“I see,” said Samuel, awestricken. “But isn't it rather hard?”
“It seems so—to the individual. To the race it is really of the very greatest benefit. It is the process of life.”
“Please tell me,” Samuel's look seemed to say.
“If you will consider Nature,” Professor Stewart continued, “you will observe that she always produces many times more individuals than can possibly reach maturity. The salmon lays millions of eggs, and thousands of young trees spring up in every thicket. And these individuals struggle for a chance to live, and those survive which are strongest and best fitted to meet the conditions. And precisely the same thing is true among men—there is no other way by which the race could be improved, or even kept at its present standard. Those who perish are sacrificed for the benefit of the race.”
Now, strange as it may seem, Samuel had never before heard the phrase, “the survival of the fittest.” And so now he was living over the experience of the thinking world of fifty or sixty years ago. What a marvelous generalization it was! What a range of life it covered! And how obvious it seemed—one could think of a hundred things, perfectly well known, which fitted into it. And yet he had never thought of it himself! The struggle for existence! The survival of the fittest!
A few days ago Samuel had discovered music. And now he was discovering science. What an extraordinary thing was the intellect of man, which could take all the infinitely varied facts of life and interpret them in the terms of one vast law.
Samuel was all aglow with excitement at the revelation. “I see,” he said, again and again—“I see!”
“It is the law of life,” said the professor. “No one can escape from it.”
“And then,” said Samuel, “when we try to change things—when we give out charity, for instance—we are working against Nature, and we really make things worse.”
“That is it,” replied the other.