Though Mr. Darwin, if he was to have any point of difference from his grandfather, was bound to make his variations accidental, yet, to do him justice, he did not like it. Even in the earlier editions of the “Origin of Species,” where the “alterations” in the passage last quoted are called “accidental” in express terms, the word does not fall, so to speak, on a strong beat of the bar, and is apt to pass unnoticed. Besides, Mr. Darwin does not say point blank “we may believe,” or “we ought to believe;” he only says “may we not believe?” The reader should always be on his guard when Mr. Darwin asks one of these bland and child-like questions, and he is fond of asking them; but, however this may be, it is plain, as I pointed out in “Evolution Old and New” [93a] that the only “skill,” that is to say the only thing that can possibly involve design, is “the unerring skill” of natural selection.
In the same paragraph Mr. Darwin has already said: “Further, we must suppose that there is a power represented by natural selection or the survival of the fittest always intently watching each slight alteration, &c.” Mr. Darwin probably said “a power represented by natural selection” instead of “natural selection” only, because he saw that to talk too frequently about the fact that the most lucky live longest as “intently watching” something was greater nonsense than it would be prudent even for him to write, so he fogged it by making the intent watching done by “a power represented by” a fact, instead of by the fact itself. As the sentence stands it is just as great nonsense as it would have been if “the survival of the fittest” had been allowed to do the watching instead of “the power represented by” the survival of the fittest, but the nonsense is harder to dig up, and the reader is more likely to pass it over.
This passage gave Mr. Darwin no less trouble than it must have given to many of his readers. In the original edition of the “Origin of Species” it stood, “Further, we must suppose that there is a power always intently watching each slight accidental variation.” I suppose it was felt that if this was allowed to stand, it might be fairly asked what natural selection was doing all this time? If the power was able to do everything that was necessary now, why not always? and why any natural selection at all? This clearly would not do, so in 1861 the power was allowed, by the help of brackets, actually to become natural selection, and remained so till 1869, when Mr. Darwin could stand it no longer, and, doubtless for the reason given above, altered the passage to “a power represented by natural selection,” at the same time cutting out the word “accidental.”
It may perhaps make the workings of Mr. Darwin’s mind clearer to the reader if I give the various readings of this passage as taken from the three most important editions of the “Origin of Species.”
In 1859 it stood, “Further, we must suppose that there is a power always intently watching each slight accidental alteration,” &c.
In 1861 it stood, “Further, we must suppose that there is a power (natural selection) always intently watching each slight accidental alteration,” &c.
And in 1869, “Further, we must suppose that there is a power represented by natural selection or the survival of the fittest always intently watching each slight alteration,” &c. [94a]
The hesitating feeble gait of one who fears a pitfall at every step, so easily recognisable in the “numerous, successive, slight alterations” in the foregoing passage, may be traced in many another page of the “Origin of Species” by those who will be at the trouble of comparing the several editions. It is only when this is done, and the working of Mr. Darwin’s mind can be seen as though it were the twitchings of a dog’s nose, that any idea can be formed of the difficulty in which he found himself involved by his initial blunder of thinking he had got a distinctive feature which entitled him to claim the theory of evolution as an original idea of his own. He found his natural selection hang round his neck like a millstone. There is hardly a page in the “Origin of Species” in which traces of the struggle going on in Mr. Darwin’s mind are not discernible, with a result alike exasperating and pitiable. I can only repeat what I said in “Evolution Old and New,” namely, that I find the task of extracting a well-defined meaning out of Mr. Darwin’s words comparable only to that of trying to act on the advice of a lawyer who has obscured the main issue as much as he can, and whose chief aim has been to leave as many loopholes as possible for himself to escape by, if things should go wrong hereafter. Or, again, to that of one who has to construe an Act of Parliament which was originally drawn with a view to throwing as much dust as possible in the eyes of those who would oppose the measure, and which, having been found utterly unworkable in practice, has had clauses repealed up and down it till it is now in an inextricable tangle of confusion and contradiction.
The more Mr. Darwin’s work is studied, and more especially the more his different editions are compared, the more impossible is it to avoid a suspicion of arrière pensée as pervading it whenever the “distinctive feature” is on the tapis. It is right to say, however, that no such suspicion attaches to Mr. A. R. Wallace, Mr. Darwin’s fellow discoverer of natural selection. It is impossible to doubt that Mr. Wallace believed he had made a real and important improvement upon the Lamarckian system, and, as a natural consequence, unlike Mr. Darwin, he began by telling us what Lamarck had said. He did not, I admit, say quite all that I should have been glad to have seen him say, nor use exactly the words I should myself have chosen, but he said enough to make it impossible to doubt his good faith, and his desire that we should understand that with him, as with Mr. Darwin, variations are mainly accidental, not functional. Thus, in his memorable paper communicated to the Linnean Society in 1858 he said, in a passage which I have quoted in “Unconscious Memory”:
“The hypothesis of Lamarck—that progressive changes in species have been produced by the attempts of the animals to increase the development of their own organs, and thus modify their structures and habits—has been repeatedly and easily refuted by all writers on the subject of varieties and species; . . . but the view here developed renders such an hypothesis quite unnecessary. . . . The powerful retractile talons of the falcon and cat tribes have not been produced or increased by the volition of those animals; . . . neither did the giraffe acquire its long neck by desiring to reach the foliage of the more lofty shrubs, and constantly stretching its neck for this purpose, but because any varieties which occurred among its antitypes with a longer neck than usual at once secured a fresh range of pasture over the same ground as their shorter-necked companions, and on the first scarcity of food were thus enabled to outlive them” (italics in original). [96a]