of winding up as much theological commonplace as will keep going for twenty-five minutes; all attempt at elaborating or sifting a subject is impossible; and so we have created for ourselves that class of average preachers whom we hear and do not hear; whom we attend, and do not attend to. This duty of having one or two sermons ready every Sunday, under all circumstances of mind and temper, of business or recreation, of indisposition or depression, is the most intolerable tyranny conceivable, until the victim of it learns to do it in a slovenly and inefficient way, so that it comes to weigh lightly upon his conscience and his time.'1 On the other hand, the poor hearers inevitably have the first sermon driven out of their heads by the second, and it is surely rather hard that a man who is anxious to join in singing the Church's evensong should perforce be kept in to listen to a sermon as well. The evil is of course greater in the country than in the towns. Where people are not known to everybody there is greater freedom, and to go out before the sermon does not require the same moral courage as it does in the country. But in a village church what an ordeal it is! Who that has tried it does not know the sudden and awful stillness that pervades the building; even the buzz of the school children is hushed, and as the unfortunate offender walks down the aisle he is stared out of countenance by the amused, astonished, or shocked members of the congregation. Cannot we have more elasticity and freedom in our system? And if we must have two sermons at least preached on every Sunday, cannot we make it quite clear that we have no wish or expectation that everybody should stay for them? If a short pause were made, or some interval allowed to elapse between the afternoon service and the sermon, and it was fully understood that the two were separate, and that people were free to come in or go out between them, something would be gained, and we should at least be freed from the tyranny imposed by modern custom and conventionalities. Lastly, in the interest of both parties, viz., the overworked clergy and the long-suffering laity, we are bold to suggest the adoption of the following plan:-Where a man is single-handed, and the exigences of the place or congregation demand the double sermon from him, why should he not have the courage to preach the same sermon morning and afternoon? It would be a bold thing to do, and perhaps at first would be unpopular, but a little thought will show that there is a good deal to be urged in its favour. (1.) It would have the great advantage of enabling the preacher to con 1 Modern Preaching, p. 150. centrate his strength on one sermon instead of frittering it away upon two; and that one sermon would be all the more carefully and thoroughly prepared if the preacher had before him the consciousness that it would have to be delivered twice on the same day to the same people. He would soon discover and strike out the weak parts which would not bear repetition, and thus the diminution of quantity would result, we believe, in a real improvement of quality. (2.) It would be no less of a gain to the hearer to listen to one good thoughtful sermon, and to have the opportunity of hearing it a second time, and so a chance of carrying away a little more than he ordinarily does. It is painful to think of the thousands of sermons that are preached every Sunday, and of the little impression they make. How very little of them is remembered even on Monday morning. But a man might carry away some definite impression after hearing one sermon twice, whereas after hearing two disconnected ones on entirely different subjects, if he thinks about it at all his recollections are sure to be confused and misty in the highest degree. It is given to very few to recollect that which they have only heard once, and with a large number of people the second sermon simply has the effect of driving the first out of their heads. Thus we believe that the more thoughtful and attentive portion of the congregation would welcome the adoption of the plan advocated. It was only the other day that we heard of a friend who had gone with a clergyman to two different churches on the same day, and had heard the same sermon from him at each service, and his remark afterwards was this, 'I'm so glad I heard that sermon twice, as I understand it now.' If it is objected that the morning and evening congregation is often composed of very different elements, we would urge in reply, that (1) it is not intended to advocate the universal adoption of this plan; it is simply recommended to overworked clergy, who are single-handed, and thus forced to preach twice, and in ordinary cases to much the same people; and (2) if there be some difference in the character of the congregations, it would not be difficult, while preaching what is practically the same sermon, to vary it sufficiently to meet the wants of both, especially if it is preached at one time from the written copy and at the other delivered extempore. ART. VI.-CHARLES DARWIN AND EVOLUTION. 1. The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection; or, The Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life. By CHARLES DARWIN, M.A., LL.D., F.R.S. Sixth Edition, with Additions and Corrections to 1872. Twenty-fourth Thousand. (London, 1882.) 2. The Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication. icatio By the same Author. Second Edition, revised. 3. The Descent of Man and Selection in Relation to Sex. By the same Author. Second Edition, revised. Thirteenth Thousand. 4. The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals. By the same Author. Ninth Thousand. 5. The Various Contrivances by which Orchids are Fertilized by Insects. By the same Author. Second Edition, revised. 6. The Movements and Habits of Climbing Plants. By the same Author. Second Edition, revised. 