I have not yet finished reading Darwin's “Origin of Species” (October, 1893); but what I have read has filled me with pain that so able a writer should have allowed himself to be so led astray. The apologies Darwin constantly makes for the inapplicability of his own arguments are very painful reading. Truth is always simple. Almost on every third page of his work Darwin admits that his theory fails. I grant that there is a certain amount of truth and reason in the theory, but it is mere side-play when we have to consider the real cause of the origin and divergence of species. Darwin's theory, to my mind, is like comparing the light of a candle with the sun. He only shows the procedure from cause to effect, his theory of natural selection not being the origin of species at all, but the play of progressive adaptation in the original plan.

I will instance, as well as I am able, the cases of divergence in fowls, sheep, cattle, horses, and plants, asking to be excused for many shortcomings. The first fowl we know of is the jungle-fowl of India and Sumatra, with the hackle feathers of the neck terminating in scales, partly showing its fish ancestry. From this fowl come the Malay, the Brahmapootra, the Chinese, the Leghorn (as Europe came to be more fully acquainted with Asia), the Spanish, then the French, and then the English breeds, all springing from and diverging from the one original stock, and all surging westward as civilisation advanced. Then, as America was opened up and settled, we got the Plymouth Rock and other North American varieties; and I suppose by-and-by we shall have South American and Australian varieties.

How comes it that we have the power to produce these varieties, either by selection or breeding? For it is quite possible to take a pair of fowls of two distinct and pure breeds, and produce a third variety, which can very quickly be made pure also.

In explaining this I shall explain the rule of law underlying the great principle of natural selection—viz., this power of divergence. The following appears to me to be the law: That no two things are exactly alike in nature—no two animals, birds, fishes, plants, blades of grass, flies, insects, bacilli. Each and all follow the types of their species; but no two are exactly alike in their construction—let us say, cellular or nervous construction. For if they were, then the danger would be that like would produce like, and some one disease specially severe upon that particular construction would sweep the whole order away. Thus if it were possible for two of the Chinese race to be exactly alike, and these two by their physique superior to the rest of the nation, and more suitable to the terrestrial conditions of things in China,

then their progeny would increase and multiply until the whole nation might become like them, when suddenly a disease specially fatal to that one organization would appear and extirpate it completely. But, as the rule of the vital force is that no two things can be alike, it is at once seen that no destruction of any one species can take place by any one disease or ailment.

This being granted, it follows that the power of divergence of all living things is without limit. In China, with 400,000,000 of inhabitants, we have consequently the power to diverge or naturally select 400,000,000 times. Similarly, in fowls, we have as yet but entered upon their variations. There may be, and doubtless are, thousands of other varieties yet to be selected, which can each be made pure. And these varieties fit themselves to climatic conditions as the conditions arise. We have seen fowls upon this planet produced step by step, variety after variety. But, nevertheless, no one can say that there may not be a thousand varieties yet to be produced by careful and judicious breeding or selection, suitable to a much larger planet and somewhat different climatic conditions. For the differences in fauna upon this planet, even during geological records, have been very remarkable. The vast difference between the moa and our domestic fowl opens up so wide a field of divergence that the mind is lost in conjecturing what the varieties may be of this one species alone of living things. There may, indeed, be millions of types of fowls to fill the gap between the moa and our common domestic hen.

In sheep the power of divergence is very remarkable also. A fellow-settler and I have been breeding Romney Marsh sheep for many years past. We both started with a certain strain of blood which we called the “Colonel” blood, from the name of the particular sheep imported. Our ewes also came from the late Mr. Ludlam's breeding, of the Hutt. Our residences are only thirty miles apart; but in fifteen years our sheep are totally different in type. Now, what had we done? We had each followed out in our mind's-eye, and kept to besides, the one particular variety or style of animal. The same with the differences in black-faced sheep, which no doubt came from the original black sheep. The same with the Lincolns, or Leicesters, or any of the English breeds. So limitless is the power of divergence that not only may each county in England have its particular breed of sheep, but each parish, each farm—that is, of course, so long as each variety can be kept apart from the other, and distinct. Fix upon the type of sheep you want, then breed in and select, is the plan. Yet, with this vast field of difference before us, Darwin tries to show that Mivart is wrong when he says that species change through an internal force or tendency. The term “progressive

