THE EXCISED " MY'S." 245 



SO he buried his face, ostrich-like, in the sand. I 

 know no more pitiable figure in either literature or 

 science. 



As I write these lines (July 1886) I see a para- 

 graph in Nature which I take it is intended to convey 

 the information that Mr. Francis Darwin's life and 

 letters of his father will appear shortly. I can form 

 no idea whether Mr. P. Darwin's forthcoming work is 

 likely to appear before this present volume; still less 

 can I conjecture what it may or may not contain ; 

 but I can give the reader a criterion by which to test 

 the good faith with which it is written. If Mr. P. 

 Darwin puts the distinctive feature that differentiates 

 Mr. C. Darwin from his predecessors clearly before his 

 readers, enabling them to seize and carry it away 

 with them once for all — if he shows no desire to 

 shirk this question, but, on the contrary, faces it and 

 throws light upon it, then we shall know that his 

 work is sincere, whatever its shortcomings may be in 

 other respects ; and when people are doing their best 

 to help us and make us understand aU that they under- 

 stand themselves, a great deal may be forgiven them. 

 If, on the other hand, we find much talk about the 

 wonderful light which Mr. Charles Darwin threw on 

 evolution by his theory of natural selection, without 

 any adequate attempt to make us understand the 

 difference between the natural selection, say, of Mr. 

 Patrick Matthew, and that of his more famous suc- 

 cessor, then we may know that we are being trifled 

 with ; and that an attempt is being again made to 

 throw dust in our eyes. 



