"we," originally adopted as a defence against prosecutions, and now justified by the corporate character of most newspapers; and by the necessity, under which every journalist labors, of avoiding qualifying phrases, as at once tedious and unmeaning. It seems very arrogant to say, we think, and the people of this country think," so-and-so; but it would not be arrogant if the writer said, "I think, and I fancy, as far as I can judge, most Englishmen also think," which is all he means to convey in that compressed phrase. The air of infallibility is nothing more than the air of confident assertion with which almost every debater in the House of Commons, except Mr. Gladstone, speaks, and is neither meant to impose nor, so far as we can read the public mind, imposes. That there was once and to a certain extent is still one kind of arrogance peculiar to journalists, is true enough. By an odd but natural confusion of ideas, the man who knows that he is addressing a hundred thousand readers is apt to fancy there is in him the voice of a hundred thousand men, more especially when he is addressing a government which will not go his

way.

He forgets his own want of certainty that his readers will agree with him, and talks as if he represented the multitude whom he is only addressing. That peculiar form of illusion grew, however, out of the great influence which, for a short time, journals had over opinion, an influence which was owing to the accidental concurrence of great ability on the press and a very narrow suffrage, mainly of one way of thinking, and which is now disappearing, as it is seen that newspapers are more and more read and less and less accepted with implicit confidence. The journalist of to-day is either an expounder or, at most, a debater, who contributes what is in him to the mass of useful discussion upon which government by opinion rests. As such, he is a very useful member of the community, and may even become a powerful one, and is no more to be put down by Lord Sherbrooke than by Mr. Cobden. The latter wished publicly-as, by the way, Robespierre did, in his secret papers -that journals should be confined to news, and should give no opinions. Lord Sherbrooke does not wish that, and is content that the opinions should be published, but cannot conceal his scorn that, when published, anybody should accept them. It is better for every man to form his own views, but why he should not listen to Mr. Lowe in the Times' "leader" as well as to Mr. Lowe speaking for Kidderminster, we confess we do not see. The turns of debate demand speed as much as the necessities of the printing-machine, and the thought expressed in writing ought to be at least as clear as the thought expressed in speech.-The Spectator.

ABNORMAL HABITS IN CATS.-The attention which has been drawn to this subject has resulted in an astonishing mass of evidence as to the liking of cats for raw potatoes. We have received scores of letters from correspondents testifying to this strange habit, which would seem to be rather normal than abnormal. 'Katty" asserts that if raw potato is given in thin slices, and not in too great a quantity at a time, to any cat it will be found that the cases in which they are refused really form the exception; and adds that they are devoured with avidity, especially at certain times of the year. Other correspondents describe eccentricities such as fondness for pickled cabbage, jam, orange peel, tea, etc. The writer once had a pure white Persian cat that was very fond of French ribbon-grass, cating it eagerly out of his hand, and frequently pulling over flower-vases to get at it. This cat used also to imitate the chattering of birds in order to try and induce them to come down from the trees; and in winter-time, when crumbs were thrown out, would wait in ambush for the birds to approach, itself almost indistinguishable in the white snow, and from time to time giving utterance to an excellent imitation of the twittering of the sparrows, which it reproduced only by a most violent effort, its whole body quivering convulsively all the time. The sound proceeded from the larynx, the throat being wide open and the neck stretched out as far as possible. When so engaged nothing could distract its attention, and it could scarcely be removed by force. Mr. Schweitzer writes that he had a cat of solitary and niisanthropic habits which entertained a violent aversion to cat's meat." It is only fair to add that this cat gradually developed signs of insanity, and finally terminated its existence in a fit of madness. Many instances are given of their affection and personal attachment to their masters. Mr. Wilme describes several cats which insisted upon accompanying their masters out of doors, or were with difficulty prevented from so doing, and one cat which used to go a considerable distance toward the railway-station to meet its master on his return from the city, seeming to know the exact time at which he should return. Many instances are also described of their affection for each other, obedience to, parents, etc. Several paragraphs were recently published in this journal concerning the cat's aptitude as a sportsman's companion. An interesting letter received from Mr. L. A. Wood bears very directly upon this subject. He says: About two or three years since, when living in the fen country, an instance occurred which quite staggered my belief in the proverbial aversion of cats to water. Near the house in which I was staying ran one of the arterial drains so common in connection with fen drainage,

