As to the French lady’s translation and commentary on the “Origin,” I am not so much surprised. As I view it, there are only two sides to the main question. Very likely she takes one side in a thorough-going and consistent manner; and either she is right, or I am right, i. e., there is design in nature, or there is not. The no-design view, if one can bring himself to entertain it, may well enough lead to all she says, and we may very much admire how collision and destruction of least-favored brings about apparently orderly results,—apparent contrivances or adaptation of means to ends. On the other hand, the implication of a designing mind must bring with it a strong implication of design in matters where we could not directly prove it.
If you grant an intelligent designer anywhere in Nature, you may be confident that he has had something to do with the “contrivances” in your orchids.
I have just received and glanced at Bentham’s address, and am amused to see how your beautiful flank movement with the Orchid book has nearly overcome his opposition to the “Origin.”
The military simile above leads me to speak of your wonder that I can think of science at all in the midst of war. Well, first, we get used to it. Second, we need something to turn to, and happy are they who, forbidden to engage personally in the war (as I am ever itching to do), have something to turn to. Third, I do not do much, do nothing, in fact, except my college duties now for months, and that is the reason I have time to write to you, and be interested in all your doings.
If you suppose everything is paralyzed and desolate here, and the country greatly put back, read a very sensible letter of an Englishman in the “Spectator” of June 7. It is very just and true. We shall recuperate fast enough, and be better off than ever, as much prosperity as is good for us, and more solid, more independent, more self-contained, which is our great desideratum. Free trade be blowed; we must needs have high duties on imports, and it is better that we should. By these and by direct taxes—the tax-bill just passed—we shall have to pay over largely. Very well.
Just at present our prospects (viz., evening of July 3) are looking badly enough. McClellan has clearly been overmatched and driven to the wall, after very obstinate fighting, with very heavy loss on both sides. Whether it is retrievable with reinforcements, or whether the whole campaign has to be begun again against Richmond, is not yet clear. Anyway we have got to put shoulder to the wheel anew, and it may be done, we suppose, more easily and far more promptly than last year. All we ask is that Europe shall let us alone.
Enough for to-day.
Providence, R. I., July 29, 1862.
No more news in the orchids line. I am making two or three days of holiday, and yesterday I found a few specimens of Gymnadenia tridentata. But the flowers are too small to examine well with a hand lens. If they keep, I will take them back to Cambridge in a day or two and see what to make of them....
As to the country, you will see by this time that we have not the least idea of abandoning the struggle. We have learned only that there is no use trying any longer to pick up our eggs gently, very careful not to break any. The South forces us at length to do what it would have been more humane to have done from the first, i. e., to act with vigor, not to say rigor.