adaptation” appears to me to describe the process of development better than Mivart's terms, but that need not be discussed now. In cattle the same reasoning applies. We all know the differences between the Shorthorns, Ayrshire, Devon, Black Angus, Dutch, Guernsey, Alderney, &c.; but who can say how many other varieties exist in any one of these breeds, which, by careful breeding and selection, can be produced? To my mind, the varieties are limitless, owing to the law that no two things in nature are exactly alike. Moreover, the differences in varieties of cattle often depend upon differences in food-supply. Thus Black Angus is better suited than other breeds for poor pasture and bleak rough hills. In men the same reasoning applies. We have the Malay, the Negro, the Caucasian, the Chinese, the Australian, each with their well-known and distinct varieties. And these varieties (fixed and distinct ages before this planet was born) occupy climates suitable to them, or adapt themselves readily to any fairly habitable climate. But the power of divergence in each variety is so remarkable that we quite wonder when we say that any two English persons out of thirty-five millions are alike. Therefore it is quite possible to produce thirty-five million different and distinct types of English men and women, which reasoning applies to all the other races of men, even to the Negro. We can therefore see how admirably fitted humanity is to adapt itself by change to the requirements and conditions of a million planets. I think I am entitled to consider that there are other planets exactly the same as this earth, not only from astronomical research (the continents and seas of Mars, ex. gra.) and spectrum analysis, but also from meteoric iron being found exactly similar to native iron in Greenland and North America. As many millions of meteorites doubtless fall within this earth's atmosphere every week, if not every day, from the size of a grain of sand upwards, and as they contain nickel, phosphides, and other silicates exactly like we have here, I think it is beyond an assumption for me to say that there are other planets existing under exactly similar conditions to this earth. But, in order to arrive at truth, and to explain my theory, I ask to be allowed to assume that there are other habitable planets, so that from this wider field of analogy we may gain an insight into the true origin of and reason for the different species we have here. In a late lecture, Sir Robert Ball, F.R.S., stated that “he was of the firm belief that life existed upon the planet Mars because of the fact that under almost any conditions of existence on this earth—in the burning deserts, amidst the polar ice, deep down in the sunless depths of the ocean—life was found accommodated to what surrounded it.” In saying this Sir R. Ball only exemplifies what I mean by

the doctrine of progressive adaptation. For twenty years past my friends have been bored, perhaps, by my insistence upon this doctrine, as opposed to Darwin's theory. But, once admit the possibility of the existence of life upon any of the planets attending the millions of star-suns we see around us, then Herbert Spencer's theory of the survival of the fittest and Darwin's theory of natural selection fall to the ground as the primal causes of the origin of species. The doctrine of progressive adaptation, founded upon a vital force common to all the planets, is the only simple and reasonable one we have to fall back upon.

In horses the power of divergence is just as remarkable when we think of the Arab, English roadster, carriage-horse, racer, Clydesdale, Suffolk Punch, Shetland or Timor pony, mustang, piebalds, creams, &c. Herein we might go on ad infinitum, save that we confine ourselves as much as possible to the one variety which gives us speed as racers.

In dogs the play of divergence appears also to be limitless. What possible agreement is there between a toy-terrier and a giant St. Bernard? And yet the two belong to the one species. We have between these extremes all the different varieties in terriers, collies, poodles, harriers, foxhounds, greyhounds, dachshunds, spaniels, bulldogs, mastiffs, and all the genus mongrel. No order in nature proves the truth of this rule of the common vital force better than the divergence in dogs. We see before us almost thousands of varieties, from which we can take any one and produce others. I do not say that all these different varieties of dogs are not evolved or selected from the one original type. I further do not say that this original type may not have been the wolf. I will also admit, for the sake of argument, that the wolf may have been, and still is, but a variety of the first original wild animal which came, let us say, from the fish, which was produced from protoplasm, which came from microscopic bacteria in our atmosphere, or from space. But what I wish to prove is that through the whole gamut the power of divergence was laid strictly down in accordance with rigid lines of progressive adaptation, and, whilst we are given the power to select different varieties, the varieties themselves are fixed and certain. They cannot depart one iota from the lines laid down for them millions of ages since, and in millions of other places. We can see that in fowls, in dogs, in sheep, even in men. The wonder to me is that the varieties are so numerous that, as I have before said, we think it strange when two Englishmen are said to be “like each other.” But the wonder is fully accounted for when we also see that the rule of the vital force appears to be that no two things are exactly alike in nature.

In plants the varieties and mutations are marvellous. Who

can limit the changes of form and colour in, say, roses, chrysanthemums, ixias, sparaxias, eucalypti, or any order we care to comment upon? A short time since the chrysanthemum was only a button in size in our gardens. Now it is cultivated into huge blooms of all manner of shape and colour—incurved, outcurved, deep-red, golden, &c. We make shows now of the variation of this one flower. Lately, too, we are producing green and black roses. Will any person venture to say that these variations are not laid down upon strictly rigid lines of outcome—that it is, in fact, possible for us here to create one single variation by the most careful selection new to the universe—that we can, in fact, produce any one new variety? I scarcely think so. I feel convinced that the lines of development have long since been settled, and man but opens the lid of the magic box which contains them. By selection he produces flower-models new to him, perhaps, but so old that the age of this very earth is but a moment in the time of their life.

I wish to point out now that there appears to me to be a certain order in this power of divergence. Thus in each species there are subtypes of a fixed type. For example, let any person take a thousand photographs of English faces. He will find to his surprise that it is quite easy to arrange these pictures according to their subtypes; but, nevertheless, no two are exactly alike. The same with sheep, dogs, horses, chrysanthemums. A beautiful pair of well-matched carriage-horses is another instance. We admire them very much, and say they are well matched; but the driver or groom knows what a vast difference there is between the two animals when he attends to them in their stable. As to a perfectly-matched four-in-hand team, we scarcely ever expect to see that, even out of the millions of horses there are in Europe. But, still, horses follow their subtypes sufficiently for us to say they are fairly matched.

