PART II.--Do Species wear out, and, if not, why not?--Implication of the

Darwinian Theory that Species are unlimited in Existence.--Examination of

an Opposite Doctrine maintained by Naudin.--Evidence that Species may die

out from Inherent Causes only indirect and inferential from Arrangements to

secure Wide Breeding--Physiological Import of Sexes--Doubtful whether

Sexual Reproduction with Wide Breeding is a Preventive or only a Palliative

of Decrepitude in Species.-- Darwinian Hypothesis must suppose the Former

ARTICLE XIII

EVOLUTIONARY TELEOLOGY

The Opposition between Morphology and Teleology reconciled by Darwinism, and

the Latter reinstated--Character of the New Teleology.--Purpose and Design

distinguished--Man has no Monopoly of the Latter.--Inference of Design from

Adaptation and Utility legitimate; also in Hume's Opinion irresistible--The

Principle of Design, taken with Specific Creation, totally insufficient and

largely inapplicable; but, taken with the Doctrine of the Evolution of

Species in Nature, applicable, pertinent, and, moreover,

necessary.--Illustrations from Abortive Organs, supposed Waste of Being,

etc.--All Nature being of a Piece, Design must either pervade or be absent

from the Whole.--Its Absence not to be inferred because the Events take

place in Nature--Illustration of the Nature and Province of Natural

Selection.--It picks out, but does not originate Variations; these not a

Product of, but a Response to, the Environment; not physical, but

physiological--Adaptations in Nature not explained by Natural Selection

apart from Design or Final Cause--Absurdity of associating Design only with

Miracle--What is meant by Nature.--The Tradition of the DIVINE in Nature,

testified to by Aristotle, comes down to our Day with Undiminished Value

PREFACE

These papers are now collected at the request of friends and correspondents,

who think that they may be useful; and two new essays are added. Most of

the articles were written as occasion called for them within the past

sixteen years, and contributed to various periodicals, with little thought

of their forming a series, and none of ever bringing them together into a

volume, although one of them (the third) was once reprinted in a pamphlet

form. It is, therefore, inevitable that there should be considerable

iteration in the argument, if not in the language. This could not be

eliminated except by recasting the whole, which was neither practicable nor

really desirable. It is better that they should record, as they do, the

writer's freely-expressed thoughts upon the subject at the time; and to

many readers there may be some advantage in going more than once, in

different directions, over the same ground. If these essays were to be

written now, some things might be differently expressed or qualified, but

probably not so as to affect materially any important point. Accordingly,

they are here reprinted unchanged, except by a few merely verbal

alterations made in proof-reading, and the striking out of one or two

superfluous or immaterial passages. A very few additional notes or

references are appended.

To the last article but one a second part is now added, and the more

elaborate Article XIII is wholly new.

If it be objected that some of these pages are written in a lightness of

vein not quite congruous with the gravity of the subject and the

seriousness of its issues, the excuse must be that they were written with

perfect freedom, most of them as anonymous contributions to popular

journals, and that an argument may not be the less sound or an exposition

less effective for being playful. Some of the essays, however, dealing with

points of speculative scientific interest, may redress the balance, and be

thought sufficiently heavy if not solid.

To the objection likely to be made, that they cover only a part of the

ground, it can only be replied that they do not pretend to be systematic or

complete. They are all essays relating in some way or other to the subject

which has been, during these years, of paramount interest to naturalists,

and not much less so to most thinking people. The first appeared between

sixteen and seventeen years ago, immediately after the publication of

Darwin's "Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection," as a review of

that volume, which, it was then foreseen, was to initiate a revolution in

general scientific opinion. Long before our last article was written, it

could be affirmed that the general doctrine of the derivation of species

(to put it comprehensively) has prevailed over that of specific creation,

at least to the extent of being the received and presumably in some sense

true conception. Far from undertaking any general discussion of evolution,

several even of Mr. Darwin's writings have not been noticed, and topics

which have been much discussed elsewhere are not here adverted to. This

applies especially to what may be called deductive evolution--a subject

which lay beyond the writer's immediate scope, and to which neither the

bent of his mind nor the line of his studies has fitted him to do justice.

If these papers are useful at all, it will be as showing how these new views

of our day are regarded by a practical naturalist, versed in one department

only (viz., Botany), most interested in their bearings upon its special

problems, one accustomed to direct and close dealings with the facts in

hand, and disposed to rise from them only to the consideration of those

general questions upon which they throw or from which they receive

illustration.

Then as to the natural theological questions which (owing to circumstances

needless now to be recalled or explained) are here throughout brought into

what most naturalists, and some other readers, may deem undue prominence,

there are many who may be interested to know how these increasingly

prevalent views and their tendencies are regarded by one who is

scientifically, and in his own fashion, a Darwinian, philosophically a

convinced theist, and religiously an acceptor of the "creed commonly called

the Nicene," as the exponent of the Christian faith.

"Truth emerges sooner from error than from confusion," says Bacon; and

clearer views than commonly prevail upon the points at issue regarding

"religion and science" are still sufficiently needed to justify these

endeavors.

BOTANIC GARDEN, CAMBRIDGE, MASS., June, 1876.

______________________________________

I

THE ORIGIN OF SPECIES BY MEANS OF

NATURAL SELECTION [I-1]

(American Journal of Science and Arts, March, 1860)

This book is already exciting much attention. Two American editions are

announced, through which it will become familiar to many of our readers,

before these pages are issued. An abstract of the argument--for "the whole

volume is one long argument," as the author states--is unnecessary in such

a case; and it would be difficult to give by detached extracts. For the

volume itself is an abstract, a prodromus of a detailed work upon which the

author has been laboring for twenty years, and which "will take two or

three more years to complete." It is exceedingly compact; and although

useful summaries are appended to the several chapters, and a general

recapitulation contains the essence of the whole, yet much of the aroma

escapes in the treble distillation, or is so concentrated that the flavor

is lost to the general or even to the scientific reader. The volume

itself--the proof-spirit--is just condensed enough for its purpose. It will

be far more widely read, and perhaps will make deeper impression, than the

elaborate work might have done, with all its full details of the facts upon

which the author's sweeping conclusions have been grounded. At least it is

a more readable book: but all the facts that can be mustered in favor of

the theory are still likely to be needed.

Who, upon a single perusal, shall pass judgment upon a work like this, to

which twenty of the best years of the life of a most able naturalist have

been devoted? And who among those naturalists who hold a position that

entitles them to pronounce summarily upon the subject, can be expected to

divest himself for the nonce of the influence of received and favorite

systems? In fact, the controversy now opened is not likely to be settled in

an off-hand way, nor is it desirable that it should be. A spirited conflict

among opinions of every grade must ensue, which--to borrow an illustration

from the doctrine of the book before us--may be likened to the conflict in

Nature among races in the struggle for life, which Mr. Darwin describes;

through which the views most favored by facts will be developed and tested

by "Natural Selection," the weaker ones be destroyed in the process, and

the strongest in the long-run alone survive.

The duty of reviewing this volume in the American Journal of Science would

naturally devolve upon the principal editor,' whose wide observation and

profound knowledge of various departments of natural history, as well as of

geology, particularly qualify him for the task. But he has been obliged to

lay aside his pen, and to seek in distant lands the entire repose from

scientific labor so essential to the restoration of his health--a

consummation devoutly to be wished, and confidently to be expected.

Interested as Mr. Dana would be in this volume, he could not be expected to

accept this doctrine.

Views so idealistic as those upon which his "Thoughts upon Species" [I-2]

are grounded, will not harmonize readily with a doctrine so thoroughly

naturalistic as that of Mr. Darwin. Though it is just possible that one who

regards the kinds of elementary matter, such as oxygen and hydrogen, and

the definite compounds of these elementary matters, and their compounds

again, in the mineral kingdom, as constituting species, in the same sense,

fundamentally, as that of animal and vegetable species, might admit an

evolution of one species from another in the latter as well as the former

case.

Between the doctrines of this volume and those of the other great

naturalist whose name adorns the title-page of this journal, the widest

divergence appears. It is interesting to contrast the two, and, indeed, is

necessary to our purpose; for this contrast brings out most prominently,

and sets in strongest light and shade, the main features of the theory of

the origination of species by means of Natural Selection.

The ordinary and generally-received view assumes the independent, specific

creation of each kind of plant and animal in a primitive stock, which

reproduces its like from generation to generation, and so continues the

species. Taking the idea of species from this perennial succession of

essentially similar individuals, the chain is logically traceable back to a

local origin in a single stock, a single pair, or a single individual, from

which all the individuals composing the species have proceeded by natural

generation. Although the similarity of progeny to parent is fundamental in

the conception of species, yet the likeness is by no means absolute; all

species vary more or less, and some vary remarkably--partly from the

influence of altered circumstances, and partly (and more really) from

unknown constitutional causes which altered conditions favor rather than

originate. But these variations are supposed to be mere oscillations from a

normal state, and in Nature to be limited if not transitory; so that the

primordial differences between species and species at their beginning have

not been effaced, nor largely obscured, by blending through variation.

Consequently, whenever two reputed species are found to blend in Nature

through a series of intermediate forms, community of origin is inferred,

and all the forms, however diverse, are held to belong to one species.

Moreover, since bisexuality is the rule in Nature (which is practically

carried out, in the long-run, far more generally than has been suspected),

and the heritable qualities of two distinct individuals are mingled in the

offspring, it is supposed that the general sterility of hybrid progeny

interposes an effectual barrier against the blending of the original

species by crossing.

From this generally-accepted view the well-known theory of Agassiz and the

recent one of Darwin diverge in exactly opposite directions.

That of Agassiz differs fundamentally from the ordinary view only in this,

that it discards the idea of a common descent as the real bond of union

among the individuals of a species, and also the idea of a local

origin--supposing, instead, that each species originated simultaneously,

generally speaking, over the whole geographical area it now occupies or has

occupied, and in perhaps as many individuals as it numbered at any

subsequent period.

