Again:—
“Yet there must be, on my view, some unknown but highly efficient means for their transportation” (p. 397).
“On my view” became “according to our view” in 1869.
Again:—
“I believe this grand fact can receive no sort of explanation on the ordinary view of independent creation; whereas, on the view here maintained, it is obvious that the Galapagos Islands would be likely to receive colonists . . . from America, and the Cape de Verde Islands from Africa; and that such colonists would be liable to modification; the principle of inheritance still betraying their original birth-place” (p. 399).
Again:—
“With respect to the distinct species of the same genus which, on my theory, must have spread from one parent source, if we make the same allowances as before,” &c.
“On my theory” became “on our theory” in 1869.
Again:—
“On my theory these several relations throughout time and space are intelligible; . . . the forms within each class have been connected by the same bond of ordinary generation; . . . in both cases the laws of variation have been the same, and modifications have been accumulated by the same power of natural selection” (p. 410).
“On my theory” became “according to our theory” in 1869, and natural selection is no longer a power, but has become a means.
Again:—
“I believe that something more is included, and that propinquity of descent—the only known cause of the similarity of organic beings—is the bond, hidden as it is by various degrees of modification, which is partially revealed to us by our classification” (p. 418).
Again:—
“Thus, on the view which I hold, the natural system is genealogical in its arrangement, like a pedigree” (p. 422).
“On the view which I hold” was cut out in 1872.
Again:—
“We may feel almost sure, on the theory of descent, that these characters have been inherited from a common ancestor” (p. 426).
Again:—
“On my view of characters being of real importance for classification only in so far as they reveal descent, we can clearly understand,” &c. (p. 427).
“On my view” became “on the view” in 1872.
Again:—
“The more aberrant any form is, the greater must be the number of connecting forms which, on my theory, have been exterminated and utterly lost” (p. 429).
The words “on my theory” were excised in 1869.
Again:—
“Finally, we have seen that natural selection . . . explains that great and universal feature in the affinities of all organic beings, namely, their subordination in group under group. We use the element of descent in classing the individuals of both sexes, &c.; . . . we use descent in classing acknowledged varieties; . . . and I believe this element of descent is the hidden bond of connection which naturalists have sought under the term of the natural system” (p. 433).
Lamarck was of much the same opinion, as I showed in “Evolution Old and New.” He wrote:—“An arrangement should be considered systematic, or arbitrary, when it does not conform to the genealogical order taken by nature in the development of the things arranged, and when, by consequence, it is not founded on well-considered analogies. There is a natural order in every department of nature; it is the order in which its several component items have been successively developed.” [195a] The point, however, which should more particularly engage our attention is that Mr. Darwin in the passage last quoted uses “natural selection” and “descent” as though they were convertible terms.
Again:—
“Nothing can be more hopeless than to attempt to explain this 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 . . . The explanation is manifest on the theory of the natural selection of successive slight modifications,” &c. (p. 435).
This now stands—“The explanation is to a large extent simple, on the theory of the selection of successive, slight modifications.” I do not like “a large extent” of simplicity; but, waiving this, the point at issue is not whether the ordinary course of things ensures a quasi-selection of the types that are best adapted to their surroundings, with accumulation of modification in various directions, and hence wide eventual difference between species descended from common progenitors—no evolutionist since 1750 has doubted this—but whether a general principle underlies the modifications from among which the quasi-selection is made, or whether they are destitute of such principle and referable, as far as we are concerned, to chance only. Waiving this again, we note that the theories of independent creation and of natural selection are contrasted, as though they were the only two alternatives; knowing the two alternatives to be independent creation and descent with modification, we naturally took natural selection to mean descent with modification.
Again:—
“On the theory of natural selection we can satisfactorily answer these questions” (p. 437).
“Satisfactorily” now stands “to a certain extent.”
Again:—
“On my view these terms may be used literally” (pp. 438, 439).
“On my view” became “according to the views here maintained such language may be,” &c., in 1869.
Again:—
“I believe all these facts can be explained as follows, on the view of descent with modification” (p. 443).
This sentence now ends at “follows.”
Again:—
“Let us take a genus of birds, descended, on my theory, from some one parent species, and of which the several new species have become modified through natural selection in accordance with their divers habits” (p. 446).
The words “on my theory” were cut out in 1869, and the passage now stands, “Let us take a group of birds, descended from some ancient form and modified through natural selection for different habits.”
Again:—
“On my view of descent with modification, the origin of rudimentary organs is simple” (p. 454).
“On my view” became “on the view” in 1869.
Again:—
“On the view of descent with modification,” &c. (p. 455).
Again:—
“On this same view of descent with modification all the great facts of morphology become intelligible” (p. 456).
Again:—
“That many and grave objections may be advanced against the theory of descent with modification through natural selection, I do not deny” (p. 459).
This now stands, “That many and serious objections may be advanced against the theory of descent with modification through variation and natural selection, I do not deny.”
Again:—
“There are, it must be admitted, cases of special difficulty on the theory of natural selection” (p. 460).
“On” has become “opposed to;” it is not easy to see why this alteration was made, unless because “opposed to” is longer.
Again:—
“Turning to geographical distribution, the difficulties encountered on the theory of descent with modification are grave enough.”
“Grave” has become “serious,” but there is no other change (p. 461).
Again:—
“As on the theory of natural selection an interminable number of intermediate forms must have existed,” &c.
“On” has become “according to”—which is certainly longer, but does not appear to possess any other advantage over “on.” It is not easy to understand why Mr. Darwin should have strained at such a gnat as “on,” though feeling no discomfort in such an expression as “an interminable number.”
Again:—
“This is the most forcible of the many objections which may be urged against my theory . . . For certainly, on my theory,” &c. (p. 463).
The “my” in each case became “the” in 1869.
Again:—
“Such is the sum of the several chief objections and difficulties which may be justly urged against my theory” (p. 465).
“My” became “the” in 1869.
Again:—
“Grave as these several difficulties are, in my judgment they do not overthrow the theory of descent with modifications” (p. 466).
This now stands, “Serious as these several objections are, in my judgment they are by no means sufficient to overthrow the theory of descent with subsequent modification;” which, again, is longer, and shows at what little, little gnats Mr. Darwin could strain, but is no material amendment on the original passage.
Again:—
“The theory of natural selection, even if we looked no further than this, seems to me to be in itself probable” (p. 469).
This now stands, “The theory of natural selection, even if we look no further than this, seems to be in the highest degree probable.” It is not only probable, but was very sufficiently proved long before Mr. Darwin was born, only it must be the right natural selection and not Mr. Charles Darwin’s.
Again:—
“It is inexplicable, on the theory of creation, why a part developed, &c., . . . but, on my view, this part has undergone,” &c. (p. 474).
“On my view” became “on our view” in 1869.
Again:—
“Glancing at instincts, marvellous as some are, they offer no greater difficulty than does corporeal structure on the theory of the natural selection of successive, slight, but profitable modifications” (p. 474).
