Darwin rests his theory on the small individual variations which occur in nature, as the following quotation shows:—

“It may be doubted whether sudden and considerable deviations of structure such as we occasionally see in our domestic productions, more especially with plants, are ever permanently propagated in a state of nature. Almost every part of every organic being is so beautifully related to its complex conditions of life that it seems as improbable that any part should have been suddenly produced perfect, as that a complex machine should have been invented by man in a perfect state. Under domestication monstrosities sometimes occur which resemble normal structures in widely different animals. Thus pigs have occasionally been born with a sort of proboscis, and if any wild species of the same genus had naturally possessed a proboscis, it might have been argued that this had appeared as a monstrosity; but I have as yet failed to find, after diligent search, cases of monstrosities resembling normal structures in nearly allied forms, and these alone bear on the question. If monstrous forms of this kind ever do appear in a state of nature and are capable of reproduction (which is not always the case), as they occur rarely and singly, their preservation would depend on unusually favorable circumstances. They would, also, during the first and succeeding generations cross with the ordinary form, and thus their abnormal character would almost inevitably be lost.”

It is clear that Darwin does not think that the sudden and large variations that sometimes occur furnish the basis for natural selection, and the final statement in the last citation (which was added in later editions of the “Origin of Species”), to the effect that if such monstrous variations appeared as single or occasional variations they would be lost by intercrossing implies that, in general, single variations would likewise be lost unless they appeared in a sufficient number of individuals to maintain themselves against the swamping effects of intercrossing.

It is necessary to quote again, in order to show that, in some cases at least, Darwin believed selection plays little or no part in the origin and maintenance of certain peculiarities that are of no use to the species. “There is one point connected with individual differences, which is extremely perplexing: I refer to those genera which have been called protean or ‘polymorphic,’ in which the species present an inordinate amount of variation. With respect to many of these forms, hardly two naturalists agree, whether to rank them as species or as varieties. We may instance Rubus, Rosa, and Hieracium amongst plants, several genera of insects and of Brachiopod shells. In most polymorphic genera some of the species have fixed and definite characters. Genera which are polymorphic in one country seem to be, with a few exceptions, polymorphic in other countries, and likewise, judging from Brachiopod shells, at former periods of time. These facts are very perplexing, for they seem to show that this kind of variability is independent of the conditions of life. I am inclined to suspect that we see, at least in some of these polymorphic genera, variations which are of no service or disservice to the species, and which consequently have not been seized on by selection to act on and accumulate, in the same manner as man accumulates in any given direction individual differences in his domesticated productions. These individual differences generally affect what naturalists consider unimportant parts; but I could show by a long catalogue of facts, that parts which must be called important, whether viewed under a physiological or classificatory point of view, sometimes vary in the individuals of the same species. I am convinced that the most experienced naturalist would be surprised at the number of cases of variability, even in important parts of structure, which he could collect on good authority, as I have collected, during a course of years.”

After pointing out that naturalists have no definite standard to determine whether a group of individuals is a variety or a species, Darwin makes the highly important admissions contained in the following paragraph: “Hence, I look at individual differences, though of small interest to the systematist, as of the highest importance for us, as being the first steps toward such slight varieties as are barely thought worth recording in works on natural history. And I look at varieties which are in any degree more distinct and permanent, as steps toward more strongly marked and permanent varieties; and at the latter, as leading to subspecies, and then to species. The passage from one stage of difference to another may, in many cases, be the simple result of the nature of the organism and of the different physical conditions to which it has long been exposed; but with respect to the more important and adaptive characters, the passage from one stage of difference to another may be safely attributed to the cumulative action of natural selection, hereafter to be explained, and to the effects of the increased use or disuse of parts. A well-marked variety may therefore be called an incipient species; but whether this belief is justifiable must be judged by the weight of the various facts and considerations to be given throughout this work.”