Mr. Darwin, on the other hand, holds the orthodox view of the descent of

all the individuals of a species not only from a local birthplace, but from

a single ancestor or pair; and that each species has extended and

established itself, through natural agencies, wherever it could; so that

the actual geographical distribution of any species is by no means a

primordial arrangement, but a natural result. He goes farther, and this

volume is a protracted argument intended to prove that the species we

recognize have not been independently created, as such, but have descended,

like varieties, from other species. Varieties, on this view, are incipient

or possible species: species are varieties of a larger growth and a wider

and earlier divergence from the parent stock; the difference is one of

degree, not of kind.

The ordinary view--rendering unto Caesar the things that are

Caesar's--looks to natural agencies for the actual distribution and

perpetuation of species, to a supernatural for their origin.

The theory of Agassiz regards the origin of species and their present

general distribution over the world as equally primordial, equally

supernatural; that of Darwin, as equally derivative, equally natural.

The theory of Agassiz, referring as it does the phenomena both of origin

and distribution directly to the Divine will--thus removing the latter with

the former out of the domain of inductive science (in which efficient cause

is not the first, but the last word)--may be said to be theistic to excess.

The contrasted theory is not open to this objection. Studying the facts and

phenomena in reference to proximate causes, and endeavoring to trace back

the series of cause and effect as far as possible, Darwin's aim and

processes are strictly scientific, and his endeavor, whether successful or

futile, must be regarded as a legitimate attempt to extend the domain of

natural or physical science. For, though it well may be that "organic forms

have no physical or secondary cause," yet this can be proved only

indirectly, by the failure of every attempt to refer the phenomena in

question to causal laws. But, however originated, and whatever be thought

of Mr. Darwin's arduous undertaking in this respect, it is certain that

plants and animals are subject from their birth to physical influences, to

which they have to accommodate themselves as they can. How literally they

are "born to trouble," and how incessant and severe the struggle for life

generally is, the present volume graphically describes. Few will deny that

such influences must have gravely affected the range and the association of

individuals and species on the earth's surface. Mr. Darwin thinks that,

acting upon an inherent predisposition to vary, they have sufficed even to

modify the species themselves and produce the present diversity. Mr.

Agassiz believes that they have not even affected the geographical range

and the actual association of species, still less their forms; but that

every adaptation of species to climate, and of species to species, is as

aboriginal, and therefore as inexplicable, as are the organic forms

themselves.

Who shall decide between such extreme views so ably maintained on either

hand, and say how much of truth there may be in each? The present reviewer

has not the presumption to undertake such a task. Having no prepossession

in favor of naturalistic theories, but struck with the eminent ability of

Mr. Darwin's work, and charmed with its fairness, our humbler duty will be

performed if, laying aside prejudice as much as we can, we shall succeed in

giving a fair account of its method and argument, offering by the way a few

suggestions, such as might occur to any naturalist of an inquiring mind. An

editorial character for this article must in justice be disclaimed. The

plural pronoun is employed not to give editorial weight, but to avoid even

the appearance of egotism, and also the circumlocution which attends a

rigorous adherence to the impersonal style.

We have contrasted these two extremely divergent theories, in their broad

statements. It must not be inferred that they have no points nor ultimate

results in common.

In the first place, they practically agree in upsetting, each in its own

way, the generally-received definition of species, and in sweeping away the

ground of their objective existence in Nature. The orthodox conception of

species is that of lineal descent: all the descendants of a common parent,

and no other, constitute a species; they have a certain identity because of

their descent, by which they are supposed to be recognizable. So

naturalists had a distinct idea of what they meant by the term species, and

a practical rule, which was hardly the less useful because difficult to

apply in many cases, and because its application was indirect: that is, the

community of origin had to be inferred from the likeness; such degree of

similarity, and such only, being held to be con-specific as could be shown

or reasonably inferred to be compatible with a common origin. And the usual

concurrence of the whole body of naturalists (having the same data before

them) as to what forms are species attests the value of the rule, and also

indicates some real foundation for it in Nature. But if species were created

in numberless individuals over broad spaces of territory, these individuals

are connected only in idea, and species differ from varieties on the one

hand, and from genera, tribes, etc., on the other, only in degree; and no

obvious natural reason remains for fixing upon this or that degree as

specific, at least no natural standard, by which the opinions of different

naturalists may be correlated. Species upon this view are enduring, but

subjective and ideal. Any three or more of the human races, for example, are

species or not species, according to the bent of the naturalist's mind.

Darwin's theory brings us the other way to the same result. In his view,

not only all the individuals of a species are descendants of a common

parent, but of all the related species also. Affinity, relationship, all

the terms which naturalists use figuratively to express an underived,

unexplained resemblance among species, have a literal meaning upon Darwin's

system, which they little suspected, namely, that of inheritance. Varieties

are the latest offshoots of the genealogical tree in "an unlineal" order;

species, those of an earlier date, but of no definite distinction; genera,

more ancient species, and so on. The human races, upon this view, likewise

may or may not be species according to the notions of each naturalist as to

what differences are specific; but, if not species already, those races that

last long enough are sure to become so. It is only a question of time.

How well the simile of a genealogical tree illustrates the main ideas of

Darwin's theory the following extract from the summary of the fourth

chapter shows:

"It is a truly wonderful fact--the wonder of which we are apt to overlook

from familiarity--that all animals and all plants throughout all time and

space should be related to each other in group subordinate to group, in the

manner which we everywhere behold--namely, varieties of the same species

most closely related together, species of the same genus less closely and

unequally related together, forming sections and sub-genera, species of

distinct genera much less closely related, and genera related in different

degrees, forming sub-families, families, orders, sub-classes, and classes.

The several subordinate groups in any class cannot be ranked in a single

file, but seem rather to be clustered round points, and these round other

points, and so on in almost endless cycles. On the view that each species

has been independently created, I can see no explanation of this great fact

in the classification of all organic beings; but, to the best of my

judgment, it is explained through inheritance and the complex action of

natural selection, entailing extinction and divergence of character, as we

have seen illustrated in the diagram.

"The affinities of all the beings of the same class have sometimes been

represented by a great tree. I believe this simile largely speaks the truth.

The green and budding twigs may represent existing species; and those

produced during each former year may represent the long succession of

extinct species. At each period of growth all the growing twigs have tried

to branch out on all sides, and overtop and kill the surrounding twigs and

branches, in the same manner as species and groups of species have tried to

overmaster other species in the great battle for life. The limbs divided

into great branches, and these into lesser and lesser branches, were

themselves once, when the tree was small, budding twigs; and this

connection of the former and present buds by ramifying branches may well

represent the classification of all extinct and living species in groups

subordinate to groups. Of the many twigs which flourished when the tree was

a mere bush, only two or three, now grown into great branches, yet survive

and bear all the other branches; so with the species which lived during

long-past geological periods, very few now have living and modified

descendants. From the first growth of the tree, many a limb and branch has

decayed and dropped off; and these lost branches of various sizes may

represent those whole orders, families, and genera, which have now no

living representatives, and which are known to us only from having been

found in a fossil state. As we here and there see a thin, straggling branch

springing from a fork low down in a tree, and which by some chance has been

favored and is still alive on its summit, so we occasionally see an animal

like the Ornithorhynchus or Lepidosiren, which in some small degree

connects by its affinities two large branches of life, and which has

apparently been saved from fatal competition by having inhabited a protected

station. As buds give rise by growth to fresh buds, and these, if vigorous,

branch out and overtop on all sides many a feebler branch, so by generation

I believe it has been with the great Tree of Life, which fills with its

dead and broken branches the crust of the earth, and covers the surface

with its ever-branching and beautiful ramification."

It may also be noted that there is a significant correspondence between the

rival theories as to the main facts employed. Apparently every capital fact

in the one view is a capital fact in the other. The difference is in the

interpretation. To run the parallel ready made to our hands: [I-4]

"The simultaneous existence of the most diversified types under identical

circumstances . . . the repetition of similar types under the most

diversified circumstances . . . the unity of plan in otherwise

highly-diversified types of animals . . . the correspondence, now generally

known as special homologies, in the details of structure otherwise entirely

disconnected, down to the most minute peculiarities . . . the various

degrees and different kinds of relationship among animals which (apparently)

can have no genealogical connection . . . the simultaneous existence in the

earliest geological periods, . . . of representatives of all the great

types of the animal kingdom . . . the gradation based upon complications of

structure which may be traced among animals built upon the same plan; the

distribution of some types over the most extensive range of surface of the

globe, while others are limited to particular geographical areas . . . the

identity of structures of these types, notwithstanding their wide

geographical distribution . . . the community of structure in certain

respects of animals otherwise entirely different, but living within the

same geographical area . . . the connection by series of special structures

observed in animals widely scattered over the surface of the globe . . .

the definite relations in which animals stand to the surrounding world, . .

. the relations in which individuals of the same species stand to one

another . . . the limitation of the range of changes which animals undergo

during their growth . . . the return to a definite norm of animals which

multiply in various ways . . . the order of succession of the different

types of animals and plants characteristic of the different geological

epochs, . . . the localization of some types of animals upon the same points

of the surface of the globe during several successive geological periods . .

. the parallelism between the order of succession of animals and plants in

geological times, and the gradation among their living representatives . .

. the parallelism between the order of succession of animals in geological

times and the changes their living representatives undergo during their

embryological growth, [I-5] . . . the combination in many extinct types of

characters which in later ages appear disconnected in different types, . .

. the parallelism between the gradation among animals and the changes they

undergo during their growth, . . . the relations existing between these

different series and the geographical distribution of animals, . . . the

connection of all the known features of Nature into one system--"

In a word, the whole relations of animals, etc., to surrounding Nature and

to each other, are regarded under the one view as ultimate facts, or in the

ultimate aspect, and interpreted theologically; under the other as complex

facts, to be analyzed and interpreted scientifically. The one naturalist,

perhaps too largely assuming the scientifically unexplained to be

inexplicable, views the phenomena only in their supposed relation to the

Divine mind. The other, naturally expecting many of these phenomena to be

resolvable under investigation, views them in their relations to one

another, and endeavors to explain them as far as he can (and perhaps

farther) through natural causes.