Again:—
“On the view of all the species of the same genus having descended from a common parent, and having inherited much in common, we can understand how it is,” &c. (p. 474).
Again:—
“If we admit that the geological record is imperfect in an extreme degree, then such facts as the record gives, support the theory of descent with modification.
“ . . . The extinction of species . . . almost inevitably follows on the principle of natural selection” (p. 475).
The word “almost” has got a great deal to answer for.
Again:—
“We can understand, on the theory of descent with modification, most of the great leading facts in Distribution” (p. 476).
Again:—
“The existence of closely allied or representative species in any two areas, implies, on the theory of descent with modification, that the same parents formerly inhabited both areas . . . It must be admitted that these facts receive no explanation on the theory of creation . . . The fact . . . is intelligible on the theory of natural selection, with its contingencies of extinction and divergence of character” (p. 478).
Again:—
“Innumerable other such facts at once explain themselves on the theory of descent with slow and slight successive modifications” (p. 479).
“Any one whose disposition leads him to attach more weight to unexplained difficulties than to the explanation of a certain number of facts, will certainly reject my theory” (p. 482).
“My theory” became “the theory” in 1869.
From this point to the end of the book the claim is so ubiquitous, either expressly or by implication, that it is difficult to know what not to quote. I must, however, content myself with only a few more extracts. Mr. Darwin says:—
“It may be asked how far I extend the doctrine of the modification of species” (p. 482).
Again:—
“Analogy would lead me one step further, namely, to the belief that all animals and plants have descended from some one prototype . . . Therefore I should infer from analogy that probably all the organic beings which have ever lived on this earth have descended from some one primordial form, into which life was first breathed.”
From an amœba—Adam, in fact, though not in name. This last sentence is now completely altered, as well it might be.
Again:—
“When the views entertained in this volume on the origin of species, or when analogous views are generally admitted, we can dimly foresee that there will be a considerable revolution in natural history” (p. 434).
Possibly. This now stands, “When the views advanced by me in this volume, and by Mr. Wallace, or when analogous views on the origin of species are generally admitted, we can dimly foresee,” &c. When the “Origin of Species” came out we knew nothing of any analogous views, and Mr. Darwin’s words passed unnoticed. I do not say that he knew they would, but he certainly ought to have known.
Again:—
“A grand and almost untrodden field of inquiry will be opened, on the causes and laws of variation, on correlation of growth, on the effects of use and disuse, on the direct action of external conditions, and so forth” (p. 486).
Buffon and Lamarck had trodden this field to some purpose, but not a hint to this effect is vouchsafed to us. Again;—
“When I view all beings not as special creations, but as the lineal descendants of some few beings which lived long before the first bed of the Silurian system was deposited, they seem to me to become ennobled . . . We can so far take a prophetic glance into futurity as to foretell that it will be the common and widely spread species, belonging to the larger and dominant groups, which will ultimately prevail and procreate new and dominant species.”
There is no alteration in this except that “Silurian” has become “Cambrian.”
The idyllic paragraph with which Mr. Darwin concludes his book contains no more special claim to the theory of descent en bloc than many another which I have allowed to pass unnoticed; it has been, moreover, dealt with in an earlier chapter (Chapter XII.)
I have quoted in all ninety-seven passages, as near as I can make them, in which Mr. Darwin claimed the theory of descent, either expressly by speaking of “my theory” in such connection that the theory of descent ought to be, and, as the event has shown, was, understood as being intended, or by implication, as in the opening passages of the “Origin of Species,” in which he tells us how he had thought the matter out without acknowledging obligation of any kind to earlier writers. The original edition of the “Origin of Species” contained 490 pp., exclusive of index; a claim, therefore, more or less explicit, to the theory of descent was made on the average about once in every five pages throughout the book from end to end; the claims were most prominent in the most important parts, that is to say, at the beginning and end of the work, and this made them more effective than they are made even by their frequency. A more ubiquitous claim than this it would be hard to find in the case of any writer advancing a new theory; it is difficult, therefore, to understand how Mr. Grant Allen could have allowed himself to say that Mr. Darwin “laid no sort of claim to originality or proprietorship” in the theory of descent with modification.
Nevertheless I have only found one place where Mr. Darwin pinned himself down beyond possibility of retreat, however ignominious, by using the words “my theory of descent with modification.” [202a] He often, as I have said, speaks of “my theory,” and then shortly afterwards of “descent with modification,” under such circumstances that no one who had not been brought up in the school of Mr. Gladstone could doubt that the two expressions referred to the same thing. He seems to have felt that he must be a poor wriggler if he could not wriggle out of this; give him any loophole, however small, and Mr. Darwin could trust himself to get out through it; but he did not like saying what left no loophole at all, and “my theory of descent with modification” closed all exits so firmly that it is surprising he should ever have allowed himself to use these words. As I have said, Mr. Darwin only used this direct categorical form of claim in one place; and even here, after it had stood through three editions, two of which had been largely altered, he could stand it no longer, and altered the “my” into “the” in 1866, with the fourth edition of the “Origin of Species.”
This was the only one of the original forty-five my’s that was cut out before the appearance of the fifth edition in 1869, and its excision throws curious light upon the working of Mr. Darwin’s mind. The selection of the most categorical my out of the whole forty-five, shows that Mr. Darwin knew all about his my’s, and, while seeing reason to remove this, held that the others might very well stand. He even left “On my view of descent with modification,” [203a] which, though more capable of explanation than “my theory,” &c., still runs it close; nevertheless the excision of even a single my that had been allowed to stand through such close revision as those to which the “Origin of Species” had been subjected betrays uneasiness of mind, for it is impossible that even Mr. Darwin should not have known that though the my excised in 1866 was the most technically categorical, the others were in reality just as guilty, though no tower of Siloam in the shape of excision fell upon them. If, then, Mr. Darwin was so uncomfortable about this one as to cut it out, it is probable he was far from comfortable about the others.
This view derives confirmation from the fact that in 1869, with the fifth edition of the “Origin of Species,” there was a stampede of my’s throughout the whole work, no less than thirty out of the original forty-five being changed into “the,” “our,” “this,” or some other word, which, though having all the effect of my, still did not say “my” outright. These my’s were, if I may say so, sneaked out; nothing was said to explain their removal to the reader or call attention to it. Why, it may be asked, having been considered during the revisions of 1861 and 1866, and with only one exception allowed to stand, why should they be smitten with a homing instinct in such large numbers with the fifth edition? It cannot be maintained that Mr. Darwin had had his attention called now for the first time to the fact that he had used my perhaps a little too freely, and had better be more sparing of it for the future. The my excised in 1866 shows that Mr. Darwin had already considered this question, and saw no reason to remove any but the one that left him no loophole. Why, then, should that which was considered and approved in 1859, 1861, and 1866 (not to mention the second edition of 1859 or 1860) be retreated from with every appearance of panic in 1869? Mr. Darwin could not well have cut out more than he did—not at any rate without saying something about it, and it would not be easy to know exactly what say. Of the fourteen my’s that were left in 1869, five more were cut out in 1872, and nine only were allowed eventually to remain. We naturally ask, Why leave any if thirty-six ought to be cut out, or why cut out thirty-six if nine ought to be left—especially when the claim remains practically just the same after the excision as before it?
