It is now thirty years since I gave an analysis in the first edition of my "Principles of Geology" (volume 2 1832) of the views which had been put forth by Lamarck, in the beginning of the century, on this subject. In that interval the progress made in zoology and botany, both in augmenting the number of known animals and plants, and in studying their physiology and geographical distribution and above all in examining and describing fossil species, is so vast that the additions made to our knowledge probably exceed all that was previously known; and what Lamarck then foretold has come to pass; the more new forms have been multiplied, the less are we able to decide what we mean by a variety, and what by a species. In fact, zoologists and botanists are not only more at a loss than ever how to define a species, but even to determine whether it has any real existence in nature, or is a mere abstraction of the human intellect, some contending that it is constant within certain narrow and impassable limits of variability, others that it is capable of indefinite and endless modification.
Before I attempt to explain a great step, which has recently been made by Mr. Darwin and his fellow-labourers in this field of inquiry, I think it useful to recapitulate in this place some of the leading features of Lamarck's system, without attempting to adjust the claims of some of his contemporaries (Geoffroy St. Hilaire in particular) to share in the credit of some of his original speculations.
From the time of Linnaeus to the commencement of the present century, it seemed a sufficient definition of the term species to say that "a species consisted of individuals all resembling each other, and reproducing their like by generation." But Lamarck after having first studied botany with success, had then turned his attention to conchology, and soon became aware that in the newer (or Tertiary) strata of the earth's crust there were a multitude of fossil species of shells, some of them identical with living ones, others simply varieties of the living, and which as such were entitled to be designated, according to the ordinary rules of classification, by the same names. He also observed that other shells were so nearly allied to living forms that it was difficult not to suspect that they had been connected by a common bond of descent. He therefore proposed that the element of time should enter into the definition of a species, and that it should run thus: "A species consists of individuals all resembling each other, and reproducing their like by generation, SO LONG AS THE SURROUNDING CONDITIONS DO NOT UNDERGO CHANGES SUFFICIENT TO CAUSE THEIR HABITS, CHARACTERS, AND FORMS TO VARY." He came at last to the conclusion that none of the animals and plants now existing were primordial creations, but were all derived from pre-existing forms, which, after they may have gone on for indefinite ages reproducing their like, had at length, by the influence of alterations in climate and in the animate world been made to vary gradually, and adapt themselves to new circumstances, some of them deviating in the course of ages so far from their original type as to have claims to be regarded as new species.
In support of these views, he referred to wild and cultivated plants and to wild and domesticated animals, pointing out how their colour, form, structure, physiological attributes and even instincts were gradually modified by exposure to new soils and climates, new enemies, modes of subsistence, and kinds of food.
Nor did he omit to notice that the newly acquired peculiarities may be inherited by the offspring for an indefinite series of generations, whether they be brought about naturally—as when a species, on the extreme verge of its geographical range, comes into competition with new antagonists and is subjected to new physical conditions; or artificially—as when by the act of the breeder or horticulturist peculiar varieties of form or disposition are selected.
But Lamarck taught not only that species had been constantly undergoing changes from one geological period to another, but that there also had been a progressive advance of the organic world from the earliest to the latest times, from beings of the simplest to those of more and more complex structure, and from the lowest instincts up to the highest, and finally from brute intelligence to the reasoning powers of Man. The improvement in the grade of being had been slow and continuous, and the human race itself was at length evolved out of the most highly organised and endowed of the inferior mammalia.
In order to explain how, after an indefinite lapse of ages, so many of the lowest grades of animal or plant still abounded, he imagined that the germs or rudiments of living things, which he called monads, were continually coming into the world and that there were different kinds of these monads for each primary division of the animal and vegetable kingdoms. This last hypothesis does not seem essentially different from the old doctrine of equivocal or spontaneous generation; it is wholly unsupported by any modern experiments or observation, and therefore affords us no aid whatever in speculating on the commencement of vital phenomena on the earth.
Some of the laws which govern the appearance of new varieties were clearly pointed out by Lamarck. He remarked, for example, that as the muscles of the arm become strengthened by exercise or enfeebled by disuse, some organs may in this way, in the course of time, become entirely obsolete, and others previously weak become strong and play a new or more leading part in the organisation of a species. And so with instincts, where animals experience new dangers they become more cautious and cunning, and transmit these acquired faculties to their posterity. But not satisfied with such legitimate speculations, the French philosopher conceived that by repeated acts of volition animals might acquire new organs and attributes, and that in plants, which could not exert a will of their own, certain subtle fluids or organising forces might operate so as to work out analogous effects.
After commenting on these purely imaginary causes, I pointed out in 1832, as the two great flaws in Lamarck's attempt to explain the origin of species, first, that he had failed to adduce a single instance of the initiation of a new organ in any species of animal or plant; and secondly, that variation, whether taking place in the course of nature or assisted artificially by the breeder and horticulturist, had never yet gone so far as to produce two races sufficiently remote from each other in physiological constitution as to be sterile when intermarried, or, if fertile, only capable of producing sterile hybrids, etc.*
(* "Principles of Geology" 1st edition volume 2 chapter 2.)