THE HALO OF A HUNDRED YEARS 395 



I heard a story the other day about a young German admirer, whom Lubbock 

 took to see him. He could not summon up courage to speak to the great 

 man; but, when they came away, burst into tears. Tliat is not my way; 

 but I can sympathize to some extent with the enthusiastic Dutchman." 



Although Darwin must have been tried sorely by vulgar misrepresenta- 

 tion, partisan spite, ignorant invective and foul traduction, " he never 

 took an ill-natured view of any one's character." His conduct mid- 

 most the cataract of abuse let loose upon the " Origin of Species " con- 

 stitutes a glorious monument to his elevation of soul. His open sim- 

 plicity earned the reverence no less than the affection of those who were 

 privileged to know him. And, as we now place our bays upon his 

 crowned memory, we may adopt the words of the Scottish poet, an 

 acquaintance of my college days, whose sonnet voices the truth so finely : 



Man's thought is like AntiEus, and must be 

 Touched to the ground of Nature to regain 

 Fresh force, new impulse, else it would remain 

 Dead in the grip of strong Authority. 

 But, once thereon reset, 'tis like a tree. 

 Sap-swollen in spring-time: bonds may not restrain; 

 Nor weight repress; its rootlets rend in twain 

 Dead stones and walls and rocks resistlessly. 



Thine then it was to touch dead thoughts to earth, 

 Till of old dreams sprang new philosophies, 

 From visions systems, and beneath thy spell 

 Swiftly uprose, like magic palaces, — 

 Thyself half-conscious only of thy worth — - 

 Calm priest of a tremendous oracle! 



"Ibid., pp. 300, 301. 



