But Mr. Wallace needs no compliments from me, and it is not for the purpose of paying them that I have taken pen in hand. My purpose is rather to commit to paper certain thoughts which have occurred to me during the reading of his most interesting volume, and which it may perhaps be worth while to record. It seems to me that the publication of Mr. Wallace's work affords an occasion for taking stock, as it were, of that which the author describes as "Darwinism." It is needless to say that in the author's use of the word there is nothing vague, much less disparaging, in this term. The term is used in a certain definite sense, and is intended to express, not evolution in general, but evolution by those special processes to which Mr. Darwin believed evolution to be due. It is, I think, manifest that much advantage may accrue even from a declaration at the hands of such an authority as Mr. Wallace of what "Darwinism" is; but, besides this, it is specially advantageous, now that a quarter of a century has passed since the great revolution in thought on this class of subjects commenced, that we should know what is the real position of the controversy; there has been sufficient time for the smoke and din of the battle to pass away, and we can now form a better estimate than was possible in earlier days of the actual result of the engagement. I propose, therefore, to offer some remarks upon Mr. Wallace's volume, chiefly from the point of view just indicated; observing in general that the conclusion which seems to me to be of chief importance is this-that while Mr. Wallace holds to Darwin's views in the most important particulars, he does not regard "Darwinism" as any explanation of some of the most important phenomena which the living world presents.

This observation, however, must stand on one side for the present. The point which must occupy us just now is the actual meaning of "Darwinism," upon which possibly not a few persons have somewhat hazy notions. Let me quote Mr. Wallace: *

In order to show the view Darwin took of his own work, and what it was that he alone claimed to have done, the concluding passage of the introduction to the Origin of Species should be carefully considered. It is as follows: "Although much remains obscure, and will long remain obscure, I can entertain no doubt, after the most deliberate and dispassionate judgment of which I am capable, that the view which most naturalists until recently entertained, and which I formerly entertained—namely, that each species has been independently created-is erroneous. I am fully convinced that species are not immutable; but that those belonging to what are called the same genera are the lineal descendants of some other and generally extinct species, in the same manner as the acknowledged varieties of any one species are the descendants of that species. Furthermore, I am convinced that natural selection has been the most important, but not the exclusive, means of modification." It should be especially noted, adds Mr. Wal

* Page 9.

lace, that all which is here claimed is now almost universally admitted, while the criticisms of Darwin's works refer almost exclusively to those numerous questions which, as he himself says, will long remain obscure.

Mr. Wallace then proceeds to explain precisely what is meant by natural selection, and what, therefore, the Darwinian theory really is:

The theory of natural selection rests on two main classes of facts, which apply to all organized beings without exception, and which thus take rank as fundamental principles or laws. The first is the power of rapid multiplication in a geometrical progression; the second, that the offspring always vary slightly from the parents, though generally very closely resembling them. From the first fact or law there follows, necessarily, a constant struggle for existence; because, while the offspring always exceed the parents in number, generally to an enormous extent, yet the total number of living organisms in the world does not, and can not, increase year by year. Consequently, every year, on the average, as many die as are born, plants as well as animals; and the majority die premature deaths. They kill each other in a thousand different ways; they starve each other by some consuming the food that others want; they are destroyed largely by the powers of nature-by cold and heat, by rain and storm, by flood and fire. There is thus a perpetual struggle among them which shall live and which shall die; and this struggle is tremendously severe, because so few can possibly remain alive-one in five, one in ten, often only one in a hundred or one in a thousand.

Then comes the question, Why do some live rather than others? If all the individuals of each species were exactly alike in every respect, we could only say it is a matter of chance. But they are not alike. We find that they vary in many different ways. Some are stronger, some swifter, some hardier in constitution, some more cunning. An obscure color may render concealment more easy for some, keener sight may enable others to discover prey or escape from an enemy better than their fellows. Among plants the smallest differences may be useful or the reverse. The earliest and strongest shoots may escape the slug; their greater vigor may enable them to flower and seed earlier in a wet autumn; plants best armed with spines or hairs may escape being devoured; those whose flowers are most conspicuous may be soonest fertilized by insects. We can not doubt that, on the whole, any beneficial variation will give the possessors of it a greater probability of living through the tremendous ordeal they have to undergo. There may be something left to chance, but on the whole the fittest will survive.*

Upon this statement of what "Darwinism" is, coming to us as it does from the highest authority, certain observations suggest themselves.

In the first place, objection may be taken to the phrase, the fittest will survive. The phrase, if I am not mistaken, was not originally devised by Mr. Darwin, and seems open to criticism. For fitness implies something of moral superiority; you can not measure it in respect of length, or breadth, or strength, or any other quality capable of being tested by strictly physical conditions. Moreover, there is some danger of being betrayed by the

* Pages 10, 11.

phrase into the error of arguing in a circle; for, in the case of not a few creatures which have survived, it is difficult to give any good reason for their survival except upon the assumption of their fitness as proved by the very fact of their survival. Thus their fitness leads to their survival, and this survival leads to the conclusion that they must have been the fittest. Which is arguing in a circle. Still further, it is not difficult to suggest examples in which the expression, survival of the fittest, manifestly breaks down. Sir Isaac Newton was, as is well known, a very delicate child, difficult to rear. Suppose that Newton and a powerful navvy, or coal porter, or grenadier, had been compelled to rough it as children at Dotheboys Hall or some similar establishment, which would have survived? Not Newton; and yet it may be fairly argued that in many respects he would have been the fittest. Nor is this imaginary case an altogether unfair test of the propriety of the phrase; for it is impossible to give any true definition of fitness which shall exclude all moral and intellectual qualities, all qualities in fact which are of the highest value, and which shall simply include those elements of toughness and wiriness, and strength of sinew or stomach, which are chiefly calculated to prolong life in trying circumstances.