"

THE question suggested by the title of this paper is certainly the most important and interesting of the many new subjects with which the intelligence of the present and succeeding generations will have to concern itself. What, men are asking all around us, will be the effect of the philosophy of evolution upon the Christian religion? Some points are indeed already determined, or nearly so. It is clear, for instance, to those who are the most capable of judging correctly, that there is no necessary incompatibility between the two-that is to say, that the influence of the former upon the latter, however overwhelming and perhaps destructive it may ultimately turn out to be, can, by the nature of the case, be indirect only. Evolution may be true, and revelation may be true also; the facts from which Christianity derives its existence are, if they occurred, as much facts of the universe

NEW SERIES.-VOL. XXXIV., No. 5

as those of which science claims to give an exhaustive account. But the question remains: What will be the indirect effect of the one upon the other? What may we reasonably anticipate will be the precise form into which the relations between these two mighty powers will ultimately be cast? Will the predominance of the new philosophy leave room for the existence of the old religion? Will not the need of faith in the unseen be quenched in knowledge of the visible so complete as to be capable of satisfying all the aspirations of man after life and happiness?

The time has, in my judgment, fully arrived when we may reasonably attempt to find some preliminary answer to these questions, and may with fair promise of success trace the action of positive philosophy upon the fortunes of the Gospel of Jesus Christ; and, if I am the first to make the attempt, it is

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only because I am one of the few-so few, indeed, that I know not for certain whether there be another besides myself -to whom both are alike precious and indispensable, so that to seek to find a modus vivendi between the two is a kind of pressing intellectual necessity. And this being so, it follows that I approach the subject as one to whom evolution is a more certain and necessary truth than revelation; and I am afraid it also follows that, in thus attempting to obtain from an examination of the indications of what I may call the intellectual weather a forecast favorable to the prosperity and perpetuity of the Christian creed, I am exposing myself to hostile influences from two very different quarters. The conservative instinct will teach many to distrust a new argument for religion, even while they admit in terms that new developments of thought require new treatment, and also that no one is at present very well satisfied with the old. In the opinion of others, I am well aware that I expose myself to the suspicion of partiality and to that most serious of intellectual vices, unconscious unfairness. But whether I have succeeded or not in stating the case fairly, that I have tried my best to do so will be, I hope, apparent to every reader whose kindly judgment it is at all worth one's while to secure.

We must begin by framing some conception of evolution so stated as to set out as distinctly as possible its relations toward religion, and for this purpose hypothesis is admissible. I suppose, then, that our world was formed by an aggregation of molecular atoms cast off by the sun, or in some way connected with it, and that from these have grown up by natural causation all the varied phenomena of that which we call nature -matter, life, thought, and civilization itself. In this case it will be clear that, from the time of its "creation" until now, nothing has been, so to speak, put into the earth from without save the heat, light, and attracting power of the sun (perhaps solar system" might be more verbally accurate) from which it was in the first instance originated. If it be answered to this that the hypothesis is very far from being verified, I reply that the precise form in which the evolutionary philosophy will ultimately emerge

is purely a question for science, and that for our purpose it is incumbent to deal with evolution in its most rigid, uncompromising, and, to my mind, satisfactory shape. If once more it be asserted that the idealistic statement, "Matter is but the organization of mind," is just as true an account of things as the materialistic, "Mind is the product of matter," I reply once more that this does not affect the present discussion and that the latter has at least the twofold advantage of being the more intelligible in itself, and also of being selected by those who have the best title to speak in the name of evolution.

Now upon this state of things there are certain more superficial aspects of the relationship between evolution and revelation that force themselves upon our attention at once. These I shall state and dismiss in as few words as possible, not because they are not of much importance, but partly because I have touched upon them in my book on the Divine Legation of Christ, and partly because they do not affect the vital points of the subject we have in hand. Still it is essential to our purpose that they should be cleared out of the way.

