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 true
species will cease. Systematists will have only
to decide (not that this will be easy) whether any
form be sufficiently constant and distinct from other
forms, to be capable of definition; and if definable,
whether the differences be sufficiently important
to deserve a specific name. This latter point
will become a far more essential consideration than
it is at present; for differences, however slight,
between any two forms, if not blended by intermediate
gradations, are looked at by most naturalists as sufficient
to raise both forms to the rank of species. Hereafter
we shall be compelled to acknowledge that the only
distinction between species and well-marked varieties
is, that the latter are known, or believed, to be
connected at the present day by intermediate gradations,
whereas species were formerly thus connected.
Hence, without quite rejecting the consideration of
the present existence of intermediate gradations between
any two forms, we shall be led to weigh more carefully
and to value higher the actual amount of difference
between them. It is quite possible that forms
now generally acknowledged to be merely varieties
may hereafter be thought worthy of specific names,
as with the primrose and cowslip; and in this case
scientific and common language will come into accordance.
In short, we shall have to treat species in the same
manner as those naturalists treat genera, who admit
that genera are merely artificial combinations made
for convenience. This may not be a cheering prospect;
but we shall at least be freed from the vain search
for the undiscovered and undiscoverable essence of
the term species.
The other and more general departments of natural
history will rise greatly in interest. The terms
used by naturalists of affinity, relationship, community
of type, paternity, morphology, adaptive characters,
rudimentary and aborted organs, etc., will cease
to be metaphorical, and will have a plain signification.
When we no longer look at an organic being as a savage
looks at a ship, as at something wholly beyond his
comprehension; when we regard every production of
nature as one which has had a history; when we contemplate
every complex structure and instinct as the summing
up of many contrivances, each useful to the possessor,
nearly in the same way as when we look at any great
mechanical invention as the summing up of the labour,
the experience, the reason, and even the blunders
of numerous workmen; when we thus view each organic
being, how far more interesting, I speak from experience,
will the study of natural history become!