Putting out of consideration, however, the propriety of the language by which survival in the struggle for life, whether among vegetables or animals, is expressed, it is to be admitted that the principle indicated is a true one. That is to say, it may be regarded as admitted by all persons whose studies and natural powers render their opinion of any real value, that modification by natural selection is an element in that evolution of living forms of which the evidence appears to be irresistible. Natural selection is a vera causa; the question is, What is the extent of its action? how much can it do?

Darwin considered it necessary to supplement natural by that which he termed sexual selection; in doing which he was quite consistent, because he speaks (as we have already seen) of natural selection as "the most important, but not the exclusive, means of modification" of species. This supplemental hypothesis, however, does not commend itself to Mr. Wallace's judgment.

Mr. Darwin (he writes), as is well known, imputed most of the colors and varied paterns of butterflies' wings to sexual selection-that is, to a constant preference, by female butterflies, for the more brilliant males; the colors thus produced being sometimes transmitted to the males alone, sometimes to both sexes. This view has always seemed to me unsupported by evidence, while it is also quite inadequate to account for the facts.

Again, after explaining his own views on the subject of ornamental appendages of birds and other animals, he writes:

The various facts and arguments now briefly set forth afford an explanation

of the phenomena of male ornament as being due to the general laws of growth and development, and make it unnecessary to call to our aid so hypothetical a cause as the cumulative action of female preference.

Whether the views put forward by Mr. Wallace do in reality render unnecessary the Darwinian hypothesis of sexual selection will not be here discussed; it is sufficient to note that the conclusions of Mr. Darwin in this not unimportant matter have, after abundant time for examination and reflection, been rejected by the naturalist who more perhaps than any other has a right to criticise him.

But Mr. Wallace rejects also the evolutionist views of another very competent naturalist, Prof. Romanes; and it will aid in the development of the purpose of this paper if I refer in passing to this rejection. The theory of Prof. Romanes is described by him under the phrase physiological selection; it is not necessary in this place to explain what the theory is; it is sufficient to say it is regarded as highly important by Prof. Romanes, and as utterly unfounded by Mr. Wallace. It would be impertinent on my part to offer any opinion as between these two authorities; but the conclusion may be fairly drawn that there is probably much at present unknown in the subject of evolution, as well as not a little doubt with regard to some fields of inquiry into which our knowledge is supposed to extend.

But the most striking and interesting feature of Mr. Wallace's book, from what I may describe as the human point of view, is to be found in that part of his work in which he denies, and (as he believes) proves himself to be justified in denying, the application of the principle of natural selection to the evolution of the human faculties. This denial is a fact of the first order of magnitude; and I confess that I can see no ground for the language of strong depreciation in which Prof. Romanes, in the article already referred to, describes this portion of Mr. Wallace's book. He speaks of the substance of the concluding chapters as being "sadly like the feet of clay in a figure of iron, marring by its manifest weakness what would otherwise have been a completed and selfconsistent monument of strength." No argument in the article justifies this condemnation; and it is, perhaps, not too much to say that many of his readers will find in the condemned portion of Mr. Wallace's book that which has the deepest interest for themselves, while it must not be forgotten that the views put forward are alleged by Mr. Wallace to rest upon proofs which he formally submits for examination. Let us see, then, what this clay formation contains.

Mr. Wallace fully accepts " Mr. Darwin's conclusion as to the essential identity of man's bodily structure with that of the higher mammalia, and his descent from some ancestral form common to

men and to the anthropoid apes." But he observes that "although perhaps nowhere distinctly formulated, his (Mr. Darwin's) whole argument tends to the conclusion that man's entire nature and all his faculties, whether moral, intellectual, or spiritual, have been derived from their rudiments in the lower animals, in the same manner and by the action of the same general laws as his physical structure has been derived." This conclusion Mr. Wallace considers to be "not supported by adequate evidence, and to be directly opposed to many well-ascertained facts."

I will not endeavor to reproduce the whole of Mr. Wallace's argument on this subject, but will present what appears to me to be the pith of it; and I do this with the greater satisfaction, because what is here advanced seems to harmonize with what I have already written in criticising the phrase survival of the fittest.

Let us confine ourselves, for simplicity's sake, to one human faculty, namely, the mathematical. The problem is, how to produce a mathematician by the process of natural selection. The reader must bear in mind clearly what the theory of natural selection is, as already expounded. It is the survival in the struggle for life of those individuals which possess variations from their fellows favorable to their preservation. In order, therefore, that the mathematical faculty should be evolved by the process of natural selection, it is necessary to suppose that those individuals, which have an advantage in the possession of rudimentary mathematical faculties somewhat in excess of their fellows, should be the survivors in the struggle for life. The mere possession of this rudimentary advantage must be an aid toward life preservation. This in itself is hard to understand; but it becomes harder still when we bear in mind the rareness of the mathematical gift. In our own time it would be perhaps an overestimate to say that the mathematical faculty existed in any marked degree in one per cent of the population; assume such a proportion to have generally held in human history, then it would be necessary to suppose that these rare specimens of rudimentary mathematical ability had some very decided advantage in the struggle for life: but what ground is there for such a supposition? Grant that ten men in a tribe of a thousand had discovered how to count upon their fingers, or suppose them to have discovered some elementary geometrical theorem, how would this help them when a neighboring tribe attacked them, or when famine and pestilence were abundant? It is difficult or impossible to say.

And the same argument would seem to apply to other human faculties, music and all forms of art, writing, even speech. Consider speech for a moment as the most universal and most dis