the field of calm and earnest science this first turmoil has given way to more quiet contemplation. Already a new generation, which has grown up amid this revolution, is beginning to take the lead with renewed courage. Leaving out of the account a few cross-grained geniuses, whose lamentations we can disregard and pass to the order of the day, it is on all sides admitted that the old ground was untenable, and that in the place of Cuvier's and Agassiz's series of creations must be substituted Mr, Darwin's doctrine of descent.
At the same time the opinion seems to be steadily growing that the evolution of organic nature is to be explained only by the so-called laws of organic structure. The peculiar merit assigned to Darwin is that he has gained the victory for the doctrine of descent. On the other hand, the doctrine of natural selection is regarded, at the best, as an ingenious idea, set forth with much skill, but in point of fact of no value.
This view, in my opinion, calls in question the very best portion of the new advance in science.
Compared, indeed, with the doctrine of the systematic school, as it reigned unquestioned in manuals and lecture-rooms down to the publication of Darwin's work, the doctrine of descent appears in itself to be a great step of progress. None can be more ready to admit this than they who therein see the triumph of their own views, silently entertained; none can more highly esteem than these pre-Darwinian Darwinists the merit of having aided in giving to the doctrine of descent its present commanding position. Still it was not to be expected that these men should feel as much indebted, intellectually, to the doctrine of descent, as others who before were not quite certain whether whales didn't come forth ready made out of nothing; whether each species manufactured at pleasure by the ornithologist or the entomologist was not created in the beginning, and did not enter Noah's ark. If naturalists of this class, though now they accept the doctrine of descent, are nevertheless a little uneasy in their consciences, and wonder at their own audacity, it is, on the other hand, perfectly natural that those older adherents of the doctrine of descent should not rest content with the triumph of their
