It was obvious that both the general theory of evolution and its extension to man in particular must meet from the first with the most determined resistance on the part of the Churches. Both were in flagrant contradiction to the Mosaic story of creation, and other Biblical dogmas that were involved in it, and are still taught in our elementary schools. It is creditable to the shrewdness of the theologians and their associates, the metaphysicians, that they at once rejected Darwinism, and made a particularly energetic resistance in their writings to its chief consequence, the descent of man from the ape. This resistance seemed the more justified and hopeful as, for seven or eight years after Darwin's appearance, few biologists accepted his theory, and the general attitude amongst them was one of cold scepticism. I can well testify to this from my own experience. When I first openly advocated Darwin's theory at a scientific congress at Stettin in 1863, I was almost alone, and was blamed by the great majority for taking up seriously so fantastic a theory, "the dream of an after-dinner nap," as the Göttinger zoologist, Keferstein, called it. The general attitude towards Nature fifty years ago was so different from that we find everywhere to-day, that it is difficult to convey a clear idea of it to a young scientist or philosopher. The great question of creation, the problem how the various species of plants and animals came into the world, and how man came into being, did not exist yet in exact science. There was, in fact, no question of it.