I imagine complaint had early reached Mr. Darwin that the difference between himself and his predecessors was unsubstantial and hard to grasp; traces of some such feeling appear even in the late Sir Charles Lyell’s “Principles of Geology,” in which he writes that he had reprinted his abstract of Lamarck’s doctrine word for word, “in justice to Lamarck, in order to show how nearly the opinions taught by him at the beginning of this century resembled those now in vogue among a large body of naturalists respecting the infinite variability of species, and the progressive development in past time of the organic world.” [205a] Sir Charles Lyell could not have written thus if he had thought that Mr. Darwin had already done “justice to Lamarck,” nor is it likely that he stood alone in thinking as he did. It is probable that more reached Mr. Darwin than reached the public, and that the historical sketch prefixed to all editions after the first six thousand copies had been sold—meagre and slovenly as it is—was due to earlier manifestation on the part of some of Mr. Darwin’s friends of the feeling that was afterwards expressed by Sir Charles Lyell in the passage quoted above. I suppose the removal of the my that was cut out in 1866 to be due partly to the Gladstonian tendencies of Mr. Darwin’s mind, which would naturally make that particular my at all times more or less offensive to him, and partly to the increase of objection to it that must have ensued on the addition of the “brief but imperfect” historical sketch in 1861; it is doubtless only by an oversight that this particular my was not cut out in 1861. The stampede of 1869 was probably occasioned by the appearance in Germany of Professor Haeckel’s “History of Creation.” This was published in 1868, and Mr. Darwin no doubt foresaw that it would be translated into English, as indeed it subsequently was. In this book some account is given—very badly, but still much more fully than by Mr. Darwin—of Lamarck’s work; and even Erasmus Darwin is mentioned—inaccurately—but still he is mentioned. Professor Haeckel says:—
“Although the theory of development had been already maintained at the beginning of this century by several great naturalists, especially by Lamarck and Goethe, it only received complete demonstration and causal foundation nine years ago through Darwin’s work, and it is on this account that it is now generally (though not altogether rightly) regarded as exclusively Mr. Darwin’s theory.” [206a]
Later on, after giving nearly a hundred pages to the works of the early evolutionists—pages that would certainly disquiet the sensitive writer who had cut out the “my” which disappeared in 1866—he continued:—
“We must distinguish clearly (though this is not usually done) between, firstly, the theory of descent as advanced by Lamarck, which deals only with the fact of all animals and plants being descended from a common source, and secondly, Darwin’s theory of natural selection, which shows us why this progressive modification of organic forms took place” (p. 93).
This passage is as inaccurate as most of those by Professor Haeckel that I have had occasion to examine have proved to be. Letting alone that Buffon, not Lamarck, is the foremost name in connection with descent, I have already shown in “Evolution Old and New” that Lamarck goes exhaustively into the how and why of modification. He alleges the conservation, or preservation, in the ordinary course of nature, of the most favourable among variations that have been induced mainly by function; this, I have sufficiently explained, is natural selection, though the words “natural selection” are not employed; but it is the true natural selection which (if so metaphorical an expression is allowed to pass) actually does take place with the results ascribed to it by Lamarck, and not the false Charles-Darwinian natural selection that does not correspond with facts, and cannot result in specific differences such as we now observe. But, waiving this, the “my’s,” within which a little rift had begun to show itself in 1866, might well become as mute in 1869 as they could become without attracting attention, when Mr. Darwin saw the passages just quoted, and the hundred pages or so that lie between them.
I suppose Mr. Darwin cut out the five more my’s that disappeared in 1872 because he had not yet fully recovered from his scare, and allowed nine to remain in order to cover his retreat, and tacitly say that he had not done anything and knew nothing whatever about it. Practically, indeed, he had not retreated, and must have been well aware that he was only retreating technically; for he must have known that the absence of acknowledgment to any earlier writers in the body of his work, and the presence of the many passages in which every word conveyed the impression that the writer claimed descent with modification, amounted to a claim as much when the actual word “my” had been taken out as while it was allowed to stand. We took Mr. Darwin at his own estimate because we could not for a moment suppose that a man of means, position, and education,—one, moreover, who was nothing if he was not unself-seeking—could play such a trick upon us while pretending to take us into his confidence; hence the almost universal belief on the part of the public, of which Professors Haeckel and Ray Lankester and Mr. Grant Allen alike complain—namely, that Mr. Darwin is the originator of the theory of descent, and that his variations are mainly functional. Men of science must not be surprised if the readiness with which we responded to Mr. Darwin’s appeal to our confidence is succeeded by a proportionate resentment when the peculiar shabbiness of his action becomes more generally understood. For myself, I know not which most to wonder at—the meanness of the writer himself, or the greatness of the service that, in spite of that meanness, he unquestionably rendered.
If Mr. Darwin had been dealing fairly by us, when he saw that we had failed to catch the difference between the Erasmus-Darwinian theory of descent through natural selection from among variations that are mainly functional, and his own alternative theory of descent through natural selection from among variations that are mainly accidental, and, above all, when he saw we were crediting him with other men’s work, he would have hastened to set us right. “It is with great regret,” he might have written, “and with no small surprise, that I find how generally I have been misunderstood as claiming to be the originator of the theory of descent with modification; nothing can be further from my intention; the theory of descent has been familiar to all biologists from the year 1749, when Buffon advanced it in its most comprehensive form, to the present day.” If Mr. Darwin had said something to the above effect, no one would have questioned his good faith, but it is hardly necessary to say that nothing of the kind is to be found in any one of Mr. Darwin’s many books or many editions; nor is the reason why the requisite correction was never made far to seek. For if Mr. Darwin had said as much as I have put into his mouth above, he should have said more, and would ere long have been compelled to have explained to us wherein the difference between himself and his predecessors precisely lay, and this would not have been easy. Indeed, if Mr. Darwin had been quite open with us he would have had to say much as follows:—
“I should point out that, according to the evolutionists of the last century, improvement in the eye, as in any other organ, is mainly due to persistent, rational, employment of the organ in question, in such slightly modified manner as experience and changed surroundings may suggest. You will have observed that, according to my system, this goes for very little, and that the accumulation of fortunate accidents, irrespectively of the use that may be made of them, is by far the most important means of modification. Put more briefly still, the distinction between me and my predecessors lies in this;—my predecessors thought they knew the main normal cause or principle that underlies variation, whereas I think that there is no general principle underlying it at all, or that even if there is, we know hardly anything about it. This is my distinctive feature; there is no deception; I shall not consider the arguments of my predecessors, nor show in what respect they are insufficient; in fact, I shall say nothing whatever about them. Please to understand that I alone am in possession of the master key that can unlock the bars of the future progress of evolutionary science; so great an improvement, in fact, is my discovery that it justifies me in claiming the theory of descent generally, and I accordingly claim it. If you ask me in what my discovery consists, I reply in this;—that the variations which we are all agreed accumulate are caused—by variation. [209a] I admit that this is not telling you much about them, but it is as much as I think proper to say at present; above all things, let me caution you against thinking that there is any principle of general application underlying variation.”
