It was however with the great ouburst of scientific activity which followed Linnaeus that the difficulty became acute. Simultaneously vast masses of new material were being collected from all parts of the world into the museums, and the products of the older countries were re-examined with a fresh zeal and on a scale of quantity previously unattempted. But the problem how to name the forms and where to draw lines, how much should be included under one name and where a new name was required, all this was felt, rather as a cataloguer's difficulty than as a physiological problem. And so we still hear on the one hand of the confusion caused by excessive "splitting" and subdivisions, and on the other of the uncritical "lumpers" who associate together under one name forms which another collector or observer would like to see distinguished.
In spite of Darwin's hopes, the acceptance of his views has led to no real improvement—scarcely indeed to any change at all in either the practice or aims of systematists. In a famous passage in the Origin he confidently declares that when his interpretation is generally adopted "Systematists will be able to pursue their labours as at present; but they will not be incessantly haunted by the shadowy doubt whether this or that form be a true species. This, I feel sure, and I speak after experience, will be no slight relief. The endless disputes whether or not some fifty species of British brambles are good species will cease." Those disputes nevertheless proceed almost exactly as before. It is true that biologists in general do not, as formerly, participate in these discussions because they have abandoned systematics altogether; but those who are engaged in the actual work of naming and cataloguing animals and plants usually debate the old questions in the old way. There is still the same divergence of opinion and of practice, some inclining to make much of small differences, others to neglect them.
Not only does the work of the systematists as a whole proceed as if Darwin had never written but their attitude towards these problems is but little changed. In support of this statement I may refer to several British Museum Catalogues, much of the Biologia Centrali-Americana, Ridgway's Birds of North America, the Fauna Hawaiensis, indeed to almost any of the most important systematic publications of England, America, or any other country. These works are compiled by the most proficient systematists of all countries in the several groups, but with rare exceptions they show little misgiving as to the fundamental reality of specific differences. That the systematists consider the species-unit as of primary importance is shown by the fact that the whole business of collection and distribution of specimens is arranged with regard to it.
Almost always the collections are arranged in such a way that the phenomena of variation are masked. Forms intermediate between two species are, if possible, sorted into separate boxes under a third specific name. If a species is liable to be constantly associated with a mutational form, the mutants are picked out, regardless of the circumstances of their origin, from the samples among which they were captured, and put apart under a special name. Only by a minute study of the original labels of the specimens and by redistributing them according to locality and dates, can their natural relations be traced. The published accounts of these collections often take no notice of variations, others make them the subject of casual reference. Very few indeed treat them as of much importance. From such indications it is surely evident that the systematists attach to the conception of species a significance altogether different from that which Darwin contemplated.
I am well aware that some very eminent systematists regard the whole problem as solved. They hold as Darwin did that specific diversity has no physiological foundation or causation apart from fitness, and that species are impermanent groups, the delimitations of which are ultimately determined by environmental exigency or "fitness." The specific diversity of living things is thus regarded as being something quite different in nature from the specific diversity of inorganic substances. In practice those who share these opinions are, as might be anticipated, to be found among the 'lumpers' rather than among the 'splitters.' In their work, certainly, the Darwinian theory is actually followed as a guiding principle; unanalysed inter-gradations of all kinds are accepted as impugning the integrity of species; the underlying physiological problem is forgotten, and while the product is almost valueless as a contribution to biological research, I can scarcely suppose that it aids greatly in the advances of other branches of our science.
But why is it that, with these exceptions, the consequences of the admittedly general acceptance of a theory of evolution are so little reflected in the systematic treatment of living things? Surely the reason is that though the systematist may be convinced of the general truth of the evolution theory at large, he is still of opinion that species are really distinct things. For him there are still 'good' species and 'bad' species and his experience tells him that the distinction between the two is not simply a question of degree or a matter of opinion.
To some it may seem that this is mere perversity, a refusal to see obvious truth, a manifestation of the spirit of the collector rather than of the naturalist. But while recognising that from a magnification of the conception of species the systematists are occasionally led into absurdity I do not think the grounds for their belief have in recent times been examined with the consideration they deserve. The phenomenon of specific diversity is manifested to a similar degree by living things belonging to all the great groups, from the highest to the lowest, Vertebrates, Invertebrates, Protozoa, Vascular Plants, Algae, and Bacteria, all present diversities of such a kind that among them the existence of specific differences can on the whole be recognised with a similar degree of success and with very similar limitations. In all these groups there are many species quite definite and unmistakable, and others practically indefinite. The universal presence of specificity, as we may call it, similarly limited and characterised, is one of its most remarkable features. Not only is this specificity thus universally present among the different forms of life, but it manifests itself in respect of the most diverse characteristics which living things display. Species may thus be distinguished by peculiarities of form, of number, of geometrical arrangement, of chemical constitution and properties, of sexual differentiation, of development, and of many other properties. In any one or in several of these features together, species may be found distinguished from other species. It is also to be observed that the definiteness of these distinctions has no essential dependence on the nature of the characteristic which manifests them. It is for example sometimes said that colour-distinctions are of small systematic importance, but every systematist is familiar with examples (like that of the wild species of Gallus) in which colours though complex, show very little variation. On the other hand features of structure, sexual differentiation, and other attributes which by our standards are estimated as essential, may be declared to show much variation or little, not according to any principle which can be detected, but simply as the attention happens to be applied to one species or group of species, or to another. In many groups of animals and plants observers have hit upon characters which were for a time thought to be finally diagnostic of species. The Lepidoptera and Diptera for instance, have been re-classified according to their neuration. Through a considerable range of forms determinations may be easily made on these characters, but as is now well known, neuration is no more immune from variation than any other feature of organisation, and in some species great variability is the rule. Again it was once believed by some that the genitalia of the Lepidoptera provided a basis of final determination—with a similar sequel. In some groups, for example the Lycaenidae, or the Hesperidae, there are forms almost or quite indistinguishable on external examination, but a glance at the genitalia suffices to distinguish numerous species, while on the contrary among Pieridae a great range of species show scarcely any difference in these respects: and again in occasional species the genitalia show very considerable variations.
The proposition that animals and plants are on the whole divisible into definite and recognisable species is an approximation to the truth. Such a statement is readily defensible, whereas to assert the contrary would be palpably absurd. For example, a very competent authority lately wrote: "In the whole Lepidopterous fauna of England there is no species of really uncertain limits."[7] Others may be disposed to make certain reservations, but such exceptions would be so few as scarcely to impair the validity of the general statement. The declaration might be extended to other orders and other lands.
We know, of course, that the phenomenon of specific diversity is complicated by local differentiation: that, in general, forms which cannot disperse themselves freely exhibit a multitude of local races, and that of these some are obviously adaptative, and that a few even owe their peculiarity to direct environmental effects. Every systematist also is perfectly aware that in dealing with collections from little explored countries the occurrence of polymorphism or even of sporadic variation may make the practical business of distinguishing the species difficult and perhaps for the time impossible; still, conceding that a great part of the diversity is due to geographical differentiation, and that some is sporadic variation, our experience of our own floras and faunas encourages the belief that if we were thoroughly familiar with these exotic productions it would usually be possible to assign their specific limitations with an approach to certainty.
For apart from any question of the justice of these wider inferences, if we examine the phenomenon of specificity as it appears in those examples which are nearest to hand, surely we find signs in plenty that specific distinction is no mere consequence of Natural Selection. The strength of this proposition has lain mainly in the appeal to ignorance. Steadily with the growth of knowledge has its cogency diminished, and such a belief could only have been formulated at a time when the facts of variation were unknown.