But does the one really exclude the other? Does the investigation of

physical causes stand opposed to the theological view and the study of the

harmonies between mind and Nature? More than this, is it not most

presumable that an intellectual conception realized in Nature would be

realized through natural agencies? Mr. Agassiz answers these questions

affirmatively when he declares that "the task of science is to investigate

what has been done, to inquire if possible how it has been done, rather

than to ask what is possible for the Deity, since we can know that only by

what actually exists;" and also when he extends the argument for the

intervention in Nature of a creative mind to its legitimate application in

the inorganic world; which, he remarks, "considered in the same light,

would not fail also to exhibit unexpected evidence of thought, in the

character of the laws regulating the chemical combinations, the action of

physical forces, etc., etc." [I-6] Mr. Agassiz, however, pronounces that

"the connection between the facts is only intellectual"--an opinion which

the analogy of the inorganic world, just referred to, does not confirm, for

there a material connection between the facts is justly held to be

consistent with an intellectual--and which the most analogous cases we can

think of in the organic world do not favor; for there is a material

connection between the grub, the pupa, and the butterfly, between the

tadpole and the frog, or, still better, between those distinct animals

which succeed each other in alternate and very dissimilar generations. So

that mere analogy might rather suggest a natural connection than the

contrary; and the contrary cannot be demonstrated until the possibilities of

Nature under the Deity are fathomed.

But, the intellectual connection being undoubted, Mr. Agassiz properly

refers the whole to "the agency of Intellect as its first cause." In doing

so, however, he is not supposed to be offering a scientific explanation of

the phenomena. Evidently he is considering only the ultimate why, not the

proximate why or how.

Now the latter is just what Mr. Darwin is considering. He conceives of a

physical connection between allied species; but we suppose he does not deny

their intellectual connection, as related to a supreme intelligence.

Certainly we see no reason why he should, and many reasons why he should

not, Indeed, as we contemplate the actual direction of investigation and

speculation in the physical and natural sciences, we dimly apprehend a

probable synthesis of these divergent theories, and in it the ground for a

strong stand against mere naturalism. Even if the doctrine of the origin of

species through natural selection should prevail in our day, we shall not

despair; being confident that the genius of an Agassiz will be found equal

to the work of constructing, upon the mental and material foundations

combined, a theory of Nature as theistic and as scientific as that which he

has so eloquently expounded.

To conceive the possibility of "the descent of species from species by

insensibly fine gradations" during a long course of time, and to

demonstrate its compatibility with a strictly theistic view of the

universe, is one thing; to substantiate the theory itself or show its

likelihood is quite another thing. This brings us to consider what Darwin's

theory actually is, and how he supports it.

That the existing kinds of animals and plants, or many of them, may be

derived from other and earlier kinds, in the lapse of time, is by no means

a novel proposition. Not to speak of ancient speculations of the sort, it

is the well-known Lamarckian theory. The first difficulty which such

theories meet with is that in the present age, with all its own and its

inherited prejudgments, the whole burden of proof is naturally, and indeed

properly, laid upon the shoulders of the propounders; and thus far the

burden has been more than they could bear. From the very nature of the

case, substantive proof of specific creation is not attainable; but that of

derivation or transmutation of species may be. He who affirms the latter

view is bound to do one or both of two things: 1. Either to assign real and

adequate causes, the natural or necessary result of which must be to

produce the present diversity of species and their actual relations; or, 2.

To show the general conformity of the whole body of facts to such

assumption, and also to adduce instances explicable by it and inexplicable

by the received view, so perhaps winning our assent to the doctrine,

through its competency to harmonize all the facts, even though the cause of

the assumed variation remain as occult as that of the transformation of

tadpoles into frogs, or that of Coryne into Sarzia.

The first line of proof, successfully carried out, would establish

derivation as a true physical theory; the second, as a sufficient

hypothesis.

Lamarck mainly undertook the first line, in a theory which has been so

assailed by ridicule that it rarely receives the credit for ability to

which in its day it was entitled, But he assigned partly unreal, partly

insufficient causes; and the attempt to account for a progressive change in

species through the direct influence of physical agencies, and through the

appetencies and habits of animals reacting upon their structure, thus

causing the production and the successive modification of organs, is a

conceded and total failure. The shadowy author of the "Vestiges of the

Natural History of Creation" can hardly be said to have undertaken either

line, in a scientific way. He would explain the whole progressive evolution

of Nature by virtue of an inherent tendency to development, thus giving us

an idea or a word in place of a natural cause, a restatement of the

proposition instead of an explanation. Mr. Darwin attempts both lines of

proof, and in a strictly scientific spirit; but the stress falls mainly upon

the first, for, as he does assign real causes, he is bound to prove their

adequacy.

It should be kept in mind that, while all direct proof of independent

origination is attainable from the nature of the case, the overthrow of

particular schemes of derivation has not established the opposite

proposition. The futility of each hypothesis thus far proposed to account

for derivation may be made apparent, or unanswerable objections may be

urged against it; and each victory of the kind may render derivation more

improbable, and therefore specific creation more probable, without settling

the question either way. New facts, or new arguments and a new mode of

viewing the question, may some day change the whole aspect of the case. It

is with the latter that Mr. Darwin now reopens the discussion.

Having conceived the idea that varieties are incipient species, he is led

to study variation in the field where it shows itself most strikingly, and

affords the greatest facilities to investigation. Thoughtful naturalists

have had increasing grounds to suspect that a reexamination of the question

of species in zoology and botany, commencing with those races which man

knows most about, viz., the domesticated and cultivated races, would be

likely somewhat to modify the received idea of the entire fixity of

species. This field, rich with various but unsystematized stores of

knowledge accumulated by cultivators and breeders, has been generally

neglected by naturalists, because these races are not in a state of nature;

whereas they deserve particular attention on this very account, as

experiments, or the materials for experiments, ready to our hand. In

domestication we vary some of the natural conditions of a species, and thus

learn experimentally what changes are within the reach of varying conditions

in Nature. We separate and protect a favorite race against its foes or its

competitors, and thus learn what it might become if Nature ever afforded it

equal opportunities. Even when, to subserve human uses, we modify a

domesticated race to the detriment of its native vigor, or to the extent of

practical monstrosity, although we secure forms which would not be

originated and could not be perpetuated in free Nature, yet we attain wider

and juster views of the possible degree of variation. We perceive that some

species are more variable than others, but that no species subjected to the

experiment persistently refuses to vary; and that, when it has once begun

to vary, its varieties are not the less but the more subject to variation.

"No case is on record of a variable being ceasing to be variable under

cultivation." It is fair to conclude, from the observation of plants and

animals in a wild as well as domesticated state, that the tendency to vary

is general, and even universal. Mr. Darwin does "not believe that

variability is an inherent and necessary contingency, under all

circumstances, with all organic beings, as some authors have thought." No

one supposes variation could occur under all circumstances; but the facts

on the whole imply a universal tendency, ready to be manifested under

favorable circumstances. In reply to the assumption that man has chosen for

domestication animals and plants having an extraordinary inherent tendency

to vary, and likewise to withstand diverse climates, it is asked:

"How could a savage possibly know, when he first tamed an animal, whether

it would vary in succeeding generations and whether it would endure other

climates? Has the little variability of the ass or Guinea-fowl, or the

small power of endurance of warmth by the reindeer, or of cold by the

common camel, prevented their domestication? I cannot doubt that if other

animals and plants, equal in number to our domesticated productions, and

belonging to equally diverse classes and countries, were taken from a state

of nature, and could be made to breed for an equal number of generations

under domestication, they would vary on an average as largely as the parent

species of our existing domesticated productions have varied."

As to amount of variation, there is the common remark of naturalists that

the varieties of domesticated plants or animals often differ more widely

than do the individuals of distinct species in a wild state: and even in

Nature the individuals of some species are known to vary to a degree

sensibly wider than that which separates related species. In his

instructive section on the breeds of the domestic pigeon, our author

remarks that "at least a score of pigeons might be chosen which if shown to

an ornithologist, and he were told that they were wild birds, would

certainly be ranked by him as well-defined species. Moreover, I do not

believe that any ornithologist would place the English carrier, the

short-faced tumbler, the runt, the barb, pouter, and fantail, in the same

genus; more especially as in each of these breeds several truly-inherited

sub-breeds, or species, as he might have called them, could be shown him."

That this is not a case like that of dogs, in which probably the blood of

more than one species is mingled, Mr. Darwin proceeds to show, adducing

cogent reasons for the common opinion that all have descended from the wild

rock-pigeon. Then follow some suggestive remarks:

"I have discussed the probable origin of domestic pigeons at some, yet

quite insufficient, length; because when I first kept pigeons and watched

the several kinds, knowing well how true they bred, I felt fully as much

difficulty in believing that they could ever have descended from a common

parent as any naturalist could in coming to a similar conclusion in regard

to many species of finches, or other large groups of birds, in Nature. One

circumstance has struck me much; namely, that all the breeders of the

various domestic animals and the cultivators of plants, with whom I have

ever conversed, or whose treatises I have read, are firmly convinced that

the several breeds to which each has attended are descended from so many

aboriginally distinct species. Ask, as I have asked, a celebrated raiser of

Hereford cattle, whether his cattle might not have descended from

long-horns, and he will laugh you to scorn. I have never met a pigeon, or

poultry, or duck, or rabbit fancier, who was not fully convinced that each

main breed was descended from a distinct species. Van Mons, in his treatise

on pears and apples, shows how utterly he disbelieves that the several

sorts, for instance a Ribston-pippin or Codlin-apple, could ever have

proceeded from the seeds of the same tree. Innumerable other examples could

be given. The explanation, I think, is simple: from long-continued study

they arc strongly impressed with the differences between the several races;

and though they well know that each race varies slightly, for they win

their prizes by selecting such slight differences, yet they ignore all

general arguments, and refuse to sum up in their minds slight differences

accumulated during many successive generations. May not those naturalists

who, knowing far less of the laws of inheritance than does the breeder, and

knowing no more than he does of the intermediate links in the long lines of

descent, yet admit that many of our domestic races have descended from the

same parents--may they not learn a lesson of caution, when they deride the

idea of species in a state of nature being lineal descendants of other

species?"

The actual causes of variation are unknown. Mr. Darwin favors the opinion

of the late Mr. Knight, the great philosopher of horticulture, that

variability tinder domestication is somehow connected with excess of food.

