in somewhat subtler days to understand how anybody could suppose that the origin of species had anything to do with the origin of being. To us it appears that to tell a man who asks who made his mind that evolution made it, is like telling a man who asks who rolled a cab-wheel over his leg that revolution rolled it. To state the process is scarcely to state the agent. But the position of those who regarded the opening of the “Descent of Man” as the opening of one of the seals of the last days, is a great deal sounder than people have generally allowed. It has been constantly supposed that they were angry with Darwinism because it appeared to do something or other to the Book of Genesis; but this was a pretext or a fancy. They fundamentally rebelled against Darwinism, not because they had a fear that it would affect Scripture, but because they had a fear, not altogether unreasonable or ill-founded, that it would affect morality. Man had been engaged, through innumerable ages, in a struggle with sin. The evil within him was as strong as he could cope [Illustration: ALFRED TENNYSON, 1838 From an early Daguerreotype (Reproduced from “Tennyson: a Memoir,” by kind permission of Messrs. Macmillan & Co., Ltd.) _Engraved by G. J. Stodart_] [Illustration: OLD GRAMMAR SCHOOL, LOUTH The original building, now no longer in existence, where Tennyson was sent to school at the age of seven (Reproduced from “The Laureate’s Country,” by kind permission of Messrs. Seeley & Co., Ltd.) _From a drawing by E. Hull_] with--it was as powerful as a cannonade and as enchanting as a song. But in this struggle he had always had Nature on his side. He might be polluted and agonised, but the flowers were innocent and the hills were strong. All the armoury of life, the spears of the pinewood and the batteries of the lightning, went into battle beside him. Tennyson lived in the hour when, to all mortal appearance, the whole of the physical world deserted to the devil. The universe, governed by violence and death, left man to fight alone, with a handful of myths and memories. Men had now to wander in polluted fields and lift up their eyes to abominable hills. They had to arm themselves against the cruelty of flowers and the crimes of the grass. The first honour, surely, is to those who did not faint in the face of that confounding [Illustration: _From the bust by Chantrey_ ARTHUR H. HALLAM (Reproduced from Hallam’s “Remains,” by kind permission of Mr. John Murray)]