This would have been right. This is what Mr. Darwin would have had to have said if he had been frank with us; it is not surprising, therefore, that he should have been less frank than might have been wished. I have no doubt that many a time between 1859 and 1882, the year of his death, Mr. Darwin bitterly regretted his initial error, and would have been only too thankful to repair it, but he could only put the difference between himself and the early evolutionists clearly before his readers at the cost of seeing his own system come tumbling down like a pack of cards; this was more than he could stand, so he buried his face, ostrich-like, in the sand. I know no more pitiable figure in either literature or science.
As I write these lines (July 1886) I see a paragraph in Nature which I take it is intended to convey the impression that Mr. Francis Darwin’s life and letters of his father will appear shortly. I can form no idea whether Mr. F. Darwin’s forthcoming work is likely to appear before this present volume; still less can I conjecture what it may or may not contain; but I can give the reader a criterion by which to test the good faith with which it is written. If Mr. F. Darwin puts the distinctive feature that differentiates Mr. C. Darwin from his predecessors clearly before his readers, enabling them to seize and carry it away with them once for all—if he shows no desire to shirk this question, but, on the contrary, faces it and throws light upon it, then we shall know that his work is sincere, whatever its shortcomings may be in other respects; and when people are doing their best to help us and make us understand all that they understand themselves, a great deal may be forgiven them. If, on the other hand, we find much talk about the wonderful light which Mr. Charles Darwin threw on evolution by his theory of natural selection, without any adequate attempt to make us understand the difference between the natural selection, say, of Mr. Patrick Matthew, and that of his more famous successor, then we may know that we are being trifled with; and that an attempt is being again made to throw dust in our eyes.
It is here that Mr. Grant Allen’s book fails. It is impossible to believe it written in good faith, with no end in view, save to make something easy which might otherwise be found difficult; on the contrary, it leaves the impression of having been written with a desire to hinder us, as far as possible, from understanding things that Mr. Allen himself understood perfectly well.
After saying that “in the public mind Mr. Darwin is perhaps most commonly regarded as the discoverer and founder of the evolution hypothesis,” he continues that “the grand idea which he did really originate was not the idea of ‘descent with modification,’ but the idea of ‘natural selection,’” and adds that it was Mr. Darwin’s “peculiar glory” to have shown the “nature of the machinery” by which all the variety of animal and vegetable life might have been produced by slow modifications in one or more original types. “The theory of evolution,” says Mr. Allen, “already existed in a more or less shadowy and undeveloped shape;” it was Mr. Darwin’s “task in life to raise this theory from the rank of a mere plausible and happy guess to the rank of a highly elaborate and almost universally accepted biological system” (pp. 3–5).
We all admit the value of Mr. Darwin’s work as having led to the general acceptance of evolution. No one who remembers average middle-class opinion on this subject before 1860 will deny that it was Mr. Darwin who brought us all round to descent with modification; but Mr. Allen cannot rightly say that evolution had only existed before Mr. Darwin’s time in “a shadowy, undeveloped state,” or as “a mere plausible and happy guess.” It existed in the same form as that in which most people accept it now, and had been carried to its extreme development, before Mr. Darwin’s father had been born. It is idle to talk of Buffon’s work as “a mere plausible and happy guess,” or to imply that the first volume of the “Philosophie Zoologique” of Lamarck was a less full and sufficient demonstration of descent with modification than the “Origin of Species” is. It has its defects, shortcomings, and mistakes, but it is an incomparably sounder work than the “Origin of Species;” and though it contains the deplorable omission of any reference to Buffon, Lamarck does not first grossly misrepresent Buffon, and then tell him to go away, as Mr. Darwin did to the author of the “Vestiges” and to Lamarck. If Mr. Darwin was believed and honoured for saying much the same as Lamarck had said, it was because Lamarck had borne the brunt of the laughing. The “Origin of Species” was possible because the “Vestiges” had prepared the way for it. The “Vestiges” were made possible by Lamarck and Erasmus Darwin, and these two were made possible by Buffon. Here a somewhat sharper line can be drawn than is usually found possible when defining the ground covered by philosophers. No one broke the ground for Buffon to anything like the extent that he broke it for those who followed him, and these broke it for one another.
Mr. Allen says (p. 11) that, “in Charles Darwin’s own words, Lamarck ‘first did the eminent service of arousing attention to the probability of all change in the organic as well as in the inorganic world being the result of law, and not of miraculous interposition.’” Mr. Darwin did indeed use these words, but Mr. Allen omits the pertinent fact that he did not use them till six thousand copies of his work had been issued, and an impression been made as to its scope and claims which the event has shown to be not easily effaced; nor does he say that Mr. Darwin only pays these few words of tribute in a quasi-preface, which, though prefixed to his later editions of the “Origin of Species,” is amply neutralised by the spirit which I have shown to be omnipresent in the body of the work itself. Moreover, Mr. Darwin’s statement is inaccurate to an unpardonable extent; his words would be fairly accurate if applied to Buffon, but they do not apply to Lamarck.
Mr. Darwin continues that Lamarck “seems to attribute all the beautiful adaptations in nature, such as the long neck of the giraffe for browsing on the branches of trees,” to the effects of habit. Mr. Darwin should not say that Lamarck “seems” to do this. It was his business to tell us what led Lamarck to his conclusions, not what “seemed” to do so. Any one who knows the first volume of the “Philosophie Zoologique” will be aware that there is no “seems” in the matter. Mr. Darwin’s words “seem” to say that it really could not be worth any practical naturalist’s while to devote attention to Lamarck’s argument; the inquiry might be of interest to antiquaries, but Mr. Darwin had more important work in hand than following the vagaries of one who had been so completely exploded as Lamarck had been. “Seem” is to men what “feel” is to women; women who feel, and men who grease every other sentence with a “seem,” are alike to be looked on with distrust.
“Still,” continues Mr. Allen, “Darwin gave no sign. A flaccid, cartilaginous, unphilosophic evolutionism had full possession of the field for the moment, and claimed, as it were, to be the genuine representative of the young and vigorous biological creed, while he himself was in truth the real heir to all the honours of the situation. He was in possession of the master-key which alone could unlock the bars that opposed the progress of evolution, and still he waited. He could afford to wait. He was diligently collecting, amassing, investigating; eagerly reading every new systematic work, every book of travels, every scientific journal, every record of sport, or exploration, or discovery, to extract from the dead mass of undigested fact whatever item of implicit value might swell the definite co-ordinated series of notes in his own commonplace books for the now distinctly contemplated ‘Origin of Species.’ His way was to make all sure behind him, to summon up all his facts in irresistible array, and never to set out upon a public progress until he was secure against all possible attacks of the ever-watchful and alert enemy in the rear,” &c. (p. 73).