He regards the unknown cause as acting chiefly upon the reproductive system

of the parents, which system, judging from the effect of confinement or

cultivation upon its functions, he concludes to be more susceptible than

any other to the action of changed conditions of life. The tendency to vary

certainly appears to be much stronger under domestication than in free

Nature. But we are not sure that the greater variableness of cultivated

races is not mainly owing to the far greater opportunities for

manifestation and accumulation--a view seemingly all the more favorable to

Mr. Darwin's theory. The actual amount of certain changes, such as size or

abundance of fruit, size of udder, stands of course in obvious relation to

supply of food. Really, we no more know the reason why the progeny

occasionally deviates from the parent than we do why it usually resembles

it. Though the laws and conditions governing variation are known to a

certain extent, those governing inheritance are apparently inscrutable.

"Perhaps," Darwin remarks, "the correct way of viewing the whole subject

would be, to look at the inheritance of every character whatever as the

rule, and non-inheritance as the anomaly." This, from general and obvious

considerations, we have long been accustomed to do. Now, as exceptional

instances are expected to be capable of explanation, while ultimate laws

are not, it is quite possible that variation may be accounted for, while

the great primary law of inheritance remains a mysterious fact.

The common proposition is, that species reproduce their like; this is a

sort of general inference, only a degree closer to fact than the statement

that genera reproduce their like. The true proposition, the fact incapable

of further analysis, is, that individuals reproduce their like--that

characteristics are inheritable. So varieties, or deviations, once

originated, are perpetuable, like species. Not so likely to be perpetuated,

at the outset; for the new form tends to resemble a grandparent and a long

line of similar ancestors, as well as to resemble its immediate progenitors.

Two forces which coincide in the ordinary case, where the offspring

resembles its parent, act in different directions when it does not and it

is uncertain which will prevail. If the remoter but very potent ancestral

influence predominates, the variation disappears with the life of the

individual. If that of the immediate parent--feebler no doubt, but

closer--the variety survives in the offspring; whose progeny now has a

redoubled tendency to produce its own like; whose progeny again is almost

sure to produce its like, since it is much the same whether it takes after

its mother or its grandmother.

In this way races arise, which under favorable conditions may be as

hereditary as species. In following these indications, watching

opportunities, and breeding only from those individuals which vary most in

a desirable direction, man leads the course of variation as he leads a

streamlet--apparently at will, but never against the force of

gravitation--to a long distance from its source, and makes it more

subservient to his use or fancy. He unconsciously strengthens those

variations which he prizes when he plants the seed of a favorite fruit,

preserves a favorite domestic animal, drowns the uglier kittens of a

litter, and allows only the handsomest or the best mousers to propagate.

Still more, by methodical selection, in recent times almost marvelous

results have been produced in new breeds of cattle, sheep, and poultry, and

new varieties of fruit of greater and greater size or excellence.

It is said that all domestic varieties, if left to run wild, would revert

to their aboriginal stocks. Probably they would wherever various races of

one species were left to commingle. At least the abnormal or exaggerated

characteristics induced by high feeding, or high cultivation and prolonged

close breeding, would promptly disappear; and the surviving stock would

soon blend into a homogeneous result (in a way presently explained), which

would naturally be taken for the original form; but we could seldom know if

it were so. It is by no means certain that the result would be the same if

the races ran wild each in a separate region. Dr. Hooker doubts if there is

a true reversion in the case of plants. Mr. Darwin's observations rather

favor it in the animal kingdom. With mingled races reversion seems well

made out in the case of pigeons. The common opinion upon this subject

therefore probably has some foundation, But even if we regard varieties as

oscillations around a primitive centre or type, still it appears from the

readiness with which such varieties originate that a certain amount of

disturbance would carry them beyond the influence of the primordial

attraction, where they may become new centres of variation.

Some suppose that races cannot be perpetuated indefinitely even by keeping

up the conditions under which they were fixed; but the high antiquity of

several, and the actual fixity of many of them, negative this assumption.

"To assert that we could not breed our cart and race horses, long and short

horned cattle, and poultry of various breeds, for almost an infinite number

of generations, would be opposed to all experience."

Why varieties develop so readily and deviate so widely under domestication,

while they are apparently so rare or so transient in free Nature, may

easily be shown. In Nature, even with hermaphrodite plants, there is a vast

amount of cross-fertilization among various individuals of the same

species. The inevitable result of this (as was long ago explained in this

Journal [I-7]) is to repress variation, to keep the mass of a species

comparatively homogeneous over any area in which it abounds in individuals.

Starting from a suggestion of the late Mr. Knight, now so familiar, that

close interbreeding diminishes vigor and fertility; [I-8] and perceiving

that bisexuality is ever aimed at in Nature--being attained physiologically

in numerous cases where it is not structurally--Mr. Darwin has worked out

the subject in detail, and shown how general is the concurrence, either

habitual or occasional, of two hermaphrodite individuals in the

reproduction of their kind; and has drawn the philosophical inference that

probably no organic being self-fertilizes indefinitely; but that a cross

with another individual is occasionally--perhaps at very long

intervals--indispensable. We refer the reader to the section on the

intercrossing of individuals (pp. 96--101), and also to an article in the

Gardeners' Chronicle a year and a half ago, for the details of a very

interesting contribution to science, irrespective of theory. In

domestication, this intercrossing may be prevented; and in this prevention

lies the art of producing varieties. But "the art itself is Nature," since

the whole art consists in allowing the most universal of all natural

tendencies in organic things (inheritance) to operate uncontrolled by other

and obviously incidental tendencies. No new power, no artificial force, is

brought into play either by separating the stock of a desirable variety so

as to prevent mixture, or by selecting for breeders those individuals which

most largely partake of the peculiarities for which the breed is valued.

{I-9]

We see everywhere around us the remarkable results which Nature may be said

to have brought about under artificial selection and separation. Could she

accomplish similar results when left to herself? Variations might begin, we

know they do begin, in a wild state. But would any of them be preserved and

carried to an equal degree of deviation? Is there anything in Nature which

in the long-run may answer to artificial selection? Mr. Darwin thinks that

there is; and Natural Selection is the key-note of his discourse,

As a preliminary, he has a short chapter to show that there is variation in

Nature, and therefore something for natural selection to act upon. He

readily shows that such mere variations as may be directly referred to

physical conditions (like the depauperation of plants in a sterile soil, or

their dwarfing as they approach an Alpine summit, the thicker fur of an

animal from far northward, etc.), and also those individual differences

which we everywhere recognize but do not pretend to account for, are not

separable by any assignable line from more strongly-marked varieties;

likewise that there is no clear demarkation between the latter and

sub-species, or varieties of the highest grade (distinguished from species

not by any known inconstancy, but by the supposed lower importance of their

characteristics); nor between these and recognized species. "These

differences blend into each other in an insensible series, and the series

impresses the mind with an idea of an actual passage."

This gradation from species downward is well made out. To carry it one step

farther upward, our author presents in a strong light the differences which

prevail among naturalists as to what forms should be admitted to the rank

of species. Some genera (and these in some countries) give rise to far more

discrepancy than others; and it is concluded that the large or dominant

genera are usually the most variable. In a flora so small as the British,

182 plants, generally reckoned as varieties, have been ranked by some

botanists as species. Selecting the British genera which include the most

polymorphous forms, it appears that Babington's Flora gives them 251

species, Bentham's only 112, a difference of 139 doubtful forms. These are

nearly the extreme views, but they are the views of two most capable and

most experienced judges, in respect to one of the best-known floras of the

world. The fact is suggestive, that the best-known countries furnish the

greatest number of such doubtful cases. Illustrations of this kind may be

multiplied to a great extent. They make it plain that, whether species in

Nature are aboriginal and definite or not, our practical conclusions about

them, as embodied in systematic works, are not facts but judgments, and

largely fallible judgments-

How much of the actual coincidence of authorities is owing to imperfect or

restricted observation, and to one naturalist's adopting the conclusions of

another without independent observation, this is not the place to consider.

It is our impression that species of animals are more definitely marked

than those of plants; this may arise from our somewhat extended

acquaintance with the latter, and our ignorance of the former. But we are

constrained by our experience to admit the strong likelihood, in botany,

that varieties on the one hand, and what are called closely-related species

on the other, do not differ except in degree. Whenever this wider

difference separating the latter can be spanned by intermediate forms, as

it sometimes is, no botanist long resists the inevitable conclusion.

Whenever, therefore, this wider difference can be shown to be compatible

with community of origin, and explained through natural selection or in any

other way, we are ready to adopt the probable conclusion; and we see

beforehand how strikingly the actual geographical association of related

species favors the broader view. Whether we should continue to regard the

forms in question as distinct species, depends upon what meaning we shall

finally attach to that term; and that depends upon how far the doctrine of

derivation can be carried back and how well it can be supported.

In applying his principle of natural selection to the work in hand, Mr.

Darwin assumes, as we have seen: i. Some variability of animals and plants

in nature; 2. The absence of any definite distinction between slight

variations, and varieties of the highest grade; 3. The fact that

naturalists do not practically agree, and do not increasingly tend to

agree, as to what forms are species and what are strong varieties, thus

rendering it probable that there may be no essential and original

difference, or no possibility of ascertaining it, at least in many cases;

also, 4. That the most flourishing and dominant species of the larger

genera on an average vary most (a proposition which can be substantiated

only by extensive comparisons, the details of which are not given); and, 5.

That in large genera the species are apt to be closely but unequally allied

together, forming little clusters round certain species--just such clusters

as would be formed if we suppose their members once to have been satellites

or varieties of a central or parent species, but to have attained at length

a wider divergence and a specific character. The fact of such association

is undeniable; and the use which Mr. Darwin makes of it seems fair and

natural.

The gist of Mr. Darwin's work is to show that such varieties are gradually

diverged into species and genera through natural selection; that natural

selection is the inevitable result of the struggle for existence which all

living things are engaged in; and that this struggle is an unavoidable

consequence of several natural causes, but mainly of the high rate at which

all organic beings tend to increase.