For brevity's sake, I need not follow the rule of this law into the insect world. The microscope will no doubt reveal its ruling there just as fully as our eyes tell us it rules in the species and orders I have already named. I might refer in this section to the fact that I have made a small collection of different forms of coral from the South Sea coral-reefs (Pacific Ocean), and the variation of form in this collection is very surprising. Nearly all the forms follow the mode of structure of plants. But why plant-life should thus be copied by the coral polypi beneath the sea is strange. Doubtless the branching method of growth is the best and only form of rapid building-up. But nothing shows to my mind the wonderful guiding-power of the force I speak of more than the coral polyp building out its branches beneath the sea—branches similar to the

cellular construction in trees, lime branches following designs of which the polyp itself is supremely ignorant. It is the same with the frost upon our window-panes, which is often fernleaved in shape, so that it appears as if the vital force itself is bound to follow certain fixed lines of construction, no matter what the subsequent variations or divergences may be. This implies that the force itself is subject to a higher law still. With that implication I fully agree, for in many things, especially in construction, the force appears to act blindly. But all I am at present called upon to do is to show the exemplifications of the force in different living things. I might perhaps be allowed here to refer to the varieties of pigeons, if only to show the maze Darwin found himself in when considering their wonderful divergences. The rule of the law I am now pointing out I think explains many of that great thinker's doubts and hesitations.^* By admitting that no two things in nature are exactly alike the potentiality of divergence is practically limitless. The peculiarity with pigeons, however, is the wonderful and remarkable manner in which they differ and diverge from the parent stock: as if in sport or play, nature produces the carrier, the tumbler, the fantail, the pouter, the Jacobin, &c., all from the rock-pigeon—a lavish wealth of wondrous change giving us in this one species a perfect mine of observation and experiment. Who can define the limit of these divergences, or even their uses? For of what use is it to us here that some types of the tumbler-pigeon cannot fly a yard without tumbling head over heels? Therefore it follows that the theory of natural selection, failing in explaining these pigeon divergences we already see, cannot account for the potentiality of divergence yet to take place. In the few years we have been experimenting we have surely not exhausted all the mutations of pigeon form of life. It is therefore our duty to search for the rule of life which governs future changes. Darwin certainly lamentably failed to explain what he saw in pigeon variation.

The reason, I suppose, for these various divergences is, of course, to enable species, order, or genera to adapt themselves to the changing conditions of climate and surroundings in the different planets, geology showing us in this planet that many varieties of one species are born, live for a time, and die out, the species itself still going on, and existing in a slightly different form. And this divergence is not only necessary on account of the birth, growth, and death of the planet itself, during which the various climatic changes occur, but also on account of the alteration in other orders of living things upon which the particular species depends. But this

subject of dependence of one species or order upon another will be treated in a separate section later on. All I am showing in this section is the potentiality of divergence and the reason of the law. For the more one studies the vagaries of animal life the more one is convinced that it is necessary to look quite apart from this earth to understand nature's designs; and until we do this—until we thoroughly grasp the immense field of divergence—a field that means all the millions of stars we see, their different wants, and the application of nature's law of divergence to those wants—we shall never understand why matters have been so mixed that deer weep, hyenas laugh, or elephants have the sagacity of men. These things, however, again go to prove the common nature of the vital force. I may perhaps be allowed here to give a few other instances of divergence to illustrate my meaning.

There are many varieties of antelope—some forty to fifty—and many of the rhinoceros. In South Africa there are four distinct species of rhinoceros; in North Africa, one, differing from all these; whilst the large Indian rhinoceros bears but slight resemblance to any of the former. A distinct species from any is the rhinoceros of Sumatra, and another is the Java rhinoceros. So we have eight kinds, all specifically differing from one another.

Now, what use have we upon this small planet for the different varieties of this particular animal? Scarcely any. Nor do I believe they have ever been of much use in nature's workings here. But in larger planets these different varieties may be of immense service, being partly amphibious. Only, as all creatures are bound to diverge, each particular animal having in itself the power of change and adaptability to circumstances, upon the slightest change of circumstances the animal adapts itself to its new environment. This law of divergence and progressive adaptation is like the most delicately-set hair-spring, ready to expand upon the slightest change of condition; in fact, it cannot help changing. It acts upon this small planet the same as it acts upon a much larger planet. So that no type can possibly be constant for ever. It must change directly the climatic condition of the particular zone alters, or any species happens to be transplanted to a different zone. Darwin mistook the exemplification of this law as to origin of species by natural selection. The same reasoning applies to the elephant. There is the Asiatic elephant and the Indian elephant. Great differences exist between the two species. And of the Asiatic elephant there are many varieties, some with tusks pointing downwards, some curving upwards, some with short legs and large trunks, others with small trunks and long legs, for swiftness. Then there is the white elephant, but he is an albino.