It would not be easy to beat this. Mr. Darwin’s worst enemy could wish him no more damaging eulogist.
Of the “Vestiges” Mr. Allen says that Mr. Darwin “felt sadly” the inaccuracy and want of profound technical knowledge everywhere displayed by the anonymous author. Nevertheless, long after, in the “Origin of Species,” the great naturalist wrote with generous appreciation of the “Vestiges of Creation”—“In my opinion it has done excellent service in this country in calling attention to the subject, in removing prejudice, and in thus preparing the ground for the reception of analogous views.”
I have already referred to the way in which Mr. Darwin treated the author of the “Vestiges,” and have stated the facts at greater length in “Evolution Old and New,” but it may be as well to give Mr. Darwin’s words in full; he wrote as follows on the third page of the original edition of the “Origin of Species”:—
“The author of the ‘Vestiges of Creation’ would, I presume, say that, after a certain unknown number of generations, some bird had given birth to a woodpecker, and some plant to the mistletoe, and that these had been produced perfect as we now see them; but this assumption seems to me to be no explanation, for it leaves the case of the coadaptation of organic beings to each other and to their physical conditions of life untouched and unexplained.”
The author of the “Vestiges” did, doubtless, suppose that “some bird” had given birth to a woodpecker, or more strictly, that a couple of birds had done so—and this is all that Mr. Darwin has committed himself to—but no one better knew that these two birds would, according to the author of the “Vestiges,” be just as much woodpeckers, and just as little woodpeckers, as they would be with Mr. Darwin himself. Mr. Chambers did not suppose that a woodpecker became a woodpecker per saltum though born of some widely different bird, but Mr. Darwin’s words have no application unless they convey this impression. The reader will note that though the impression is conveyed, Mr. Darwin avoids conveying it categorically. I suppose this is what Mr. Allen means by saying that he “made all things sure behind him.” Mr. Chambers did indeed believe in occasional sports; so did Mr. Darwin, and we have seen that in the later editions of the “Origin of Species” he found himself constrained to lay greater stress on these than he had originally done. Substantially, Mr. Chambers held much the same opinion as to the suddenness or slowness of modification as Mr. Darwin did, nor can it be doubted that Mr. Darwin knew this perfectly well.
What I have said about the woodpecker applies also to the mistletoe. Besides, it was Mr. Darwin’s business not to presume anything about the matter; his business was to tell us what the author of the “Vestiges” had said, or to refer us to the page of the “Vestiges” on which we should find this. I suppose he was too busy “collecting, amassing, investigating,” &c., to be at much pains not to misrepresent those who had been in the field before him. There is no other reference to the “Vestiges” in the “Origin of Species” than this suave but singularly fraudulent passage.
In his edition of 1860 the author of the “Vestiges” showed that he was nettled, and said it was to be regretted Mr. Darwin had read the “Vestiges” “almost as much amiss as if, like its declared opponents, he had an interest in misunderstanding it;” and a little lower he adds that Mr. Darwin’s book “in no essential respect contradicts the ‘Vestiges,’” but that, on the contrary, “while adding to its explanations of nature, it expressed the same general ideas.” [216a] This is substantially true; neither Mr. Darwin’s nor Mr. Chambers’s are good books, but the main object of both is to substantiate the theory of descent with modification, and, bad as the “Vestiges” is, it is ingenuous as compared with the “Origin of Species.” Subsequently to Mr. Chambers’ protest, and not till, as I have said, six thousand copies of the “Origin of Species” had been issued, the sentence complained of by Mr. Chambers was expunged, but without a word of retractation, and the passage which Mr. Allen thinks so generous was inserted into the “brief but imperfect” sketch which Mr. Darwin prefixed—after Mr. Chambers had been effectually snuffed out—to all subsequent editions of his “Origin of Species.” There is no excuse for Mr. Darwin’s not having said at least this much about the author of the “Vestiges” in his first edition; and on finding that he had misrepresented him in a passage which he did not venture to retain, he should not have expunged it quietly, but should have called attention to his mistake in the body of his book, and given every prominence in his power to the correction.
Let us now examine Mr. Allen’s record in the matter of natural selection. For years he was one of the foremost apostles of Neo-Darwinism, and any who said a good word for Lamarck were told that this was the “kind of mystical nonsense” from which Mr. Allen “had hoped Mr. Darwin had for ever saved us.” [216b] Then in October 1883 came an article in “Mind,” from which it appeared as though Mr. Allen had abjured Mr. Darwin and all his works.
“There are only two conceivable ways,” he then wrote, “in which any increment of brain power can ever have arisen in any individual. The one is the Darwinian way, by spontaneous variation, that is to say, by variation due to minute physical circumstances affecting the individual in the germ. The other is the Spencerian way, by functional increment, that is to say, by the effect of increased use and constant exposure to varying circumstances during conscious life.”
Mr. Allen calls this the Spencerian view, and so it is in so far as that Mr. Spencer has adopted it. Most people will call it Lamarckian. This, however, is a detail. Mr. Allen continues:—
“I venture to think that the first way, if we look it clearly in the face, will be seen to be practically unthinkable; and that we have no alternative, therefore, but to accept the second.”
I like our looking a “way” which is “practically unthinkable” “clearly in the face.” I particularly like “practically unthinkable.” I suppose we can think it in theory, but not in practice. I like almost everything Mr. Allen says or does; it is not necessary to go far in search of his good things; dredge up any bit of mud from him at random and we are pretty sure to find an oyster with a pearl in it, if we look it clearly in the face; I mean, there is sure to be something which will be at any rate “almost” practically unthinkable. But however this may be, when Mr. Allen wrote his article in “Mind” two years ago, he was in substantial agreement with myself about the value of natural selection as a means of modification—by natural selection I mean, of course, the commonly known Charles-Darwinian natural selection from fortuitous variations; now, however, in 1885, he is all for this same natural selection again, and in the preface to his “Charles Darwin” writes (after a handsome acknowledgment of “Evolution Old and New”) that he “differs from” me “fundamentally in” my “estimate of the worth of Charles Darwin’s distinctive discovery of natural selection.”
This he certainly does, for on page 81 of the work itself he speaks of “the distinctive notion of natural selection” as having, “like all true and fruitful ideas, more than once flashed,” &c. I have explained usque ad nauseam, and will henceforth explain no longer, that natural selection is no “distinctive notion” of Mr. Darwin’s. Mr. Darwin’s “distinctive notion” is natural selection from among fortuitous variations.