Curiously enough, Mr. Darwin's theory is grounded upon the doctrine of

Malthus and the doctrine of Hobbes. The elder DeCandolle had conceived the

idea of the struggle for existence, and, in a passage which would have

delighted the cynical philosopher of Malmesbury, had declared that all

Nature is at war, one organism with another or with external Nature; and

Lyell and Herbert had made considerable use of it. But Hobbes in his theory

of society, and Darwin in his theory of natural history, alone have built

their systems upon it. However moralists and political economists may

regard these doctrines in their original application to human society and

the relation of population to subsistence, their thorough applicability to

the great society of the organic world in general is now undeniable. And to

Mr. Darwin belongs the credit of making this extended application, and of

working out the immensely diversified results with rare sagacity and

untiring patience. He has brought to view real causes which have been

largely operative in the establishment of the actual association and

geographical distribution of plants and animals. In this he must be allowed

to have made a very important contribution to an interesting department of

science, even if his theory fails in the endeavor to explain the origin or

diversity of species. "Nothing is easier," says our author, "than to admit

in words the truth of the universal struggle for life, or more difficult--at

least I have found it so--than constantly to bear this conclusion in mind.

Yet, unless it be thoroughly ingrained in the mind, I am convinced that the

whole economy of Nature, with every fact on distribution, rarity,

abundance, extinction, and variation, will be dimly seen or quite

misunderstood. We behold the face of Nature bright with gladness, we often

see superabundance of food; we do not see, or we forget, that the birds

which are idly singing round us mostly live on insects or seeds, and are

thus constantly destroying life; or we forget how largely these songsters,

or their eggs, or their nestlings, are destroyed by birds and beasts of

prey; we do not always bear in mind that, though food may be now

superabundant, it is not so at all seasons of each recurring year."--(p.

62.)

"There is no exception to the rule that every organic being naturally

increases at so high a rate that, if not destroyed, the earth would soon be

covered by the progeny of a single pair. Even slow-breeding man has doubled

in twenty-five years, and at this rate, in a few thousand years, there

would literally not be standing-room for his progeny. Linnaeus has

calculated that if an annual plant produced only two seeds--and there is no

plant so unproductive as this--and their seedlings next year produced two,

and so on, then in twenty years there would be a million plants. The

elephant is reckoned to be the slowest breeder of all known animals, and I

have taken some pains to estimate its pro!)able minimum rate of natural

increase; it will be under the mark to assume that it breeds when thirty

years old, and goes on breeding till ninety years old, bringing forth three

pairs of young in this interval; if this be so, at the end of the fifth

century there would be alive fifteen million elephants, descended from the

first pair.

"But we have better evidence on this subject than mere theoretical

calculations, namely, the numerous recorded cases of the astonishingly

rapid increase of various animals in a state of nature, when circumstances

have been favorable to them during two or three following seasons. Still

more striking is the evidence from our domestic animals of many kinds which

have run wild in several parts of the world; if the statements of the rate

of increase of slow-breeding cattle and horses in South America, and

latterly in Australia, had not been well authenticated, they would have

been quite incredible. So it is with plants: cases could be given of

introduced plants which have become common throughout whole islands in a

period of less than ten years. Several of the plants now most numerous over

the wide plains of La Plata, clothing square leagues of surface almost to

the exclusion of all other plants, have been introduced from Europe; and

there are plants which now range in India, as I hear from Dr. Falconer,

from Cape Comorin to the Himalaya, which have been imported from America

since its discovery. In such cases, and endless instances could be given,

no one supposes that the fertility of these animals or plants has been

suddenly and temporarily increased in any sensible degree. The obvious

explanation is, that the conditions of life have been very favorable, and

that there has consequently been less destruction of the old and young, and

that nearly all the young have been enabled to breed. In such cases the

geometrical ratio of increase, the result of which never fails to be

surprising, simply explains the extraordinarily rapid increase and wide

diffusion of naturalized productions in their new homes."--(pp. 64, 65.)

"All plants and animals are tending to increase at a geometrical ratio; all

would most rapidly stock any station in which they could anyhow exist; the

increase must be checked by destruction at some period of life."--(p. 65.)

The difference between the most and the least prolific species is of no

account:

"The condor lays a couple of eggs, and the ostrich a score; and yet in the

same country the condor may be the more numerous of the two. The Fulmar

petrel lays but one egg, yet it is believed to be the most numerous bird in

the world."--(p. 68.)

"The amount of food gives the extreme limit to which each species can

increase; but very frequently it is not the obtaining of food, but the

serving as prey to other animals, which determines the average numbers of

species."--(p. 68.)

"Climate plays an important part in determining the average numbers of a

species, and periodical seasons of extreme cold or drought I believe to be

the most effective of all checks. I estimated that the winter of 1854--'55

destroyed four-fifths of the birds in my own grounds; and this is a

tremendous destruction, when we remember that ten per cent, is an

extraordinarily severe mortality from epidemics with man. The action of

climate seems at first sight to be quite independent of the struggle for

existence; but, in so far as climate chiefly acts in reducing food, it

brings on the most severe struggle between the individuals, whether of the

same or of distinct species, which subsist on the same kind of food, Even

when climate, for instance extreme cold, acts directly, it will be the

least vigorous, or those which have got least food through the advancing

winter, which will suffer most. When we travel from south to north, or from

a damp region to a dry, we invariably see some species gradually getting

rarer and rarer, and finally disappearing; and, the change of climate being

conspicuous, we are tempted to attribute the whole effect to its direct

action. But this is a very false view; we forget that each species, even

where it most abounds, is constantly suffering enormous destruction at some

period of its life, from enemies or from competitors for the same place and

food; and if these enemies or competitors be in the least degree favored by

any slight change of climate, they will increase in numbers, and, as each

area is already stocked with inhabitants, the other species will decrease.

When we travel southward and see a species decreasing in numbers, we may

feel sure that the cause lies quite as much in other species being favored

as in this one being hurt. So it is when we travel northward, but in a

somewhat lesser degree, for the number of species of all kinds, and

therefore of competitors, decreases northward; hence, in going northward,

or in ascending a mountain, we far oftener meet with stunted forms, due to

the directly injurious action of climate, than we do in proceeding

southward or in descending a mountain. When we reach the arctic regions, or

snow-capped summits, or absolute deserts, the struggle for life is almost

exclusively with the elements.

"That climate acts in main part indirectly by favoring other species, we

may clearly see in the prodigious number of plants in our gardens which can

perfectly well endure our climate, but which never become naturalized, for

they cannot compete with our native plants, nor resist destruction by our

native animals."--(pp. 68, 69.)

After an instructive instance in which "cattle absolutely determine the

existence of the Scotch fir," we are referred to cases in which insects

determine the existence of cattle:

"Perhaps Paraguay offers the most curious instance of this; for here

neither cattle, nor horses, nor dogs, have ever run wild, though they swarm

southward and northward in a feral state; and Azara and Rengger have shown

that this is caused by the greater number in Paraguay of a certain fly,

which lays its eggs in the navels of these animals when first born. The

increase of these flies, numerous as they are, must be habitually checked

by some means, probably by birds. Hence, if certain insectivorous birds

(whose numbers are probably regulated by hawks or beasts of prey) were to

increase in Paraguay, the flies would decrease--then cattle and horses

would become feral, and this would certainly greatly alter (as indeed I

have observed in parts of South America) the vegetation; this, again, would

largely affect the insects; and this, as we have just seen in

Staffordshire, the insectivorous birds, and so onward in ever-increasing

circles of complexity. We began this series by insectivorous birds, and we

had ended with them. Not that in Nature the relations can ever be as simple

as this. Battle within battle must ever be recurring with varying success;

and yet in the long-run the forces are so nicely balanced that the face of

Nature remains uniform for long periods of time, though assuredly the

merest trifle would often give the victory to one organic being over

another. Nevertheless, so profound is our ignorance, and so high our

presumption, that we marvel when we hear of the extinction of an organic

being; and as we do not see the cause, we invoke cataclysms to desolate the

world, or invent laws on the duration of the forms of life!"--(pp. 72, 73.)

"When we look at the plants and bushes clothing an entangled bank, we arc

tempted to attribute their proportional numbers and kinds to what we call

chance. But how false a view is this! Every one has heard that when an

American forest is cut down, a very different vegetation springs up; but it

has been observed that the trees now growing on the ancient Indian mounds,

in the Southern United States, display the same beautiful diversity and

proportion of kinds as in the surrounding virgin forests. What a struggle

between the several kinds of trees must here have gone on during long

centuries, each annually scattering its seeds by the thousand; what war

between insect and insect--between insects, snails, and other animals, with

birds and beasts of prey--all striving to increase, and all feeding on each

other or on the trees, or their seeds and seedlings, or on the other plants

which first clothed the ground and thus checked the growth of the trees!

Throw up a handful of feathers, and all must fall to the ground according

to definite laws; but how simple is this problem compared to the action and

reaction of the innumerable plants and animals which have determined, in the

course of centuries, the proportional numbers and kinds of trees now

growing on the old Indian ruins!"--(pp. 74, 75.)

For reasons obvious upon reflection, the competition is often, if not

generally, most severe between nearly related species when they are in

contact, so that one drives the other before it, as the Hanoverian the old

English rat, the small Asiatic cockroach in Russia, its greater congener,

etc. And this, when duly considered, explains many curious results; such,

for instance, as the considerable number of different genera of plants and

animals which are generally found to inhabit any limited area.

"The truth of the principle that the greatest amount of life can be

supported by great diversification of structure is seen under many natural

circumstances. In an extremely small area, especially if freely open to

immigration, and where the contest between individual and individual must

be severe, we always find great diversity in its inhabitants. For instance,

I found that a piece of turf, three feet by four in size, which had been

exposed for many years to exactly the same conditions, supported twenty

species of plants, and these belonged to eighteen genera, and to eight

orders, which showed how much these plants differed from each other. So it

is with the plants and insects on small and uniform islets; and so in small

ponds of fresh water. Farmers find that they can raise most food by a

rotation of plants belonging to the most different orders; Nature follows

what may be called a simultaneous rotation. Most of the animals and plants

which live close round any small piece of ground could live on it (supposing

it not to be in any way peculiar in its nature), and may be said to be

striving to the utmost to live there; but it is seen that, where they come

into the closest competition with each other, the advantages of

diversification of structure, with the accompanying differences of habit

and constitution, determine that the inhabitants, which thus jostle each

other most closely, shall, as a general rule, belong to what we call

different genera and orders."--(p. 114.)

