Imprimatur

Genesis of Species

Underlined text was edited by AI to fix errors.
Now it can hardly be contended that the preservation of any race of men in the struggle for life ever depended on such an extreme delicacy and refinement of the internal ear,—a perfection only exercised in the enjoyment and appreciation of the most perfect musical performances. How, then, could either the minute incipient stages, or the final perfecting touches of this admirable structure, have been brought about by vague, aimless, and indefinite variations in all conceivable directions of an organ, suitable to enable the rudest savage to minister to his necessities, but no more?
Mr. Wallace makes an analogous remark with regard to the organ of voice in man—the human larynx. He says of singing: “The habits of savages give no indication of how this faculty could have been developed by Natural Selection, because it is never required or used by them. The singing of savages is a more or less monotonous howling, and the females seldom sing at all. Savages certainly never choose their wives for fine voices, but for rude health, and strength, and physical beauty. Sexual selection could not therefore have developed this wonderful power, which only comes into play among civilized people.”
Reverting once more to beauty of form and colour, there is one manifestation of it for which no one can pretend that sexual selection can possibly account. The instance referred to is that presented by bivalve shell-fish. Here we meet with charming tints and elegant forms and markings of no direct use to their possessors in the struggle for life, and of no indirect utility as regards sexual selection, for fertilization takes place by the mere action of currents of water, and the least beautiful individual has fully as good a chance of becoming a parent as has the one which is the most favoured in beauty of form and colour.
Again, the peculiar outline and coloration of certain orchids—notably of our own bee, fly, and spider orchids—seem hardly explicable by any action of “Natural Selection.” Mr. Darwin says very little on this singular resemblance of flowers to insects, and what he does say seems hardly to be what an advocate of “Natural Selection” would require. Surely, for minute accidental indefinite variations to have built up such a striking resemblance to insects, we ought to find that the preservation of the plant, or the perpetuation of its race, depends almost constantly on relations between bees, spiders, and flies respectively and the bee, spider, and fly orchids. This process must have continued for ages constantly and perseveringly, and yet what is the fact? Mr. Darwin tells us, in his work on the Fertilization of Orchids, that neither the spider nor the fly orchids are much visited by insects, while, with regard to the bee orchid, he says, “I have never seen an insect visit these flowers.” And he shows how this species is even wonderfully and specially modified to effect self-fertilization.
In the work just referred to Mr. Darwin gives a series of the most wonderful and minute contrivances by which the visits of insects are utilized for the fertilization of orchids,—structures so wonderful that nothing could well be more so, except the attribution of their origin to minute, fortuitous, and indefinite variation.
The instances are too numerous and too long to quote, but in his “Origin of Species” he describes two which must not be passed over. In one (Coryanthes) the orchid has its lower lip enlarged into a bucket, above which stand two water-secreting horns. These latter replenish the bucket from which, when half-filled, the water overflows by a spout on one side. Bees visiting the flower fall into the bucket and crawl out at the spout. By the peculiar arrangement of the parts of the flower, the first bee which does so carries away the pollen-mass glued to his back, and then when he has his next involuntary bath in another flower, as he crawls out the pollen-mass attached to him comes in contact with the stigma of that second flower and fertilizes it. In the other example (Catasetum), when a bee gnaws a certain part of the flower, he inevitably touches a long delicate projection, which Mr. Darwin calls the antenna. “This antenna transmits a vibration to a certain membrane, which is instantly ruptured; this sets free a spring by which the pollen-mass is shot forth like an arrow in the right direction, and adheres by its viscid extremity to the back of the bee!”
Another difficulty, and one of some importance, is presented by those communities of ants which have not only a population of sterile females, or workers, but two distinct and very different castes of such. Mr. Darwin believes that he has got over this difficulty by having found individuals intermediate in form and structure between the two working castes; others may think that we have in this belief of Mr. Darwin, an example of the unconscious action of volition upon credence. A vast number of difficulties similar to those which have been mentioned might easily be cited—those given, however, may suffice.
There remains, however, to be noticed a very important consideration, which was brought forward in the North British Review for June 1867, p. 286, namely, the necessity for the simultaneous modification of many individuals. This consideration seems to have escaped Mr. Darwin, for at p. 104 of his last (fifth) edition of “Natural Selection,” he admits, with great candour, that until reading this article he did not “appreciate how rarely single variations, whether slight or strongly marked, could be perpetuated.”
