of the past, that the plants of to-day are the
modified plants of yesterday, that civilized man of to-day is the
savage of yesterday and the tree-dweller of the day before, is no
longer debatable to the great mass of biologists. To older men
hampered by the convictions of an earlier age this dictum of modern
science may still be a little uncertain.

The working biologists of the world have no doubt. They differ
radically as to what brought about this change, they dispute
vigorously as to the rate of change, but as to the fact of the change
there is no difference of opinion. Under these conditions the thinking
man is out of joint with the times when he sets himself against the
idea of evolution. He may be so immersed in other lines as to be
indifferent to the problem; but when he is hostile to it, he marks
himself as clearly against his day. Many have been against their day
and have been right. Very great men have often been against the
opinions of their times and have come to be leaders of the world's
later thought. But ordinary men in ordinary times who think
differently on a special subject from the specialists of the times are
not very likely to be right. It is safe for most of us to accept as
true an opinion on which specialists on that subject agree. It seems
clear to me then that the thinking man to-day has in the matter of
evolution a double duty. He must become reasonably acquainted with the
theory that so largely affects all present knowledge, and he must
wrestle with the theory until it no longer hinders the hold of
religion upon his life. He may be perfectly sure that he does not
clearly understand both, but he must get them into reasonable
concordance before he can be quite at peace.

Truth is true no matter how it is acquired. There can be no doubt as
to the essential truth of religion: its fruits proclaim its worth.
There can be no doubt as to the essential truth of evolution; the
clarity it has brought into the sciences is the evidence of the value
of the conception. That it will persist in its present form, that it
will be unchanged by later additions to our knowledge is of course
unthinkable. It may be incomplete, it may be undeveloped, but so far
as it goes it contains the truth. Under these conditions, how can we
bring peace into our own mind? These two important provinces seem so
often to be at variance. The difficulty may lie in one of two places.
In the first place, each truth may be stated in t