In this paragraph attention should be called especially, first, to the statement in respect to the origin of varieties, which are said to arise through individual differences. It is not clear whether these differences are supposed to have appeared first in one, or in a few individuals, or in large numbers at the same time. Again, especial note should be made of the striking admission, that the passage from one stage to another may, in many cases, be the simple result of the nature of the organism and of the physical conditions surrounding it; but with respect to the more important and adaptive differences, natural selection “may safely” be supposed to have intervened. Is it to be wondered at that Darwin’s critics have sometimes accused him of playing fast and loose with the origin of varieties? And since this question is fundamental for the theory of natural selection, it is much to be regretted that Darwin leaves the matter in such a hazy condition. It may be said that, at the time when he wrote, he made the best of the evidence in regard to the origin of varieties. Be this as it may, a theory standing on no better foundations than this is not likely to be found satisfactory at the present time.

We come now to the most important chapters, the third and the fourth, of the “Origin of Species,” dealing with “the struggle for existence,” “natural selection,” or the “survival of the fittest.” Behind these fatal phrases, which have become almost household words, lurk many dangers for the unwary.

“It has been seen in the last chapter that amongst organic beings in a state of nature there is some individual variability: indeed I am not aware that this has ever been disputed. It is immaterial for us whether a multitude of doubtful forms be called species or subspecies or varieties; what rank, for instance, the two or three hundred doubtful forms of British plants are entitled to hold, if the existence of any well-marked varieties be admitted. But the mere existence of individual variability and of some few well-marked varieties, though necessary as the foundation for the work, helps us but little in understanding how species arise in nature. How have all those exquisite adaptions of one part of the organization to another part, and to the conditions of life, and of one organic being to another being, been perfected? We see these beautiful coadaptions most plainly in the woodpecker and the mistletoe; and only a little less plainly in the humblest parasite which clings to the hairs of a quadruped or feathers of a bird; in the structure of the beetle which dives through the water; in the plumed seed which is wafted by the gentlest breeze; in short, we see beautiful adaptions everywhere and in every part of the organic world.

“Again, it may be asked, how is it that varieties, which I have called incipient species, become ultimately converted into good and distinct species, which in most cases obviously differ from each other far more than do the varieties of the same species? How do those groups of species, which constitute what are called distinct genera, and which differ from each other more than do the species of the same genus, arise? All these results, as we shall more fully see in the next chapter, follow from the struggle for life. Owing to this struggle, variations, however slight and from whatever cause proceeding, if they be in any degree profitable to the individuals of a species, in their infinitely complex relations to other organic beings and to their physical conditions of life, will tend to the preservation of such individuals, and will generally be inherited by the offspring. The offspring, also, will thus have a better chance of surviving, for, of the many individuals of any species which are periodically born, but a small number can survive. I have called this principle, by which each slight variation, if useful, is preserved, by the term Natural Selection, in order to mark its relation to man’s power of selection. But the expression often used by Mr. Herbert Spencer of the Survival of the Fittest is more accurate, and is sometimes equally convenient. We have seen that man by selection can certainly produce great results, and can adapt organic beings to his own uses, through the accumulation of slight but useful variations, given to him by the hand of Nature. But Natural Selection, as we shall hereafter see, is a power incessantly ready for action, and is as immeasurably superior to man’s feeble efforts, as the works of Nature are to those of Art.”

Darwin gives the following explicit statement of the way in which he intends the term “struggle for existence” to be understood: “I should premise that I use this term in a large and metaphorical sense, including dependence of one being on another, and including (which is more important) not only the life of the individual, but success in leaving progeny. Two canine animals, in time of dearth, may be truly said to struggle with each other which shall get food and live. But a plant on the edge of a desert is said to struggle for life against the drought, though more properly it should be said to be dependent on the moisture. A plant which actually produces a thousand seeds of which only one on an average comes to maturity may be more truly said to struggle with the plants of the same and other kinds which already clothe the ground. The mistletoe is dependent on the apple, and a few other trees, but can only in a far-fetched sense be said to struggle with these trees, for if too many of these parasites grow on the same tree, it languishes and dies. But several seedling mistletoes, growing close together on the same branch, may more truly be said to struggle with each other. As the mistletoe is disseminated by birds, its existence depends on them, and it may metaphorically be said to struggle with other fruit-bearing plants, in tempting the birds to devour and thus disseminate its seeds. In these several senses, which pass into each other, I use for convenience’ sake the general term ‘Struggle for Existence.’”