In England Darwin’s repute as a traveller and geologist, and the personal respect felt for him, had some effect. Then came a small circle of friends, Hooker, Huxley, even, to some extent, the aged Lyell, who had seen the manuscript before publication, and had at once started a more or less brisk propaganda. In the first six months three editions of the work were sold, so that it was read by a few thousand men. As a rule there was at that time less dread of “natural philosophy” in England than elsewhere. But pious minds were alarmed at the “struggle against God” that was based on the exact data of zoology, botany, and geology. Darwin had made that the salient point, as a glance at the work shows, since he closes with a reference to the Deity. He said it was a “grand” view of the Creator to suppose that he had created only the first forms of life on the earth, and then left it to natural laws to develop these germs into the various species of animals and plants. It was prudent to restrict the theistic conflict. God was merely excluded from the origin of species. Natural selection did not apply to the further problem of the origin of the primitive life-forms and of life itself. Theism could retain them. There was something soothing psychologically in the phrase, which was often attacked subsequently, and did not represent Darwin’s later views. It was characteristic of Darwin’s gentle disposition. He did not start out from the position that God does not exist, and that we must, at all costs, seek natural causes for the origin of things. He had not abandoned the idea of the clerical profession because he had lost belief in God, but because he had more attraction for catching butterflies and shooting birds. Still a firm theist, he had been convinced, as a candid geologist, by Lyell’s demonstration that God had had nothing to do with the moulding of hill and valley or the distribution of land and water. As a candid zoologist and botanist he had then convinced himself that the analogous changes in the animal and plant worlds had needed no divine intervention. As yet, however, he saw no reason to draw more radical conclusions. He sought, as far as honour permitted, a certain peace of thought by asking whether this indirect action of the personal Ruler over such vast provinces did not enhance the idea of him instead of detracting from it. Goethe would have been prepared, on his principles, to recognise the step taken in the direction of natural law as a victory for our increasing knowledge of and reverence for the Deity. For him a natural law was the will of God; if natural selection created species, he would have seen merely the will of God in selection. But Darwin had not yet advanced so far, and still less could this be expected in his pious readers.