I imagine from some expressions (but if you ask me what, I could not answer) that you look at variability as some necessary contingency with organisms, and further that there is some necessary tendency in the variability to go on diverging in character or degree. If you do, I do not agree. "Reversion" again (a form of inheritance), I look at as in no way directly connected with Variation, though of course inheritance is of fundamental importance to us, for if a variation be not inherited, it is of no signification to us. It was on such points as these I fancied that we perhaps started differently.
I fear that my book will not deserve at all the pleasant things you say about it, and Good Lord, how I do long to have done with it!
Since the above was written, I have received and have been much interested by A. Gray. I am delighted at his note about my and Wallace's paper. He will go round, for it is futile to give up very many species, and stop at an arbitrary line at others. It is what my father called Unitarianism, "a featherbed to catch a falling Christian."...
C. D. to J. Murray. Down, June 14th [1859].
My dear Sir,—The diagram will do very well, and I will send it shortly to Mr. West to have a few trifling corrections made.
I get on very slowly with proofs. I remember writing to you that I thought there would be not much correction. I honestly wrote what I thought, but was most grievously mistaken. I find the style incredibly bad, and most difficult to make clear and smooth. I am extremely sorry to say, on account of expense, and loss of time for me, that the corrections are very heavy, as heavy as possible. But from casual glances, I still hope that later chapters are not so badly written. How I could have written so badly is quite inconceivable, but I suppose it was owing to my whole attention being fixed on the general line of argument, and not on details. All I can say is, that I am very sorry.
Yours very sincerely.
C. D. to J. D. Hooker. Down [Sept.] 11th [1859].
My dear Hooker,—I corrected the last proof yesterday, and I have now my revises, index, &c., which will take me near to the end of the month. So that the neck of my work, thank God, is broken.
I write now to say that I am uneasy in my conscience about hesitating to look over your proofs,[161] but I was feeling miserably unwell and shattered when I wrote. I do not suppose I could be of hardly any use, but if I could, pray send me any proofs. I should be (and fear I was) the most ungrateful man to hesitate to do anything for you after some fifteen or more years' help from you.