The abundance of some forms, the rarity and final extinction of many

others, and the consequent divergence of character or increase of

difference among the surviving representatives, are other consequences. As

favored forms increase, the less favored must diminish in number, for there

is not room for all; and the slightest advantage, at first probably

inappreciable to human observation, must decide which shall prevail and

which must perish, or be driven to another and for it more favorable

locality.

We cannot do justice to the interesting chapter upon natural selection by

separated extracts. The following must serve to show how the principle is

supposed to work:

"If during the long course of ages, and under varying conditions of life,

organic beings vary at all in the several parts of their organization, and

I think this cannot be disputed; if there be, owing to the high geometrical

powers of increase of each species, at some age, season, or year, a severe

struggle for life, and this certainly cannot be disputed: then, considering

the infinite complexity of the relations of all organic beings to each

other and to their conditions of existence, causing an infinite diversity

in structure, constitution, and habits, to be advantageous to them, I think

it would be a most extraordinary fact if no variation ever had occurred

useful to each being's own welfare, in the same way as so many variations

have occurred useful to man. But if variations useful to any organic being

do occur, assuredly individuals thus characterized will have the best

chance of being preserved in the struggle for life; and from the strong

principle of inheritance they will tend to produce offspring similarly

characterized. This principle of preservation I have called, for the sake

of brevity, Natural Selection."--(pp. 126, 127.)

"In order to make it clear how, as I believe, natural selection acts, I

must beg permission to give one or two imaginary illustrations. Let us take

the case of a wolf, which preys on various animals, securing some by craft,

some by strength, and some by fleetness; and let us suppose that the

fleetest prey, a deer for instance, had from any change in the country

increased in numbers, or that other prey had decreased in numbers, during

that season of the year when the wolf is hardest pressed for food. I can

under such circumstances see no reason to doubt that the swiftest and

slimmest wolves would have the best chance of surviving, and so be

preserved or selected--provided always that they retained strength to

master their prey at this or at some other period of the year, when they

might be compelled to prey on other animals. I can see no more reason to

doubt this than that man can improve the fleetness of his greyhounds by

careful and methodical selection, or by that unconscious selection which

results from each man trying to keep the best dogs without any thought of

modifying the breed.

"Even without any change in the proportional numbers of the animals on

which our wolf preyed, a cub might be born with an innate tendency to

pursue certain kinds of prey. Nor can this be thought very improbable; for

we often observe great differences in the natural tendencies of our

domestic animals: one cat, for instance, taking to catching rats, another

mice; one cat, according to Mr. St. John, bringing home winged game,

another hares or rabbits, and another hunting on marshy ground!, and almost

nightly catching woodcocks or snipes. The tendency to catch rats rather

than mice is known to be inherited. Now, if any slight innate change of

habit or of structure benefited an individual wolf, it would have the best

chance of surviving and of leaving offspring. Some of its young would

probably inherit the same habits or structure, and by the repetition of

this process a new variety might be formed which would either supplant or

coexist with the parent-form of wolf. Or, again, the wolves inhabiting a

mountainous district, and those frequenting the lowlands, would naturally

be forced to hunt different prey; and from a continued preservation of the

individuals best fitted for the two sites, two varieties might slowly be

formed. These varieties would cross and blend where they met; but to this

subject of intercrossing we shall soon have to return. I may add that,

according to Mr. Pierce, there are two varieties of the wolf inhabiting the

Catskill Mountains in the United States, one with a light greyhound-like

form, which pursues deer, and the other more bulky, with shorter legs,

which more frequently attacks the shepherd's flock."--(pp. 90, 91.)

We eke out the illustration here with a counterpart instance, viz., the

remark of Dr. Bachman that "the deer that reside permanently in the swamps

of Carolina are taller and longer-legged than those in the higher grounds."

[I-10]

The limits allotted to this article are nearly reached, yet only four of

the fourteen chapters of the volume have been touched. These, however,

contain the fundamental principles of the theory, and most of those

applications of it which are capable of something like verification,

relating as they do to the phenomena now occurring. Some of our extracts

also show how these principles are thought to have operated through the

long lapse of the ages. The chapters from the sixth to the ninth inclusive

are designed to obviate difficulties and objections, "some of them so grave

that to this day," the author frankly says, he "can never reflect on them

without being staggered." We do not wonder at it. After drawing what

comfort he can from "the imperfection of the geological record" (Chapter

IX), which we suspect is scarcely exaggerated, the author considers the

geological succession of organic beings (Chapter X), to see whether they

better accord with the common view of the immutability of species, or with

that of their slow and gradual modification. Geologists must settle that

question. Then follow two most interesting and able chapters on the

geographical distribution of plants and animals, the summary of which we

should be glad to cite; then a fitting chapter upon classification,

morphology, embryology, etc., as viewed in the light of this theory, closes

the argument; the fourteenth chapter being a recapitulation.

The interest for the general reader heightens as the author advances on his

perilous way and grapples manfully with the most formidable difficulties.

To account, upon these principles, for the gradual elimination and

segregation of nearly allied forms--such as varieties, sub-species, and

closely-related or representative species--also in a general way for their

geographical association and present range, is comparatively easy, is

apparently within the bounds of possibility. Could we stop here we should

be fairly contented. But, to complete the system, to carry out the

principles to their ultimate conclusion, and to explain by them many facts

in geographical distribution which would still remain anomalous, Mr. Darwin

is equally bound to account for the formation of genera, families, orders,

and even classes, by natural selection. He does "not doubt that the theory

of descent with modification embraces all the members of the same class,"

and he concedes that analogy would press the conclusion still further;

while he admits that "the more distinct the forms are, the more the

arguments fall away in force." To command assent we naturally require

decreasing probability to be overbalanced by an increased weight of

evidence. An opponent might plausibly, and perhaps quite fairly, urge that

the links in the chain of argument are weakest just where the greatest

stress falls upon them.

To which Mr. Darwin's answer is, that the best parts of the testimony have

been lost. He is confident that intermediate forms must have existed; that

in the olden times when the genera, the families, and the orders, diverged

from their parent stocks, gradations existed as fine as those which now

connect closely related species with varieties. But they have passed and

left no sign. The geological record, even if all displayed to view, is a

book from which not only many pages, but even whole alternate chapters,

have been lost out, or rather which were never printed from the autographs

of Nature. The record was actually made in fossil lithography only at

certain times and under certain conditions (i.e., at periods of slow

subsidence and places of abundant sediment); and of these records all but

the last volume is out of print; and of its pages only local glimpses have

been obtained. Geologists, except Lyell, will object to this--some of them

moderately, others with vehemence. Mr. Darwin himself admits, with a candor

rarely displayed on such occasions, that he should have expected more

geological evidence of transition than he finds, and that all the most

eminent paleontologists maintain the immutability of species.

The general fact, however, that the fossil fauna of each period as a whole

is nearly intermediate in character between the preceding and the

succeeding faunas, is much relied on. We are brought one step nearer to the

desired inference by the similar "fact, insisted on by all paleontologists,

that fossils from two consecutive formations are far more closely related

to each other than are the fossils of two remote formations. Pictet gives a

well-known instance--the general resemblance of the organic remains from the

several stages of the chalk formation, though the species are distinct at

each stage. This fact alone, from its generality, seems to have shaken

Prof. Pictet in his firm belief in the immutability of species" (p. 335).

What Mr. Darwin now particularly wants to complete his inferential evidence

is a proof that the same gradation may be traced in later periods, say in

the Tertiary, and between that period and the present; also that the later

gradations are finer, so as to leave it doubtful whether the succession is

one of species--believed on the one theory to be independent, on the other,

derivative--or of varieties, which are confessedly derivative. The proof of

the finer gradation appears to be forthcoming. Des Hayes and Lyell have

concluded that many of the middle Tertiary and a large proportion of the

later Tertiary mollusca are specifically identical with living species; and

this is still the almost universally prevalent view. But Mr. Agassiz states

that, "in every instance where he had sufficient materials, he had found

that the species of the two epochs supposed to be identical by Des Hayes

and Lyell were in reality distinct, although closely allied species."[I-11]

Moreover, he is now satisfied, as we understand, that the same gradation is

traceable not merely in each great division of the Tertiary, but in

particular deposits or successive beds, each answering to a great number of

years; where what have passed unquestioned as members of one species, upon

closer examination of numerous specimens exhibit differences which in his

opinion entitle them to be distinguished into two, three, or more species.

It is plain, therefore, that whatever conclusions can be fairly drawn from

the present animal and vegetable kingdoms in favor of a gradation of

varieties into species, or into what may be regarded as such, the same may

be extended to the Tertiary period. In both cases, what some call species

others call varieties; and in the later Tertiary shells this difference in

judgment affects almost half of the species!

We pass to a second difficulty in the way of Mr. Darwin's theory; to a case

where we are perhaps entitled to demand of him evidence of gradation like

that which connects the present with the Tertiary mollusca. Wide, very wide

is the gap, anatomically and physiologically (we do not speak of the

intellectual) between the highest quadrumana and man; and comparatively

recent, if ever, must the line have bifurcated. But where is there the

slightest evidence of a common progenitor? Perhaps Mr. Darwin would reply by

another question: where are the fossil remains of the men who made the

flint knives and arrowheads of the Somme Valley?

We have a third objection, one, fortunately, which has nothing to do with

geology. We can only state it here in brief terms. The chapter on hybridism

is most ingenious, able, and instructive. If sterility of crosses is a

special original arrangement to prevent the confusion of species by

mingling, as is generally assumed, then, since varieties cross readily and

their offspring is fertile inter se, there is a fundamental distinction

between varieties and species. Mr. Darwin therefore labors to show that it

is not a special endowment, but an incidental acquirement. He does show that

the sterility of crosses is of all degrees; upon which we have only to say,

Natura non facit saltum, here any more than elsewhere. But, upon his theory

he is bound to show how sterility might be acquired, through natural

selection or through something else. And the difficulty is, that, whereas

individuals of the very same blood tend to be sterile, and somewhat remoter

unions diminish this tendency, and when they have diverged into two

varieties the cross-breeds between the two are more fertile than either pure

stock--yet when they have diverged only one degree more the whole tendency

is reversed, and the mongrel is sterile, either absolutely or relatively.