The North British Review (speaking of the supposition that a species is changed by the survival of a few individuals in a century through a similar and favourable variation) says: “It is very difficult to see how this can be accomplished, even when the variation is eminently favourable indeed; and still more difficult when the advantage gained is very slight, as must generally be the case. The advantage, whatever it may be, is utterly outbalanced by numerical inferiority. A million creatures are born; ten thousand survive to produce offspring. One of the million has twice as good a chance as any other of surviving; but the chances are fifty to one against the gifted individuals being one of the hundred survivors. No doubt the chances are twice as great against any one other individual, but this does not prevent their being enormously in favour of some average individual. However slight the advantage may be, if it is shared by half the individuals produced, it will probably be present in at least fifty-one of the survivors, and in a larger proportion of their offspring; but the chances are against the preservation of any one ‘sport’ (i.e. sudden, marked variation) in a numerous tribe. The vague use of an imperfectly understood doctrine of chance has led Darwinian supporters, first, to confuse the two cases above distinguished; and, secondly, to imagine that a very slight balance in favour of some individual sport must lead to its perpetuation. All that can be said is that in the above example the favoured sport would be preserved once in fifty times. Let us consider what will be its influence on the main stock when preserved. It will breed and have a progeny of say 100; now this progeny will, on the whole, be intermediate between the average individual and the sport. The odds in favour of one of this generation of the new breed will be, say one and a half to one, as compared with the average individual; the odds in their favour will, therefore, be less than that of their parents; but owing to their greater number, the chances are that about one and a half of them would survive. Unless these breed together, a most improbable event, their progeny would again approach the average individual; there would be 150 of them, and their superiority would be, say in the ratio of one and a quarter to one; the probability would now be that nearly two of them would survive, and have 200 children, with an eighth superiority. Rather more than two of these would survive;
but the superiority would again dwindle, until after a few generations it would no longer be observed, and would count for no more in the struggle for life than any of the hundred trifling advantages which occur in the ordinary organs. An illustration will bring this conception home. Suppose a white man to have been wrecked on an island inhabited by negroes, and to have established himself in friendly relations with a powerful tribe, whose customs he has learnt. Suppose him to possess the physical strength, energy, and ability of a dominant white race, and let the food and climate of the island suit his constitution; grant him every advantage which we can conceive a white to possess over the native; concede that in the struggle for existence his chance of a long life will be much superior to that of the native chiefs; yet from all these admissions, there does not follow the conclusion that, after a limited or unlimited number of generations, the inhabitants of the island will be white. Our shipwrecked hero would probably become king; he would kill a great many blacks in the struggle for existence; he would have a great many wives and children.” ... “In the first generation there will be some dozens of intelligent young mulattoes, much superior in average intelligence to the negroes. We might expect the throne for some generations to be occupied by a more or less yellow king; but can any one believe that the whole island will gradually acquire a white, or even a yellow, population?”
“Darwin says that in the struggle for life a grain may turn the balance in favour of a given structure, which will then be preserved. But one of the weights in the scale of nature is due to the number of a given tribe. Let there be 7000 A’s and 7000 B’s, representing two varieties of a given animal, and let all the B’s, in virtue of a slight difference of structure, have the better chance of life by 1/7000 part. We must allow that there is a slight probability that the descendants of B will supplant the descendants of A; but let there be only 7001 A’s against 7000 B’s at first, and the chances are once more equal, while if there be 7002 A’s to start, the odds would be laid on the A’s. True, they stand a greater chance of being killed; but then they can better afford to be killed. The grain will only turn the scales when these are very nicely balanced, and an advantage in numbers counts for weight, even as an advantage in structure. As the numbers of the favoured variety diminish, so must its relative advantages increase, if the chance of its existence is to surpass the chance of its extinction, until hardly any conceivable advantage would enable the descendants of a single pair to exterminate the descendants of many thousands if they and their descendants are supposed to breed freely with the inferior variety, and so gradually lose their ascendency.”
Mr. Darwin himself says of the article quoted: “The justice of these remarks cannot, I think, be disputed. If, for instance, a bird of some kind could procure its food more easily by having its beak curved, and if one were born with its beak strongly curved, and which consequently flourished, nevertheless there would be a very poor chance of this one individual perpetuating its kind to the exclusion of the common form.” This admission seems almost to amount to a change of front in the face of the enemy!
These remarks have been quoted at length because they so greatly intensify the difficulties brought forward in this chapter. If the most favourable variations have to contend with such difficulties, what must be thought as to the chance of preservation of the slightly displaced eye in a sole or of the incipient development of baleen in a whale?