In this, as

flict is, and what form it assumes. in many conflicts, there is much more din and tumult, than damage. We shall by and by hear much less of conflict than we are hearing at present. Meanwhile, however, the work is considerable which needs to be done in clearing the field, tracing boundaries, and disclosing the exact position of parties. In the ruder warfare of nations, this clearing work is undertaken by the combatants themselves, and if not accomplished by preliminary measures, it is at length achieved by the actual events of the struggle. But in this case, it may be done quietly enough by noncombatants, while it may contribute largely to the restricting of the conflict, and the establishment of peace. This I desire to attempt, in the hope that some service may be rendered both to the scientific, and non-scientific, by contributing towards a general understanding of the actual position of affairs. A quiet survey of events occurring during the last twenty-five years or so, which have influenced the relations of science and religion, may suffice to convince us that there has been on both sides needless planting of batteries, and pouring forth of shot. In many

cases, the shot has only sunk into sand banks with no other result than heavy expenditure; in other cases, it has only shattered timber defences which were going at any rate, and soon to be abandoned. The worst result has been that the whole district around has been thrown into trouble under fear of disastrous results. This description must be held to apply to outbreaks of theological fury, as well as of scientific. I apprehend that there are few friends of religion conversant with the higher phases of intellectual life during the period to which reference is here made, who will not grant that scientific theories have been assailed with undue severity, and quite needless apprehension, under the influence of religious zeal. On the other hand, it is equally beyond dispute that there has been in some scientific quarters an eagerness to interpret scientific theories in a manner adverse to theological belief, and often with undisguised pleasure in the task, as if some real gain to thought and practical interests were to be secured by injury to religion. The best work on both sides has been done quite apart from these outbreaks of antagonism. But it would be unwise to omit reference to them here, or

to overlook the lesson they convey, all the more that both sides admit reasonable ground for regret. There has been, on the one hand, too great readiness in charging an atheistic conclusion as the logical result of scientific theory; and, on the other, too hasty an assumption that newly recognized facts must prove damaging to Christian faith. Detailed illustration would be in every sense undesirable here, but outstanding examples will readily occur. Take the theory of the Development of Species by Natural Selection, to which detailed reference will be made hereafter, which has a great multitude of facts to favor it, and at the same time a mass of facts presenting most serious logical difficulties; it is obvious that even if this theory were accepted in the form in which it is at present propounded, not only would the rational basis for belief in the Divine existence and government not be affected by it, but the demand on a Sovereign Intelligence would be intensified. The contrast in the form of the general question may be represented thus: in the one case, to account for the origin of varied forms of life entirely distinct and independent; in the other, to account for an ori

gin in the simplest germinal form, or in a few primordial forms, which shall nevertheless provide for the appearance of all the varieties of species of animal life now known to us. In presenting the latter hypothesis, science presses into notice a much greater perplexity affecting the origin of the universe, originating a difficulty towards the solution of which it is altogether unable to offer the slightest contribution. In this single illustration, there is much to convince theologians and scientific men that each division of thinkers will best fulfil its own part, and most honor religion and science, by working unreservedly on data within its own reach, without apprehension as to ultimate conflict.

From the other side, it is not difficult to find evidence that continued inquiry and reflection have led to the abatement, if not the actual withdrawal, of scientific hypotheses which seemed at variance with common belief, and which might be taken as adverse to religious thought. For example, as a branch of the inquiry connected with the theory of development of species, and coming directly upon the position of man in the scale of being, we had for a time a wonderful amount

of observation, description, and discussion concerning monkeys and apes. Laborious inquiries became provocative of grotesque fancy. In the train of science came the workers who minister to the popular imagination, and there appeared a whole series of comic pictures, amusing narratives, and even musical compositions, representing monkeys and apes as taking part in human occupations. These have left their testimony to the power of scientific hypothesis in determining the thought and interest of the time during which they find favor. It was demonstrated incontestably that the anatomical structure of the ape was much more like to that of man than the structure of the dog, or the horse; and that the brain of the ape was so like in form and arrangement to the human brain, that it might be represented as a smaller and undeveloped example of the human brain. But when the work of observation and description had been well nigh completed; when the work of deliberate thinking was commenced with the assurance that the facts were pretty fully and fairly before us, there came a considerable abatement for the enthusiasm of scientific speculation in the new