Darwin imagined grandly, and verified his imaginings as far as one man’s life suffices; and no man can do more. And Darwin won, as far as a man can win, success during his lifetime. As Professor Huxley said, in lecturing on “The Coming of Age of ‘The Origin of Species,’” “the foremost men of science in every country are either avowed champions of its leading doctrines, or at any rate abstain from opposing them.” His prescience has in less than a generation been justified by the discovery of intermediate fossil forms of animals too numerous to be here recounted. The break between vertebrate and invertebrate animals, between flowering and non-flowering plants, between animal and plant, is now bridged over by discoveries in the life histories of animals and plants which exist to-day. Embryo animals and plants are now known to go through stages which repeat and condense the upward ascent of life; and they give us information of the greatest value as to lost stages in the path. We can, as it were, see the actual track through which evolution may have proceeded. “Thus,” says Professor Huxley, “if the doctrine of evolution had not existed, palæontologists must have invented it, so irresistibly is it forced upon the mind by the study of the remains of the Tertiary mammalia which have been brought to light since 1859;” and again, “so far as the animal world is concerned, evolution is no longer a speculation, but a statement of historical fact.”
As to the limits of the truth of Darwin’s theory, Professor Huxley, writing on “Evolution in Biology,” in “The Encyclopædia Britannica,” says: “How far natural selection suffices for the production of species remains to be seen. Few can doubt that, if not the whole cause, it is a very important factor in that operation; and that it must play a great part in the sorting out of varieties into those which are transitory, and those which are permanent. But the causes and conditions of variation have yet to be thoroughly explored; and the importance of natural selection will not be impaired, even if further inquiries should prove that variability is definite, and is determined in certain directions rather than in others, by conditions inherent in that which varies.”
We have not space to describe the importance of the work Darwin did in, or bearing on, entomology, changing its face and vastly elevating its importance. A volume might be compiled from his writings on this subject, as reference to Professor Riley’s excellent summary (Darwin Memorial Meeting, Washington, 1882) will readily show. Nor can we recount his important work in other branches of biology further than has been already done in the foregoing pages. To do so would require much more than a volume of this size.
One special department may perhaps claim notice on the ground of its supposed non-scientific character. Dr. Masters (Gardeners’ Chronicle, April 22, 1882) says of Darwin’s service to horticulture: “Let any one who knows what was the state of botany in this country even so recently as fifteen or twenty years ago, compare the feeling between botanists and horticulturists at that time with what it is now. What sympathy had the one for the pursuits of the other? The botanist looked down on the varieties, the races, and strains, raised with so much pride by the patient skill of the florist as on things unworthy of his notice and study. The horticulturist, on his side, knowing how very imperfectly plants could be studied from the mummified specimens in herbaria, which then constituted in most cases all the material that the botanist of this country considered necessary for the study of plants, naturally looked on the botanist somewhat in the light of a laborious trifler.... Darwin altered all this. He made the dry bones live; he invested plants and animals with a history, a biography, a genealogy, which at once conferred an interest and a dignity on them. Before, they were as the stuffed skin of a beast in the glass case of a museum; now they are living beings, each in their degree affected by the same circumstances that affect ourselves, and swayed, mutatis mutandis, by like feelings and like passions. If he had done nothing more than this we might still have claimed Darwin as a horticulturist; but as we shall see, he has more direct claims on our gratitude. The apparently trifling variations, the variations which it was once the fashion for botanists to overlook, have become, as it were, the keystone of a great theory.”
A valuable summary of Darwin’s influence on general philosophic thought has been given by Mr. James Sully, in his article, “Evolution in Philosophy,” in “The Encyclopædia Britannica,” 9th ed., vol. viii. He, like many other thinkers, considers that Darwin has done much to banish old ideas as to the evidence of purpose in nature. Mr. Sully’s views are not entirely shared, however, by Professor Winchell, an able American evolutionist (“Encyclopædia Americana,” vol. ii.) who considers that the question of teleology, or of purpose in nature, is not really touched by the special principle of natural selection, nor by the general doctrine of evolution. The mechanical theorist may, consistently with these doctrines, maintain that every event takes place without a purpose; while the teleologist, or believer in purpose, may no less consistently maintain that the more orderly and uniform we find the succession of events, the more reason is there to presume that a purposeful intelligence is regulating them. It is certainly impossible to show that the whole system of evolution does not exist for a purpose. The ranks of the evolutionists, and even of the Darwinians, as a fact, embrace believers in the most diverse systems of philosophy, including many of those who accept Christ’s teaching as an authoritative Divine revelation. May not this diversity among Darwinians itself teach hope? Darwinism is held with vital grip and will therefore not become a dead creed, a fossil formula. The belief that every generation is a step in progress to a higher and fuller life contains within it the promise of a glorious evolution which is no longer a faint hope, but a reasoned faith.
“Man’s thought is like Antæus, and must be
Touched to the ground of Nature to regain
Fresh force, new impulse, else it would remain
Dead in the grip of strong Authority.
But, once thereon reset, ’tis like a tree,
Sap-swollen in spring-time: bonds may not restrain;
Nor weight repress; its rootlets rend in twain
Dead stones and walls and rocks resistlessly.
Thine then it was to touch dead thoughts to earth,
Till of old dreams sprang new philosophies,
From visions systems, and beneath thy spell
Swiftly uprose, like magic palaces,—
Thyself half-conscious only of thy worth—
Calm priest of a tremendous oracle.”[13]
Here let us leave Charles Darwin; a marvellously patient and successful revolutioniser of thought; a noble and beloved man.