of matter') is wholly just. The more I know intimately of the lives of other men (to say nothing of my own), the more obvious it is to me that the wicked does not flourish nor is the righteous punished."
One of the great problems of the future is to clear away the cobwebs which the early and mediæval ecclesiastics, unavoidably ignorant of science, and with ideas of the world now known to be fundamentally erroneous, have spun round the teachings of Christ; and in this Huxley rendered good service. For instance, all over the world in early days lunatics were supposed to be possessed by evil spirits. That was the universal belief of the Jews, as of other nations, 2,000 years ago, and one of Huxley's most remarkable controversies was with Mr. Gladstone and Dr. Wace with reference to the 'man possessed with devils/ which, we are told, were cast out and permitted to enter into a herd of swine. Some people thought that these three distinguished men might have occupied their time better than, as was said at the time, 'in fighting over the Gaderene swine.' But as Huxley observed:
"The real issue is whether the men of the nineteenth century are to adopt the demonology of the men of the first century as divinely revealed truth, or to reject it as degrading falsity."
And as the first duty of religion is to form the highest conception possible to the human mind of the Divine Nature, Huxley naturally considered that when a Prime Minister and Doctor of Divinity propound views showing so much ignorance of medical science, and so low a view of the Deity, it was time that a protest was made in the name, not only of science, but of religion.
Theologians themselves, indeed, admit the mystery of existence. "The wonderful world," says Canon Liddon, "in which we now pass this stage of our existence, whether the higher world of faith be open to our gaze or not, is a very temple of many and august mysteries. . . . Everywhere around you are evidences of the existence and movement of a mysterious power which you can neither see, nor touch, nor define, nor measure, nor understand."
One of Huxley's difficulties he has stated in the following words: "Infinite benevolence need not have invented pain and sorrow at all— infinite malevolence would very easily have deprived us of the large measure of content and happiness that falls to our lot."
This does not, I confess, strike one as conclusive. It seems an answer—if not perhaps quite complete, that if we are to have any freedom and responsibility, the possibility of evil follows necessarily. If two courses are open to us, there are two alternatives; either the results are the same in either case, and then it does not matter what we do; or the one course must be wise and the other unwise. Huxley, indeed, said in another place: "1 protest that if some great power could agree to make me always think what is true, and do what is right, on condition of being
