1 88 LUCK, OR CUNNING? 



there is not some other Mr. Darwin, some other 

 " Origin of Species," some other Professors Huxley, 

 Tyndal, and Ray Lankester, and whether in each case 

 some malicious fiend has not palmed off a counterfeit 

 upon me that differs toto calo from the original. I felt 

 exactly the same when I read Goethe's " Wilhelm 

 Meister; " I could not believe my eyes, which nevertheless 

 told me that the dull diseased trash I was so toilsomely 

 reading was a work which was commonly held to be 

 one of the great literary mastM-pieces of the world. It 

 seemed to me that there must be some other Goethe 

 and some other Wilhelm Meister. Indeed I find my- 

 self so depressingly out of harmony with the prevailing 

 not opinion only, but spirit — if, indeed, the Huxleys, 

 Tyndals, Miss Buckleys, Ray Lankesters, and Romanes's 

 express the prevailing spirit as accurately as they 

 appear to do — that at times I find it difficult to believe 

 I am not the victim of hallucination; nevertheless I 

 know that either every canon, whether of criticism or 

 honourable conduct, which I have learned to respect 

 is an impudent swindle, suitable for the cloister only, 

 and having no force or application in the outside 

 world ; or else that Mr. Darwin and his supporters are 

 misleading the public to the full as much as the 

 theologians of whom they speak at times so dis- 

 approvingly. They sin, moreover, with incomparably 

 less excuse. Right as they doubtless are in much, 

 and much as we doubtless owe them (so we owe much 

 also to the theologians, and they also are right in 

 much), they are giving way to a temper which cannot 

 be indulged with impunity. I know the great power 