Writing again (p. 89) of Mr. Spencer’s essay in the “Leader,” [218a] Mr. Allen says:—
“It contains, in a very philosophical and abstract form, the theory of ‘descent with modification’ without the distinctive Darwinian adjunct of ‘natural selection’ or survival of the fittest. Yet it was just that lever dexterously applied, and carefully weighted with the whole weight of his endlessly accumulated inductive instances, that finally enabled our modern Archimedes to move the world.”
Again:—
“To account for adaptation, for the almost perfect fitness of every plant and every animal to its position in life, for the existence (in other words) of definitely correlated parts and organs, we must call in the aid of survival of the fittest. Without that potent selective agent, our conception of the becoming of life is a mere chaos; order and organisation are utterly inexplicable save by the brilliant illuminating ray of the Darwinian principle” (p. 93).
And yet two years previously this same principle, after having been thinkable for many years, had become “unthinkable.”
Two years previously, writing of the Charles-Darwinian scheme of evolution, Mr. Allen had implied it as his opinion “that all brains are what they are in virtue of antecedent function.” “The one creed,” he wrote—referring to Mr Darwin’s—“makes the man depend mainly upon the accidents of molecular physics in a colliding germ cell and sperm cell; the other makes him depend mainly on the doings and gains of his ancestors as modified and altered by himself.”
This second creed is pure Erasmus-Darwinism and Lamarck.
Again:—
“It seems to me easy to understand how survival of the fittest may result in progress starting from such functionally produced gains (italics mine), but impossible to understand how it could result in progress, if it had to start in mere accidental structural increments due to spontaneous variation alone.” [219a]
Which comes to saying that it is easy to understand the Lamarckian system of evolution, but not the Charles-Darwinian. Mr. Allen concluded his article a few pages later on by saying:—
“The first hypothesis” (Mr. Darwin’s) “is one that throws no light upon any of the facts. The second hypothesis” (which is unalloyed Erasmus Darwin and Lamarck) “is one that explains them all with transparent lucidity.” Yet in his “Charles Darwin” Mr. Allen tells us that though Mr. Darwin “did not invent the development theory, he made it believable and comprehensible” (p. 4).
In his “Charles Darwin” Mr. Allen does not tell us how recently he had, in another place, expressed an opinion about the value of Mr. Darwin’s “distinctive contribution” to the theory of evolution, so widely different from the one he is now expressing with characteristic appearance of ardour. He does not explain how he is able to execute such rapid changes of front without forfeiting his claim on our attention; explanations on matters of this sort seem out of date with modern scientists. I can only suppose that Mr. Allen regards himself as having taken a brief, as it were, for the production of a popular work, and feels more bound to consider the interests of the gentleman who pays him than to say what he really thinks; for surely Mr. Allen would not have written as he did in such a distinctly philosophical and scientific journal as “Mind” without weighing his words, and nothing has transpired lately, apropos of evolution, which will account for his present recantation. I said in my book “Selections,” &c., that when Mr. Allen made stepping-stones of his dead selves, he jumped upon them to some tune. I was a little scandalised then at the completeness and suddenness of the movement he executed, and spoke severely; I have sometimes feared I may have spoken too severely, but his recent performance goes far to warrant my remarks.
If, however, there is no dead self about it, and Mr. Allen has only taken a brief, I confess to being not greatly edified. I grant that a good case can be made out for an author’s doing as I suppose Mr. Allen to have done; indeed I am not sure that both science and religion would not gain if every one rode his neighbour’s theory, as at a donkey-race, and the least plausible were held to win; but surely, as things stand, a writer by the mere fact of publishing a book professes to be giving a bonâ fide opinion. The analogy of the bar does not hold, for not only is it perfectly understood that a barrister does not necessarily state his own opinions, but there exists a strict though unwritten code to protect the public against the abuses to which such a system must be liable. In religion and science no such code exists—the supposition being that these two holy callings are above the necessity for anything of the kind. Science and religion are not as business is; still, if the public do not wish to be taken in, they must be at some pains to find out whether they are in the hands of one who, while pretending to be a judge, is in reality a paid advocate, with no one’s interests at heart except his client’s, or in those of one who, however warmly he may plead, will say nothing but what springs from mature and genuine conviction.
The present unsettled and unsatisfactory state of the moral code in this respect is at the bottom of the supposed antagonism between religion and science. These two are not, or never ought to be, antagonistic. They should never want what is spoken of as reconciliation, for in reality they are one. Religion is the quintessence of science, and science the raw material of religion; when people talk about reconciling religion and science they do not mean what they say; they mean reconciling the statements made by one set of professional men with those made by another set whose interests lie in the opposite direction—and with no recognised president of the court to keep them within due bounds this is not always easy.
Mr. Allen says:—
“At the same time it must be steadily remembered that there are many naturalists at the present day, especially among those of the lower order of intelligence, who, while accepting evolutionism in a general way, and therefore always describing themselves as Darwinians, do not believe, and often cannot even understand, the distinctive Darwinian addition to the evolutionary doctrine—namely, the principle of natural selection. Such hazy and indistinct thinkers as these are still really at the prior stage of Lamarckian evolution” (p. 199).
Considering that Mr. Allen was at that stage himself so recently, he might deal more tenderly with others who still find “the distinctive Darwinian adjunct” “unthinkable.” It is perhaps, however, because he remembers his difficulties that Mr. Allen goes on as follows:—
“It is probable that in the future, while a formal acceptance of Darwinism becomes general, the special theory of natural selection will be thoroughly understood and assimilated only by the more abstract and philosophical minds.”
By the kind of people, in fact, who read the Spectator and are called thoughtful; and in point of fact less than a twelvemonth after this passage was written, natural selection was publicly abjured as “a theory of the origin of species” by Mr. Romanes himself, with the implied approval of the Times.
“Thus,” continues Mr. Allen, “the name of Darwin will often no doubt be tacked on to what are in reality the principles of Lamarck.”
It requires no great power of prophecy to foretell this, considering that it is done daily by nine out of ten who call themselves Darwinians. Ask ten people of ordinary intelligence how Mr. Darwin explains the fact that giraffes have long necks, and nine of them will answer “through continually stretching them to reach higher and higher boughs.” They do not understand that this is the Lamarckian view of evolution, not the Darwinian; nor will Mr. Allen’s book greatly help the ordinary reader to catch the difference between the two theories, in spite of his frequent reference to Mr. Darwin’s “distinctive feature,” and to his “master-key.” No doubt the British public will get to understand all about it some day, but it can hardly be expected to do so all at once, considering the way in which Mr. Allen and so many more throw dust in its eyes, and will doubtless continue to throw it as long as an honest penny is to be turned by doing so. Mr. Allen, then, is probably right in saying that “the name of Darwin will no doubt be often tacked on to what are in reality the principles of Lamarck,” nor can it be denied that Mr. Darwin, by his practice of using “the theory of natural selection” as though it were a synonym for “the theory of descent with modification,” contributed to this result.
