Life of Charles Darwin

by G. T. Bettany

IF no other record of Darwin’s twenty-two years (1837-59) of life and thought after his return to England remained than the papers and books he published during that period, we should find enough to place him on a level with the most gifted biologists and geologists of his age. But all that time he was occupied with thoughts, researches, and experiments, of which the world at large perceived no fruits. Few persons suspected that a tremendous revolution in scientific thought was in preparation at the quiet country home at Down. New species of animals and plants were being described by naturalists at an alarming rate. The bulk of knowledge of specific characters and the necessity of specialisation bade fair to make every species-monger a dry and narrow pedant; and the pedants quarrelled about the characters and limits of their species.

In the later years of this period some rays of improvement shone out. To end the reign of Owen’s misleading types and imaginary archetypes, there arose a wielder of two potent words, “morphology” and “biology,” the sciences of form and of life, who showed that differences of adult form grew out of likeness and simplicity in the young; and that the life of plants and animals was one science, their study one discipline. What Huxley had begun to proclaim from the housetop, Darwin was meditating in secret; and much more. Let us see how he states the case in the famous modest opening of the “Origin of Species” (1859): “When on board H.M.S. Beagle, as naturalist, I was much struck with certain facts in the distribution of the inhabitants of South America, and in the geological relations of the present to the past inhabitants of that continent. These facts seemed to me to throw some light on the origin of species—that mystery of mysteries, as it has been called by one of our greatest philosophers. On my return home, it occurred to me, in 1837, that something might perhaps be made out on this question by patiently accumulating and reflecting on all sorts of facts which could possibly have any bearing on it. After five years’ work I allowed myself to speculate on the subject, and drew up some short notes; these I enlarged in 1844 into a sketch of the conclusions, which then seemed to me probable: from that period to the present day I have steadily pursued the same object. I hope that I may be excused for entering on these personal details, as I give them to show that I have not been hasty in coming to a decision.” We learn also, independently, from the “Expression of the Emotions” (p. 19), that Darwin as early as 1838 was inclined to believe in the principle of evolution, or the derivation of species from other and lower forms.

It is somewhat difficult to decide precisely what Darwin owed to his predecessors who believed in the mutability of species and doubted their separate creation; this is partly owing to his exceeding modesty. He was over-ready to acknowledge the value to himself of other people’s ideas, and he under-estimated the strength of the illumination which his own mind threw upon those ideas, transforming them from guesses into probable hypotheses, confirming them by his vast and varied knowledge, and building a superstructure where they had laid but an uncertain foundation. The question was in the air; guessing replies of great interest were made by a few who doubted the received belief; but they were not satisfying answers and they did not effect a revolution. Goethe in Germany, Erasmus Darwin in England,[6] and Geoffroy Saint Hilaire in France, came independently to similar conclusions as to the mutability of species; and Lamarck followed with several well-known works in 1801-15, in which he upholds the doctrine that all species, including man, are descended from other species. As Darwin says, 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. He saw the difficulty of distinguishing between species and varieties, the almost perfect gradation of form in some groups, and the great similarity of domestic breeds of animals to such species. He believed that some degree of change was produced by the physical conditions of life, the intercrossing of species, and by habits causing increased use or disuse of parts. Indeed he thought very many remarkable adaptations, such as that of the neck of the giraffe for browsing on trees, were the effect of habit. But he attributed, perhaps, more to a law of progressive development impressed on all forms of life, which thus would all in time gradually cease to be lowly, their place being taken by new forms continually or “spontaneously” generated.

It does not appear that Lamarck would by any means have sufficed to convince Darwin, judging from his references to him in his Journal and the “Origin.” Here is the passage in which in the second edition of his Journal he refers to the blindness of the Brazilian Tucutuco, or Ctenomys, a rodent or gnawing mammal with the habits of a mole: “Considering the strictly subterranean habits of the Tucutuco, the blindness, though so common, cannot be a very serious evil; yet it appears strange that any animal should possess an organ frequently subject to be injured. Lamarck would have been delighted with this fact had he known it when speculating (probably with more truth than usual with him) on the gradually acquired blindness of the Aspalax, a gnawer living underground, and of the Proteus, a reptile living in dark caverns filled with water, in both of which animals the eye is in an almost rudimentary state, and is covered with a tendinous membrane and skin.... In the Tucutuco, which, I believe, never comes to the surface of the ground, the eye is rather larger (than in the mole), but often rendered blind and useless, though without apparently causing any inconvenience to the animal: no doubt Lamarck would have said that the Tucutuco is now passing into the state of the Aspalax and Proteus.” Many years afterwards in the “Origin of Species” Darwin referred to the “erroneous views and grounds of opinion of Lamarck.”