He who explains the genesis of species through purely natural agencies

should assign a natural cause for this remarkable result; and this Mr.

Darwin has not done. Whether original or derived, however, this arrangement

to keep apart those forms which have, or have acquired (as the case may be),

a certain moderate amount of difference, looks to us as much designed for

the purpose, as does a rachet to prevent reverse motion in a wheel. If

species have originated by divergence, this keeps them apart.

Here let us suggest a possibly attainable test of the theory of derivation,

a kind of instance which Mr. Darwin may be fairly asked to produce--viz.,

an instance of two varieties, or what may be assumed as such, which have

diverged enough to reverse the movement, to bring out some sterility in the

crosses. The best marked human races might offer the most likely case. If

mulattoes are sterile or tend to sterility, as some naturalists confidently

assert, they afford Mr. Darwin a case in point. If, as others think, no

such tendency is made out, the required evidence is wanting.

A fourth and the most formidable difficulty is that of the production and

specialization of organs.

It is well said that all organic beings have been formed on two great laws:

unity of type, and adaptation to the conditions of existence.[I-12] The

special teleologists, such as Paley, occupy themselves with the latter

only; they refer particular facts to special design, but leave an

overwhelming array of the widest facts inexplicable. The morphologists

build on unity of type, or that fundamental agreement in the structure of

each great class of beings which is quite independent of their habits or

conditions of life; which requires each individual "to go through a certain

formality," and to accept, at least for a time, certain organs, whether

they are of any use to him or not. Philosophical minds form various

conceptions for harmonizing the two views theoretically. Mr. Darwin

harmonizes and explains them naturally. Adaptation to the conditions of

existence is the result of natural selection; unity of type, of unity of

descent. Accordingly, as he puts his theory, he is bound to account for the

origination of new organs, and for their diversity in each great type, for

their specialization, and every adaptation of organ to function and of

structure to condition, through natural agencies. Whenever he attempts this

he reminds us of Lamarck, and shows us how little light the science of a

century devoted to structural investigation has thrown upon the mystery of

organization. Here purely natural explanations fail. The organs being given,

natural selection may account for some improvement; if given of a variety

of sorts or grades, natural selection might determine which should survive

and where it should prevail.

On all this ground the only line for the theory to take is to make the most

of gradation and adherence to type as suggestive of derivation, and

unaccountable upon any other scientific view--deferring all attempts to

explain how such a metamorphosis was effected, until naturalists have

explained how the tadpole is metamorphosed into a frog, or one sort of

polyp into another. As to why it is so, the philosophy of efficient cause,

and even the whole argument from design, would stand, upon the admission of

such a theory of derivation, precisely where they stand without it. At

least there is, or need be, no ground of difference here between Darwin and

Agassiz. The latter will admit, with Owen and every morphologist, that

hopeless is the attempt to explain the similarity of pattern in members of

the same class by utility or the doctrine of final causes. "On the ordinary

view of the independent creation of each being, we can only say that so it

is, that it has so pleased the Creator to construct each animal and plant."

Mr. Darwin, in proposing a theory which suggests a how that harmonizes

these facts into a system, we trust implies that all was done wisely, in

the largest sense designedly, and by an intelligent first cause. The

contemplation of the subject on the intellectual side, the amplest

exposition of the unity of plan in creation, considered irrespective of

natural agencies, leads to no other conclusion.

We are thus, at last, brought to the question, What would happen if the

derivation of species were to be substantiated, either as a true physical

theory, or as a sufficient hypothesis? What would come of it? The inquiry

is a pertinent one, just now. For, of those who agree with us in thinking

that Darwin has not established his theory of derivation many will admit

with us that he has rendered a theory of derivation much less improbable

than before; that such a theory chimes in with the established doctrines of

physical science, and is not unlikely to be largely accepted long before it

can be proved. Moreover, the various notions that prevail--equally among

the most and the least religious--as to the relations between natural

agencies or phenomena and efficient cause, are seemingly more crude,

obscure, and discordant, than they need be.

It is not surprising that the doctrine of the book should be denounced as

atheistical. What does surprise and concern us is, that it should be so

denounced by a scientific man, on the broad assumption that a material

connection between the members of a series of organized beings is

inconsistent with the idea of their being intellectually connected with one

another through the Deity, i.e., as products of one mind, as indicating and

realizing a preconceived plan. An assumption the rebound of which is

somewhat fearful to contemplate, but fortunately one which every natural

birth protests against.

It would be more correct to say that the theory in itself is perfectly

compatible with an atheistic view of the universe. That is true; but it is

equally true of physical theories generally. Indeed, it is more true of the

theory of gravitation, and of the nebular hypothesis, than of the

hypothesis in question. The latter merely takes up a particular, proximate

cause, or set of such causes, from which, it is argued, the present

diversity of species has or may have contingently resulted. The author does

not say necessarily resulted; that the actual results in mode and measure,

and none other, must have taken place. On the other hand, the theory of

gravitation and its extension in the nebular hypothesis assume a universal

and ultimate physical cause, from which the effects in Nature must

necessarily have resulted. Now, it is not thought, at least at the present

day, that the establishment of the Newtonian theory was a step toward

atheism or pantheism. Yet the great achievement of Newton consisted in

proving that certain forces (blind forces, so far as the theory is

concerned), acting upon matter in certain directions, must necessarily

produce planetary orbits of the exact measure and form in which observation

shows them to exist--a view which is just as consistent with eternal

necessity, either in the atheistic or the pantheistic form, as it is with

theism.

Nor is the theory of derivation particularly exposed to the charge of the

atheism of fortuity; since it undertakes to assign real causes for

harmonious and systematic results. But, of this, a word at the close.

The value of such objections to the theory of derivation may be tested by

one or two analogous cases. The common scientific as well as popular belief

is that of the original, independent creation of oxygen and hydrogen, iron,

gold, and the like. Is the speculative opinion now increasingly held, that

some or all of the supposed elementary bodies are derivative or compound,

developed from some preceding forms of matter, irreligious? Were the old

alchemists atheists as well as dreamers in their attempts to transmute

earth into gold? Or, to take an instance from force (power)--which stands

one step nearer to efficient cause than form--was the attempt to prove that

heat, light, electricity, magnetism, and even mechanical power, are

variations or transmutations of one force, atheistical in its tendency? The

supposed establishment of this view is reckoned as one of the greatest

scientific triumphs of this century.

Perhaps, however, the objection is brought, not so much against the

speculation itself, as against the attempt to show how derivation might

have been brought about. Then the same objection applies to a recent

ingenious hypothesis made to account for the genesis of the chemical

elements out of the ethereal medium, and to explain their several atomic

weights and some other characteristics by their successive

complexity--hydrogen consisting of so many atoms of ethereal substance

united in a particular order, and so on. The speculation interested the

philosophers of the British Association, and was thought innocent, but

unsupported by facts. Surely Mr. Darwin's theory is none the worse,

morally, for having some foundation in fact.

In our opinion, then, it is far easier to vindicate a theistic character

for the derivative theory, than to establish the theory itself upon

adequate scientific evidence. Perhaps scarcely any philosophical objection

can be urged against the former to which the nebular hypothesis is not

equally exposed. Yet the nebular hypothesis finds general scientific

acceptance, and is adopted as the basis of an extended and recondite

illustration in Mr. Agassiz's great work.[I-13]

How the author of this book harmonizes his scientific theory with his

philosophy and theology, he has not informed us. Paley in his celebrated

analogy with the watch, insists that if the timepiece were so constructed

as to produce other similar watches, after a manner of generation in

animals, the argument from design would be all the stronger. What is to

hinder Mr. Darwin from giving Paley's argument a further a-fortiori

extension to the supposed case of a watch which sometimes produces better

watches, and contrivances adapted to successive conditions, and so at

length turns out a chronometer, a town clock, or a series of organisms of

the same type? From certain incidental expressions at the close of the

volume, taken in connection with the motto adopted from Whewell, we judge

it probable that our author regards the whole system of Nature as one which

had received at its first formation the impress of the will of its Author,

foreseeing the varied yet necessary laws of its action throughout the whole

of its existence, ordaining when and bow each particular of the stupendous

plan should be realized in effect, and--with Him to whom to will is to

do--in ordaining doing it, Whether profoundly philosophical or not, a view

maintained by eminent philosophical physicists and theologians, such as

Babbage on the one hand and Jowett on the other, will hardly be denounced

as atheism. Perhaps Mr. Darwin would prefer to express his idea in a more

general way, by adopting the thoughtful words of one of the most eminent

naturalists of this or any age, substituting the word action for "thought,"

since it is the former (from which alone the latter can be inferred) that

he has been considering. "Taking Nature as exhibiting thought for my guide,

it appears to me that while human thought is consecutive, Divine thought is

simultaneous, embracing at the same time and forever, in the past, the

present and the future, the most diversified relations among hundreds of

thousands of organized beings, each of which may present complications

again, which to study and understand even imperfectly--as for instance man

himself-- mankind has already spent thousands of years."[I-14] In thus

conceiving of the Divine Power in act as coetaneous with Divine Thought,

and of both as far as may be apart from the human element of time, our

author may regard the intervention of the Creator either as, humanly

speaking, done from all time, or else as doing through all time. In the

ultimate analysis we suppose that every philosophical theist must adopt one

or the other conception.

A perversion of the first view leads toward atheism, the notion of an

eternal sequence of cause and effect, for which there is no first cause--a

view which few sane persons can long rest in. The danger which may threaten

the second view is pantheism. We feel safe from either error, in our

profound conviction that there is order in the universe; that order

presupposes mind; design, will; and mind or will, personality. Thus

guarded, we much prefer the second of the two conceptions of causation, as

the more philosophical as well as Christian view--a view which leaves us

with the same difficulties and the same mysteries in Nature as in

Providence, and no other. Natural law, upon this view, is the human

conception of continued and orderly Divine action.

We do not suppose that less power, or other power, is required to sustain

the universe and carry on its operations, than to bring it into being. So,

while conceiving no improbability of "interventions of Creative mind in

Nature," if by such is meant the bringing to pass of new and fitting events

at fitting times, we leave it for profounder minds to establish, if they

can, a rational distinction in kind between his working in Nature carrying

on operations, and in initiating those operations.