I do not myself doubt that he intended to do this, but Mr. Allen would say no less confidently he did not. He writes of Mr. Darwin as follows:—
“Of Darwin’s pure and exalted moral nature no Englishman of the present generation can trust himself to speak with becoming moderation.”
He proceeds to trust himself thus:—
“His love of truth, his singleness of heart, his sincerity, his earnestness, his modesty, his candour, his absolute sinking of self and selfishness—these, indeed are all conspicuous to every reader on the very face of every word he ever printed.”
This “conspicuous sinking of self” is of a piece with the “delightful unostentatiousness which every one must have noticed” about which Mr. Allen writes on page 65. Does he mean that Mr. Darwin was “ostentatiously unostentatious,” or that he was “unostentatiously ostentatious”? I think we may guess from this passage who it was that in the old days of the Pall Mall Gazelle called Mr. Darwin “a master of a certain happy simplicity.”
Mr. Allen continues:—
“Like his works themselves, they must long outlive him. But his sympathetic kindliness, his ready generosity, the staunchness of his friendship, the width and depth and breadth of his affections, the manner in which ‘he bore with those who blamed him unjustly without blaming them again’—these things can never be so well known to any other generation of men as to the three generations that walked the world with him” (pp. 174, 175).
Again:—
“He began early in life to collect and arrange a vast encyclopædia of facts, all finally focussed with supreme skill upon the great principle he so clearly perceived and so lucidly expounded. He brought to bear upon the question an amount of personal observation, of minute experiment, of world-wide book knowledge, of universal scientific ability, such as never, perhaps, was lavished by any other man upon any other department of study. His conspicuous and beautiful love of truth, his unflinching candour, his transparent fearlessness and honesty of purpose, his childlike simplicity, his modesty of demeanour, his charming manner, his affectionate disposition, his kindliness to friends, his courtesy to opponents, his gentleness to harsh and often bitter assailants, kindled in the minds of men of science everywhere throughout the world a contagious enthusiasm only equalled perhaps among the disciples of Socrates and the great teachers of the revival of learning. His name became a rallying-point for the children of light in every country” (pp. 196, 197).
I need not quote more; the sentence goes on to talk about “firmly grounding” something which philosophers and speculators might have taken a century or two more “to establish in embryo;” but those who wish to see it must turn to Mr. Allen’s book.
If I have formed too severe an estimate of Mr. Darwin’s work and character—and this is more than likely—the fulsomeness of the adulation lavished on him by his admirers for many years past must be in some measure my excuse. We grow tired even of hearing Aristides called just, but what is so freely said about Mr. Darwin puts us in mind more of what the people said about Herod—that he spoke with the voice of a God, not of a man. So we saw Professor Ray Lankester hail him not many years ago as the “greatest of living men.” [224a]
It is ill for any man’s fame that he should be praised so extravagantly. Nobody ever was as good as Mr. Darwin looked, and a counterblast to such a hurricane of praise as has been lately blowing will do no harm to his ultimate reputation, even though it too blow somewhat fiercely. Art, character, literature, religion, science (I have named them in alphabetical order), thrive best in a breezy, bracing air; I heartily hope I may never be what is commonly called successful in my own lifetime—and if I go on as I am doing now, I have a fair chance of succeeding in not succeeding.
Being anxious to give the reader a sample of the arguments against the theory of natural selection from among variations that are mainly either directly or indirectly functional in their inception, or more briefly against the Erasmus-Darwinian and Lamarckian systems, I can find nothing more to the point, or more recent, than Professor Ray Lankester’s letter to the Athenæum of March 29, 1884, to the latter part of which, however, I need alone call attention. Professor Ray Lankester says:—
“And then we are introduced to the discredited speculations of Lamarck, which have found a worthy advocate in Mr. Butler, as really solid contributions to the discovery of the veræ causæ of variation! A much more important attempt to do something for Lamarck’s hypothesis, of the transmission to offspring of structural peculiarities acquired by the parents, was recently made by an able and experienced naturalist, Professor Semper of Wurzburg. His book on ‘Animal Life,’ &c., is published in the ‘International Scientific Series.’ Professor Semper adduces an immense number and variety of cases of structural change in animals and plants brought about in the individual by adaptation (during its individual life-history) to new conditions. Some of these are very marked changes, such as the loss of its horny coat in the gizzard of a pigeon fed on meat; but in no single instance could Professor Semper show—although it was his object and desire to do so if possible—that such change was transmitted from parent to offspring. Lamarckism looks all very well on paper, but, as Professor Semper’s book shows, when put to the test of observation and experiment it collapses absolutely.”
I should have thought it would have been enough if it had collapsed without the “absolutely,” but Professor Ray Lankester does not like doing things by halves. Few will be taken in by the foregoing quotation, except those who do not greatly care whether they are taken in or not; but to save trouble to readers who may have neither Lamarck nor Professor Semper at hand, I will put the case as follows:—
Professor Semper writes a book to show, we will say, that the hour-hand of the clock moves gradually forward, in spite of its appearing stationary. He makes his case sufficiently clear, and then might have been content to leave it; nevertheless, in the innocence of his heart, he adds the admission that though he had often looked at the clock for a long time together, he had never been able actually to see the hour-hand moving. “There now,” exclaims Professor Ray Lankester on this, “I told you so; the theory collapses absolutely; his whole object and desire is to show that the hour-hand moves, and yet when it comes to the point, he is obliged to confess that he cannot see it do so.” It is not worth while to meet what Professor Ray Lankester has been above quoted as saying about Lamarckism beyond quoting the following passage from a review of “The Neanderthal Skull on Evolution” in the “Monthly Journal of Science” for June, 1885 (p. 362):—
“On the very next page the author reproduces the threadbare objection that the ‘supporters of the theory have never yet succeeded in observing a single instance in all the millions of years invented (!) in its support of one species of animal turning into another.’ Now, ex hypothesi, one species turns into another not rapidly, as in a transformation scene, but in successive generations, each being born a shade different from its progenitors. Hence to observe such a change is excluded by the very terms of the question. Does Mr. Saville forget Mr. Herbert Spencer’s apologue of the ephemeron which had never witnessed the change of a child into a man?”
The apologue, I may say in passing, is not Mr. Spencer’s; it is by the author of the “Vestiges,” and will be found on page 161 of the 1853 edition of that book; but let this pass. How impatient Professor Ray Lankester is of any attempt to call attention to the older view of evolution appears perhaps even more plainly in a review of this same book of Professor Semper’s that appeared in “Nature,” March 3, 1881. The tenor of the remarks last quoted shows that though what I am about to quote is now more than five years old, it may be taken as still giving us the position which Professor Ray Lankester takes on these matters. He wrote:—
“It is necessary,” he exclaims, “to plainly and emphatically state” (Why so much emphasis? Why not “it should be stated”?) “that Professor Semper and a few other writers of similar views” [227a] (I have sent for the number of “Modern Thought” referred to by Professor Ray Lankester but find no article by Mr. Henslow, and do not, therefore, know what he had said) “are not adding to or building on Mr. Darwin’s theory, but are actually opposing all that is essential and distinctive in that theory, by the revival of the exploded notion of ‘directly transforming agents’ advocated by Lamarck and others.”
