Wallace had been pondering on the question of the origin of the animals of the Malay Archipelago. He had not the faintest knowledge of what Darwin was doing, but was influenced, of course, like Darwin, by what he read in Malthus. Interesting to relate, he had come to exactly the same conclusions, writing his opinions in the form of an essay. By the strangest sort of coincidence, he sent this essay to Charles Darwin, asking him to read it, and, if he thought it was not altogether too foolish, to send it to Lyell for publication by the Linnæan Society. Darwin read with utter astonishment this essay containing views so absolutely like those that had come to him from his own long series of observations and reflections. With uncommon magnanimity his first impulse was to withhold his own publication entirely, but to this Lyell and Hooker would not for a moment consent. They were determined that Darwin should give them his long series of notebooks as evidence of the independence of his work and that he present to the Linnæan Society, simultaneously with Wallace's paper, one of his own upon the same subject. In this manly form both essays were read at the next meeting of the society. The joint papers provoked instant discussion and prompt opposition. The world at large scarcely admitted a possible doubt of the fixity of species. Men generally believed the idea to be absolutely irreconcilable with their religious faith. Any question of the fact that the species of to-day exist practically as they had been handed down to the earth in the beginning by the Creator himself seemed to most men a direct blow at religion. At this time a very large number of natural scientists were clergymen, hence the opposition had abundant and influential support. The storm grew fiercer and more widespread. The publication in 1859 of Darwin's great book on "The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection or the Preservation of Favored Races in the Struggle for Life" added fuel to the flame.

In 1860 the British Association met in Oxford, and Bishop Wilberforce, the retiring president, in accordance with the custom of the society, gave a summary of the advance of science, especially during the preceding year. Everyone knew perfectly that the bishop would deal with the species question, and that he would handle it severely. Darwin was prevented by his usual ill health from being present at this meeting, but Huxley was there to see that their side of the question received proper attention. The bishop made a lengthy address, in the major portion of which he brought forward entirely worthy objections to Darwin's theories. Toward its close his feelings overmastered him and he departed from his manuscript and unburdened his mind. The lack of stenographers in those days and the tenseness of the moment, which made everyone forget to take down what was said, make it impossible to tell exactly what happened. It seems that Bishop Wilberforce, appealing to the prejudices of his audience, said, in language that now seems ludicrous but then was terribly bitter: "However, any of us might be willing to consider ourselves descended from an ape upon his father's side, no one would so demean his mother's memory as to imagine that she could possibly have shared in this descent." Huxley, who had waited patiently for the close of the bishop's address, saw immediately the fatal mistake. Turning to his companion beside him, he said, "The Lord has delivered the Philistine into my hands," and, rising, he hurled back at the bishop the indignant reply, "I should far rather owe my origin to an ape than I would owe it to a man who would use great gifts to obscure the truth." The bishop had made the mistake, and the struggle was on. Year by year it raged. One by one the scientists, first of England, and then of Germany, took their stand by Darwin. Huxley in England and Haeckel in Germany were the foremost advocates of the Darwinian idea. Long and fiercely the battle raged; slowly and gradually men began to see that, instead of undermining religion, the idea of evolution uplifted creation and made it not a strange happening in the distant past, but a divine activity through all time. But the battle had by no means subsided when one day came the sad news that Darwin's heart, so long feeble, so serious a hindrance to his work, had beaten its last on April 19, 1882.

His own people wished to bury Darwin quietly at his home in Down, but Darwin now belonged to the nation. A petition signed by many public men was sent to the Dean of Westminster, asking that his body might be granted burial in the Abbey. Probably no greater honor can come to man to-day, and fortunately Dean Bradbury was broad-minded enough to acquiesce. So it came to pass that the church that had so long believed him her enemy, that had first so bitterly fought him, came at length to see that he added a new dignity and worth to her faith, and took him to her bosom. Darwin's body lies buried in the Abbey.

In all the glorious company of immortal dead whose earthly frames are gathered in England's great mausoleum, there is no other one who has done so much to modify the mind of thinking man.