We wished, under the light of such views, to examine more critically the

doctrine of this book, especially of some questionable parts; for instance,

its explanation of the natural development of organs, and its implication

of a "necessary acquirement of mental power" in the ascending scale of

gradation. But there is room only for the general declaration that we

cannot think the Cosmos a series which began with chaos and ends with mind,

or of which mind is a result: that, if, by the successive origination of

species and organs through natural agencies, the author means a series of

events which succeed each other irrespective of a continued directing

intelligence--events which mind does not order and shape to destined

ends--then he has not established that doctrine, nor advanced toward its

establishment, but has accumulated improbabilities beyond all belief. Take

the formation and the origination of the successive degrees of complexity

of eyes as a specimen. The treatment of this subject (pp. i88, 189), upon

one interpretation, is open to all the objections referred to; but, if, on

the other hand, we may rightly compare the eye "to a telescope, perfected

by the long-continued efforts of the highest human intellects," we could

carry out the analogy, and draw satisfactory illustrations and inferences

from it. The essential, the directly intellectual thing is the making of the

improvements in the telescope or the steam-engine. Whether the successive

improvements, being small at each step, and consistent with the general

type of the instrument, are applied to some of the individual machines, or

entire new machines are constructed for each, is a minor matter. Though, if

machines could engender, the adaptive method would be most economical; and

economy is said to be a paramount law in Nature. The origination of the

improvements, and the successive adaptations to meet new conditions or

subserve other ends, are what answer to the supernatural, and therefore

remain inexplicable. As to bringing them into use, though wisdom foresees

the result, the circumstances and the natural competition will take care of

that, in the long-run. The old ones will go out of use fast enough, except

where an old and simple machine remains still best adapted to a particular

purpose or condition--as, for instance, the old Newcomen engine for pumping

out coal-pits. If there's a Divinity that shapes these ends, the whole is

intelligible and reasonable; otherwise, not.

We regret that the necessity of discussing philosophical questions has

prevented a fuller examination of the theory itself, and of the interesting

scientific points which are brought to bear in its favor. One of its

neatest points, certainly a very strong one for the local origination of

species, and their gradual diffusion under natural agencies, we must

reserve for some other convenient opportunity.

The work is a scientific one, rigidly restricted to its direct object; and

by its science it must stand or fall. Its aim is, probably, not to deny

creative intervention in Nature--for the admission of the independent

origination of certain types does away with all antecedent improbability of

as much intervention as may be required--but to maintain that Natural

Selection, in explaining the facts, explains also many classes of facts

which thousand-fold repeated independent acts of creation do not explain,

but leave more mysterious than ever. How far the author has succeeded, the

scientific world will in due time be able to pronounce.

As these sheets are passing through the press, a copy of the second edition

has reached us. We notice with pleasure the insertion of an additional

motto on the reverse of the title page, directly claiming the theistic view

which we have vindicated for the doctrine. Indeed, these pertinent words of

the eminently wise Bishop Butler comprise, in their simplest expression,

the whole substance of our later pages:

"The only distinct meaning of the word 'natural' is stated, fixed, or

settled; since what is natural as much requires and presupposes an

intelligent mind to render it so, i.e., to effect it continually or at

stated times, as what is supernatural or miraculous does to effect it for

once."

II

DESIGN VERSUS NECESSITY

DISCUSSION BETWEEN TWO READERS

OF DARWIN'S TREATISE ON THE

ORIGIN OF SPECIES, UPON ITS

NATURAL THEOLOGY

(American Journal of Science and Arts, September, 1860)

D.T.--Is Darwin's theory atheistic or pantheistic? or, does it tend to

atheism or pantheism? Before attempting any solution of this question,

permit me to say a few words tending to obtain a definite conception of

necessity and design, as the sources from which events may originate, each

independent of the other; and we shall, perhaps, best attain a clear

understanding of each, by the illustration of an example in which simple

human designers act upon the physical powers of common matter.

Suppose, then, a square billiard-table to be placed with its corners

directed to the four cardinal points. Suppose a player, standing at the

north corner, to strike a red ball directly to the south, his design being

to lodge the ball in the south pocket; which design, if not interfered

with, must, of course be accomplished. Then suppose another player,

standing at the east corner, to direct a white ball to the west corner. This

design also, if not interfered with, must be accomplished. Next suppose both

players to strike their balls at the same instant, with like forces, in the

directions before given. In this case the balls would not pass as before,

namely, the red ball to the south, and the white ball to the west, but they

must both meet and strike each other in the centre of the table, and, being

perfectly elastic, the red ball must pass to the west pocket, and the white

ball to the south pocket. We may suppose that the players acted wholly

without concert with each other, indeed, they may be ignorant of each other'

s design, or even of each other's existence; still we know that the events

must happen as herein described. Now, the first half of the course of these

two balls is from an impulse, or proceeds from a power, acting from design.

Each player has the design of driving his ball across the table in a

diagonal line to accomplish its lodgment at the opposite corner of the

table. Neither designed that his ball should be deflected from that course

and pass to another corner of the table. The direction of this second part

of the motion must be referred entirely to necessity, which directly

interferes with the purpose of him who designed the rectilinear direction.

We are not, in this case, to go back to find design in the creation of the

powers or laws of inertia and elasticity, after the order of which the

deflection, at the instant of collision, necessarily takes place. We know

that these powers were inherent in the balls, and were not created to

answer this special deflection. We are required, by the hypothesis, to

confine attention in point of time, from the instant preceding the impact

of the balls, to the time of their arrival at the opposite corners of the

table. The cues aremoved by design. The impacts are acts from design. The

first half of the motion of each ball is under the direction of design. We

mean by this the particular design of each player. But, at the instant of

the collision of the balls upon each other, direction from design ceases,

and the balls no longer obey the particular designs of the players, the

ends or purposes intended by them are not accomplished, but frustrated, by

necessity, or by the necessary action of the powers of inertia and

elasticity, which are inherent in matter, and are not made by any design of

a Creator for this special action, or to serve this special purpose, but

would have existed in the materials of which the balls were made, although

the players had never been born.

I have thus stated, by a simple example in physical action, what is meant

by design and what by necessity; and that the latter may exist without any

dependence upon the former. If I have given the statement with what may be

thought, by some, unnecessary prolixity, I have only to say that I have

found many minds to have a great difficulty in conceiving of necessity as

acting altogether independent of design.

Let me now trace these principles as sources of action in Darwin's work or

theory. Let us see how much there is of design acting to produce a foreseen

end, and thus proving a reasoning and self-conscious Creator; and how much

of mere blind power acting without rational design, or without a specific

purpose or conscious foresight. Mr. Darwin has specified in a most clear

and unmistakable manner the operation of his three great powers, or rather,

the three great laws by which the organic power of life acts in the

formation of an eye. (See p. 169.) Following the method he has pointed out,

we will take a number of animals of the same species, in which the eye is

not developed. They may have all the other senses, with the organs of

nutrition, circulation, respiration, and locomotion. They all have a brain

and nerves, and some of these nerves may be sensitive to light; but have no

combination of retina, membranes, humors, etc., by which the distinct

image of an object may be formed and conveyed by the optic nerve to the

cognizance of the internal perception, or the mind. The animal in this case

would be merely sensible of the difference between light and darkness. He

would have no power of discriminating form, size, shape, or color, the

difference of objects, and to gain from these a knowledge of their being

useful or hurtful, friends or enemies. Up to this point there is no

appearance of necessity upon the scene. The billiard-balls have not yet

struck together, and we will suppose that none of the arguments that may be

used to prove, from this organism, thus existing, that it could not have

come into form and being without a creator acting to this end with

intelligence and design, are opposed by anything that can be found in

Darwin's theory; for, so far, Darwin's laws are supposed not to have come

into operation. Give the animals, thus organized, food and room, and they

may go on, from generation to generation, upon the same organic level. Those

individuals that, from natural variation, are born with light-nerves a

little more sensitive to light than their parents, will cross or interbreed

with those who have the same organs a little less sensitive, and thus the

mean standard will be kept up without any advancement. If our

billiard-table were sufficiently extensive, i. e., infinite, the balls

rolled from the corners would never meet, and the necessity which we have

supposed to deflect them would never act.

The moment, however, that the want of space or food commences natural

selection begins. Here the balls meet, and all future action is governed by

necessity. The best forms, or those nerves most sensitive to light,

connected with incipient membranes and humors for corneas and lenses, are

picked out and preserved by natural selection, of necessity. All cannot

live and propagate, and it is a necessity, obvious to all, that the weaker

must perish, if the theory be true. Working on, in this way, through

countless generations, the eye is at last

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formed in all its beauty and excellence. It must (always assuming that this

theory is true) result from this combined action of natural variation, the

struggle for life, and natural selection, with as much certainty as the

balls, after collision, must pass to corners of the table different from

those to which they were directed, and so far forth as the eye is formed by

these laws, acting upward from the nerve merely sensitive to light, we can

no more infer design, and from design a designer, than we can infer design

in the direction of the billiard-balls after the collision. Both are

sufficiently accounted for by blind powers acting under a blind necessity.

Take away the struggle for life from the one, and the collision of the

balls from the other--and neither of these was designed--and the animal

would have gone on without eyes. The balls would have found the corners of

the table to which they were first directed.

While, therefore, it seems to me clear that one who can find no proof of

the existence of an intelligent Creator except through the evidence of

design in the organic world, can find no evidence of such design in the

construction of the eye, if it were constructed under the operation of

Darwin's laws, I shall not for one moment contend that these laws are

incompatible with design and a self-conscious, intelligent Creator. Such

design might, indeed, have coexisted with the necessity or natural

selection; and so the billiard-players might have designed the collision

of their balls; but neither the formation of the eye, nor the path of the

balls after collision, furnishes any sufficient proof of such design in

either case.

One, indeed, who believes, from revelation or any other cause, in the

existence of such a Creator, the fountain and Source of all things in

heaven above and in the earth beneath, will see in natural variation, the

struggle for life, and natural selection, only the order or mode in which

this Creator, in his own perfect wisdom, sees fit to act. Happy is he who

can thus see and adore. But how many are there who have no such

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