It may be presumed that these writers know they are not “adding to or building on” Mr. Darwin’s theory, and do not wish to build on it, as not thinking it a sound foundation. Professor Ray Lankester says they are “actually opposing,” as though there were something intolerably audacious in this; but it is not easy to see why he should be more angry with them for “actually opposing” Mr. Darwin than they may be with him, if they think it worth while, for “actually defending” the exploded notion of natural selection—for assuredly the Charles-Darwinian system is now more exploded than Lamarck’s is.
What Professor Ray Lankester says about Lamarck and “directly transforming agents” will mislead those who take his statement without examination. Lamarck does not say that modification is effected by means of “directly transforming agents;” nothing can be more alien to the spirit of his teaching. With him the action of the external conditions of existence (and these are the only transforming agents intended by Professor Ray Lankester) is not direct, but indirect. Change in surroundings changes the organism’s outlook, and thus changes its desires; desires changing, there is corresponding change in the actions performed; actions changing, a corresponding change is by-and-by induced in the organs that perform them; this, if long continued, will be transmitted; becoming augmented by accumulation in many successive generations, and further modifications perhaps arising through further changes in surroundings, the change will amount ultimately to specific and generic difference. Lamarck knows no drug, nor operation, that will medicine one organism into another, and expects the results of adaptive effort to be so gradual as to be only perceptible when accumulated in the course of many generations. When, therefore, Professor Ray Lankester speaks of Lamarck as having “advocated directly transforming agents,” he either does not know what he is talking about, or he is trifling with his readers. Professor Ray Lankester continues:—
“They do not seem to be aware of this, for they make no attempt to examine Mr. Darwin’s accumulated facts and arguments.” Professor Ray Lankester need not shake Mr. Darwin’s “accumulated facts and arguments” at us. We have taken more pains to understand them than Professor Ray Lankester has taken to understand Lamarck, and by this time know them sufficiently. We thankfully accept by far the greater number, and rely on them as our sheet-anchors to save us from drifting on to the quicksands of Neo-Darwinian natural selection; few of them, indeed, are Mr. Darwin’s, except in so far as he has endorsed them and given them publicity, but I do not know that this detracts from their value. We have paid great attention to Mr. Darwin’s facts, and if we do not understand all his arguments—for it is not always given to mortal man to understand these—yet we think we know what he was driving at. We believe we understand this to the full as well as Mr. Darwin intended us to do, and perhaps better. Where the arguments tend to show that all animals and plants are descended from a common source we find them much the same as Buffon’s, or as those of Erasmus Darwin or Lamarck, and have nothing to say against them; where, on the other hand, they aim at proving that the main means of modification has been the fact that if an animal has been “favoured” it will be “preserved”—then we think that the animal’s own exertions will, in the long run, have had more to do with its preservation than any real or fancied “favour.” Professor Ray Lankester continues:—
“The doctrine of evolution has become an accepted truth” (Professor Ray Lankester writes as though the making of truth and falsehood lay in the hollow of Mr. Darwin’s hand. Surely “has become accepted” should be enough; Mr. Darwin did not make the doctrine true) “entirely in consequence of Mr. Darwin’s having demonstrated the mechanism.” (There is no mechanism in the matter, and if there is, Mr. Darwin did not show it. He made some words which confused us and prevented us from seeing that “the preservation of favoured races” was a cloak for “luck,” and that this was all the explanation he was giving) “by which the evolution is possible; it was almost universally rejected, while such undemonstrable agencies as those arbitrarily asserted to exist by Professor Semper and Mr. George Henslow were the only means suggested by its advocates.”
Undoubtedly the theory of descent with modification, which received its first sufficiently ample and undisguised exposition in 1809 with the “Philosophie Zoologique” of Lamarck, shared the common fate of all theories that revolutionise opinion on important matters, and was fiercely opposed by the Huxleys, Romaneses, Grant Allens, and Ray Lankesters of its time. It had to face the reaction in favour of the Church which began in the days of the First Empire, as a natural consequence of the horrors of the Revolution; it had to face the social influence and then almost Darwinian reputation of Cuvier, whom Lamarck could not, or would not, square; it was put forward by one who was old, poor, and ere long blind. What theory could do more than just keep itself alive under conditions so unfavourable? Even under the most favourable conditions descent with modification would have been a hard plant to rear, but, as things were, the wonder is that it was not killed outright at once. We all know how large a share social influences have in deciding what kind of reception a book or theory is to meet with; true, these influences are not permanent, but at first they are almost irresistible; in reality it was not the theory of descent that was matched against that of fixity, but Lamarck against Cuvier; who can be surprised that Cuvier for a time should have had the best of it?
And yet it is pleasant to reflect that his triumph was not, as triumphs go, long lived. How is Cuvier best known now? As one who missed a great opportunity; as one who was great in small things, and stubbornly small in great ones. Lamarck died in 1831; in 1861 descent with modification was almost universally accepted by those most competent to form an opinion. This result was by no means so exclusively due to Mr. Darwin’s “Origin of Species” as is commonly believed. During the thirty years that followed 1831 Lamarck’s opinions made more way than Darwinians are willing to allow. Granted that in 1861 the theory was generally accepted under the name of Darwin, not under that of Lamarck, still it was Lamarck and not Darwin that was being accepted; it was descent, not descent with modification by means of natural selection from among fortuitous variations, that we carried away with us from the “Origin of Species.” The thing triumphed whether the name was lost or not. I need not waste the reader’s time by showing further how little weight he need attach to the fact that Lamarckism was not immediately received with open arms by an admiring public. The theory of descent has become accepted as rapidly, if I am not mistaken, as the Copernican theory, or as Newton’s theory of gravitation.
When Professor Ray Lankester goes on to speak of the “undemonstrable agencies” “arbitrarily asserted” to exist by Professor Semper, he is again presuming on the ignorance of his readers. Professor Semper’s agencies are in no way more undemonstrable than Mr. Darwin’s are. Mr. Darwin was perfectly cogent as long as he stuck to Lamarck’s demonstration; his arguments were sound as long as they were Lamarck’s, or developments of, and riders upon, Buffon, Erasmus Darwin, and Lamarck, and almost incredibly silly when they were his own. Fortunately the greater part of the “Origin of Species” is devoted to proving the theory of descent with modification, by arguments against which no exception would have been taken by Mr. Darwin’s three great precursors, except in so far as the variations whose accumulation results in specific difference are supposed to be fortuitous—and, to do Mr. Darwin justice, the fortuitousness, though always within hail, is kept as far as possible in the background.