The first and prominent thought suggested by this statement of the modern scientific creed is that which is most unfavorable to the prospects of the Christian faith. It is at any rate well to know the worst at once; and the worst is summed up in the natural question: How can such a system as this leave room for, or even tolerate the existence of, those events upon which Christianity professes to found its origin and its claims to our allegiance? It must indeed be a case-hardened faith that does not appreciate, at least sometimes, the tremendous force of this overpowering difficulty; assuredly the writer of this would be very insufficiently equipped for his task if he had not felt it in the very inmost depths of his moral being. But then a robust and resolute nature will, if from nothing else, at least from sheer dogged power of contradiction, find within itself an impulse to resist the first blast of such a storm, the first rush of this flood of new thought down ancient channels. It will be apt to remember that the first results of new discoveries are always the most over

whelming, and it will resolve not to yield, at least until the full extent and true direction of the movement be discerned. Blind and foolish resistance to new truths is by no means the same thing as the refusal to surrender old ones at the first blast of the invader's trumpet, and I suspect that the easy readiness of much Christian thought to throw overboard this or that fact that seems to occasion trouble or inconvenience does not, in the long-run, win much respect from scientific minds. Be this as it may, if, remembering that we are at the beginning and not the end of the discovery of evolution, we strive to peer through the driving mist and blinding rain, we may chance to find some gleams of sunshine behind the storm, and may at least comfort ourselves with the reflection that no hurricane lasts forever. Let us then proceed to men tion four points in which the tendency of evolution will be favorable to the Christian religion.

1. It compels us, whether we like it or no (and a great many excellent Christians apparently do not like it at all), to identify religion with revelation. And this it effects by enabling the mind to form a clear and intelligible conception of what is meant by nature, and its consequent incapacity to afford a basis for religion. Nature is the sum total of all that has been derived from the original agglomeration of atoms. It may be described, in the words of one eminent thinker,* as a "realm governed by uni

*The reference is to Professor Huxley's "Life of Hume," p. 44, which I take as the latest statement of the case from the scientific point of view. I agree with nearly everything in it, and I cannot help but think that, from the sheer desire of being fair and clear, he has stated the Christian position much more strongly than most Christian advocates would do it for themselves. But upon one point, which, though merely verbal, is of great importance in the right understanding of the subject, I am at issue with him. I mean his use of the word " nature." No doubt every thinker

is entitled to use words like this in his own sense, provided, of course, he adheres strictly to it. But one must needs sigh for what I may call an international, or rather inter-individual, coinage of words in the language of philosophy; it is, for one thing, often so very difficult to find the proper amount of small change for big words. Professor Huxley's definition of nature is as follows (p. 131): For nature means neither more nor less than

form laws, and based upon impenetrable darkness and eternal silence. In the language of another it is that which can be known as contrasted with the unknowable. If so—and I heartily concur in the definition-then religion, to have any meaning at all for a consistent evolutionist, must be a voice out of that silence, a revelation of that which otherwise must remain unknown. It is of course open to Christian apologists to place the essential foundation of their religion in conscience, or free will, or morality touched with emotion, or in the existence of a spiritual substance called a soul. But it is not possible for them to convince the scientific mind that this deserves the special name of religion, or can lead us up to God, or can satisfy the instinct of worship. Whatever else these, e.g., conscience, may be, they are the products of the original atoms, part of that system of things that falls within that which is; the sum of phenomena presented to experience; the totality of events, past, present, and to come. Every event, therefore, must be taken to be a part of nature, until proof to the contrary is supplied."

Now, if this use of the word were exact or even common, I think the case for so-called miracles' would be stronger than it really is. But, putting this aside, let us try and give to nature a rigidly scientific meaning. It is, first of all, the sum total of phenomena that have existed or occurred within the sphere, both as to their causes and their results, of this

present world-in other words, of that which can be made the subject of knowledge. To this might be added, but doubtfully, all phenomena belonging to other worlds which can be ascertained by astronomical inquiry; it is possible, but hardly natural," to say that the position of a certain star in the heavens, or of a given line in its spectrum, is according to nature. But to extend the use to all events including miracles" (if they happen), is sure to mislead. Miracles-using a bad word for the present under protest-are phenomena presented, indeed, to experience, but proclaiming themselves to be caused by powers of which nature knows nothing; they may be natural, but the nature is not ours, nor that by which our intelligences are conditioned. the mind of science they are extra-natural, in that of religion, supernatural, because they point back to powers not only other, but also higher, than any which obtain in nature as we know it; hence, to speak of miracles as violating the laws of nature is, as Professor Huxley points out, absurd, but not absurd to speak of thein as transcending those laws. The full meaning of all this will appear further on; for the present I am merely indicating in what sense I use these words, which has the double advantage of being both popular and exact.

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