Moreover, judging from the vivacity of the duke's reply that some of
the shafts of the first article must have struck nearer home than the
pulpit of St. Paul's, he was induced to read "The Reign of Law," the
second chapter of which, dealing with the nature of "Law," he now
criticised sharply as] "a sort of 'summa' of pseudo-scientific
philosophy," [with its confusions of law and necessity, law and force,]
"law in the sense, not merely of a rule, but of a cause." [(Cf. his
treatment of the subject 24 years before, volume 1.)

He wound up with some banter upon the Duke's picture of a scientific
Reign of Terror, whereby, it seemed, all men of science were compelled
to accept the Darwinian faith, and against which Huxley himself was
preparing to rebel, as if:--]

Forsooth, I am supposed to be waiting for the signal of "revolt," which
some fiery spirits among these young men are to raise before I dare
express my real opinions concerning questions about which we older men
had to fight in the teeth of fierce public opposition and obloquy--of
something which might almost justify even the grandiloquent epithet of
a Reign of Terror--before our excellent successors had left school.

[Here for a while the debate ceased. But in the September number of the
"Nineteenth Century" the Duke of Argyll returned to the fray with an
article called "A Great Lesson," in which he attempted to offer
evidence in support of his assertions concerning the scientific reign
of terror. The two chief pieces of evidence adduced were Bathybius and
Dr. (now Sir J.) Murray's theory of coral reefs. The former was
instanced as a blunder due to the desire of finding support for the
Darwinian theory in the existence of this widespread primordial life;
the latter as a case in which a new theory had been systematically