No doubt some impulse to Darwin’s views in this direction would be due to his intercourse with Dr. Grant at Edinburgh, whose celebrated paper on the fresh-water sponge concludes with a declaration of his belief that species are descended from other species, and that they become improved in the course of modification. But previous to the occurrences of his voyage, we can find no stronger influence tending to make Darwin an evolutionist, than Lyell’s “Principles of Geology,” which, by showing constant and gradual change as the law of the world’s history now as in past periods, gave emphasis and point to all observations of change and succession in the living world. Indeed, in June, 1836, before Darwin’s voyage was over, Lyell writes to Sir John Herschel: “In regard to the origination of new species, I am very glad to find that you think it probable that it may be carried on through the intervention of intermediate causes. I left this rather to be inferred, not thinking it worth while to offend a certain class of persons by embodying in words what would only be a speculation. But the German critics have attacked me vigorously, saying, that by the impugning of the doctrine of spontaneous generation, and substituting nothing in its place, I have left them nothing but the direct and miraculous intervention of the First Cause, as often as a new species is introduced, and hence I have overthrown my own doctrine of revolutions carried on by a regular system of secondary causes.... When I first came to the notion, which I never saw expressed elsewhere, though I have no doubt it had all been thought out before, of a succession of extinction of species, and creation of new ones going on perpetually now, and through an indefinite period of the past, and to continue for ages to come, all in accommodation to the changes which must continue in the inanimate and habitable earth, the idea struck me as the grandest which I had ever conceived, so far as regards the attributes of the Presiding Mind.”

In a succeeding paragraph, Lyell very remarkably foreshadows Darwin’s “natural selection” and “struggle for existence.” He speaks of a species being rendered more prolific in order to perpetuate its existence; “but this would perhaps make it press too hard upon other species at other times. Now if it be an insect it may be made in one of its transformations to resemble a dead stick, or a leaf, or a lichen, or a stone, so as to be somewhat less easily found by its enemies; or if this would make it too strong, an occasional variety of the species may have this advantage conferred on it; or if this would be still too much, one sex of a certain variety. Probably there is scarcely a dash of colour on the wing or body of which the choice would be quite arbitrary, or which might not affect its duration for thousands of years.” The significance of the last sentence is immense, and when we reflect that this bold but cautious thinker was in constant intercourse with Darwin, we can readily comprehend why the second edition of the Journal was so enthusiastically dedicated to Lyell. On page 481 of the “Origin of Species,” Darwin acknowledges that the belief that species were immutable productions was almost unavoidable, as long as the history of the world was thought to be of short duration: which affords another proof how profoundly Lyell’s views on the long duration of the past history of the globe, and its modification by the slow operation of existing causes, influenced Darwin, and led him to comprehend how species might be modified.

We see Darwin, then, possessed of the idea that species are mutable, informed as to past and recent changes in the animal, plant, and physical world, seeking for causes which should suffice to produce modification of species by a continuous law. The next step in his progress was attention to domestic animals and cultivated plants. As he wrote in 1864 to Haeckel, one of his most brilliant followers: “In South America three classes of facts were brought strongly before my mind. Firstly, the manner in which closely-allied species replace species in going southward. Secondly, the close affinity of the species inhabiting the islands near South America to those proper to the continent. This struck me profoundly, especially the difference of the species in the adjoining islets in the Galapagos Archipelago. Thirdly, the relation of the living Edentata and Rodentia to the extinct species. I shall never forget my astonishment when I dug out a gigantic piece of armour like that of the living armadillo.

“Having reflected much on the foregoing facts, it seemed to me probable that allied species were descended from a common ancestor. But during several years I could not conceive how each form could have been modified so as to become admirably adapted to its place in nature. I began, therefore, to study domesticated animals and cultivated plants,[7] and after a time perceived that man’s power of selecting and breeding from certain individuals was the most powerful of all means in the production of new races. Having attended to the habits of animals, and their relations to the surrounding conditions, I was able to realise the severe struggle for existence to which all organisms are subjected; and my geological observations had allowed me to appreciate, to a certain extent, the duration of past geological periods. With my mind thus prepared, I fortunately happened to read Malthus’s ‘Essay on Population;’ and the idea of natural selection through the struggle for existence at once occurred to me. Of all the subordinate points in the theory, the last which I understood was the cause of the tendency in the descendants from a common progenitor to diverge in character.”[8]

Malthus taught the inevitable tendency of all animal life to increase beyond the means of subsistence, and expounded the checks which begin to act when population increases too rapidly. But his book had lain unfruitful to naturalists since 1798, until Darwin read it, and with his special knowledge evolved from it the brilliant idea of the preservation of better-equipped races in the struggle for life, or, as Herbert Spencer put it, the survival of the fittest. At one bound the gloomy revelations of misery which the “Essay on Population” contained, were exchanged for the bright view of perpetual progress and improvement as being necessitated and brought about by the very struggle which ensued upon the natural increase of animal and plant life. Instead of struggle and pain, producing starvation and extinction merely, struggle and pain were seen as the conditions of development and improvement; the death of the lower, the life of the higher.

It is less profitable here to attempt to sketch the history of ideas of evolution in general, because that history as now revealed by research, and as detailed by many writers, was not the path along which Darwin travelled. Indeed, many of these ideas were not disinterred, and certainly were not brought to Darwin’s notice till after the publication of the “Origin of Species.” True he read Robert Chambers’s “Vestiges of Creation,” which, with its “powerful and brilliant style,” although displaying in its earlier editions “little accurate knowledge and a great want of scientific caution,” Darwin acknowledges to have done excellent service in calling attention to the subject, in removing prejudice, and in preparing the ground for the reception of analogous views. Herbert Spencer, in his Essay on the Development Hypothesis, first published in The Leader in March, 1852, and republished in his “Essays” (first series, 1858), argued that species have been modified owing to change of circumstances, basing his argument upon the analogy of domestic animals and plants, the changes which the embryos of many species undergo, and the difficulty of distinguishing species and varieties.