7. The Power of Movement in Plants. By the same Author, assisted by FRANCIS DARWIN. (1880.) ON April 19 last died Charles Darwin in his seventy-fourth year, by general acknowledgment the greatest scientist of the age, and the man whose influence upon the world of thought not only exceeds that of any of his contemporaries, but can scarcely be paralleled by more than one or two instances in the centuries which we call modern. If the philosophical basis of thought be regarded, the far-reaching, though in relation to the mass of mankind indirect, influence of Kant may, perhaps, be compared with that of Darwin. If an example of the more direct influence upon popular thought be sought for, we shall have to go back to Luther to find the parallel. It is publicly announced that Mr. Darwin has left his own autobiography amongst his papers. To its appearance, together with such additional details of his life and of his thought as may be given to the world at some future day, we shall look forward with very great interest. Until the life is published it would be premature, as it seems to us, to attempt to add anything to the sketches of Mr. Darwin's career which have already been published, and with which most of our readers are probably familiar. But his scientific writings are in our hands, and a few of the thoughts which their perusal suggests may not be out of place in these pages. Whatever may be the ultimate verdict with regard to some of his views, Mr. Darwin's scientific work has secured him a reputation that in all probability will endure throughout the civilized world for many generations to come. It may be said of him, if of any one— 'Exegit monumentum ære perennius.' A man of such acknowledged eminence, paradoxical as it may seem to say so, is peculiarly the product, the child, of the age to which he belongs; and this fact may assist us to underderstand our own age and to anticipate, in part, the view which posterity will take of its distinguishing characteristics. If excellence in literature, the expression of the noblest thought in the best language, was the dominant intellectual aim three centuries ago, Shakspeare, the product of that age, was also its master-mind, and has remained its representative. The subsequent tendency of thought has been to develop the passionate desire to arrive at scientific truth, the desire to follow the operations of nature in her most hidden recesses, and to understand the constitution of the material world. What was scarcely more than a prophecy and an ideal three centuries ago, the ideal of scientific inquiry and of the investigator of nature, has gradually become reality. From Bacon's writings we might gather most of the essential characters of the ideal man of science, and it would not be possible to find the lineaments of such a conception more faithfully and fully presented than by him who forms the subject of this paper. Recognizing, as we do, that every truth is a portion of Divine light, and believing, as we do, in God's providential government of the world, we must hold that the appearance on the terrestrial stage of a commanding scientific genius is a Divinely ordered means for the accomplishment of a great Divine purpose. And if that which presents itself as new light demands a change in our previous conceptions of things which, at the best, we but saw through a glass, darkly,' it is our duty in this case, as in others, to impartially consider its claims to be one of those 'good and perfect gifts' which come down 'from the Father of lights,' as it is our duty to 'prove' or rather to test 'all things,' and to 'hold fast that which is good.' 'Man should mount on each New height in view; the help whereby he mounts, Since all things suffer change save God the truth. Bacon did not exaggerate when he spoke of the extreme subtlety of nature, and of the patience, the concentration, the directness of aim and the perfect honesty which must be possessed by those who seek to track her footsteps if any worthy result is to be gained. But he could not imagine the immense extent of territory which the exposition of nature that we call science would cover within a few centuries. He cannot have conceived the vast amount of detail which the man of science would be required to master and to coordinate. He could not anticipate in any adequate measure. the necessity under which investigators would lie of division of labour. As an original explorer of nature's secrets, Mr. Darwin is unsurpassed, we may say, perhaps, unrivalled, in regard to those qualities of mind which Bacon perceived to be indispensable. As a patient accumulator of facts, an acute experimenter, a ready interpreter of phenomena, as an unswerving, unbiassed searcher for truth, he was a man after Bacon's own heart. In the industry and pains with which he acquainted himself with the results of studies pursued by other diligent labourers, and in his quickness to perceive the evidential force of facts recorded by others, he is eminently typical of the true man of science, as he is actually required to be in the presence of that ample page of knowledge, 'rich with the spoils of time,' which has been unrolled since Bacon's days. In his frank and generous acknowledgment of the merits of other writers, whether they are hostile or favourable to his own views, in his earnest endeavour to state those views fairly, his candid admission of difficulties wherever he sees them, and his unhesitating confession of ignorance when his investigation of secondary causes has reached its limits and he can no longer see his way, he is the model of a scientific pioneer. It was by the aid of his admirable moral qualities, as well as by the abundance and weight of his arguments, and the skill with which he marshalled them, that he won respectful attention to his theories, however novel, from all who were qualified to judge. It was these qualities which largely helped to win for the theory with which the name of Darwin is, and always will be, most commonly associated-that of the Origin of Species by Natural Selection-the considerable amount of acceptance, which it or some form of it has received, notwithstanding that this theory ran counter to the traditional opi |