42 
either reverts to its original, or becomes extinct. Though my 
own observations are very trifling, they bear out the broad 
facts, and confirm the generally acknowledged laws of Botany. 
With this known inclination of varieties — or, rather, with 
their known nature — it is hard to say how it were possible, 
even in the (to me) fabulous ages of the old geology, for the 
natural establishment of new species from the created few, to 
have been effected. If varieties could be converted into 
species, extended time, such as Mr. Darwin requires, seems a 
most unnecessary step in the process. A variety thrown off 
by the parent plant is a species at once, or not at all. It is 
only a temporary variety; for, when it has grown up and 
become a perfect plant, it must either die out, revert, or per- 
petuate itself. In each case there is an end of the variety. 
Disappearance, by reversion or death, does not more clearly 
extinguish the variety than if it perpetuate itself ; for in the 
second generation it is as much an established species as the 
specific type. Instead, therefore, of the elastic millions of 
years, called to the aid of the hypothesis in question — a single 
season in some instances, and only few seasons in any — is all 
the time for which nature is called upon permanently to set 
up new species from old. The fugitive character of the plant 
under observation, or its stability, seems an easy way of 
marking its rank. 
Where man interferes, in the way of improving a species or 
a variety — such as our culinary vegetables and our florist's 
flowers — he is obliged to continue by industry what he 
acquired by skill ; else would the size and succulence of his 
parsnips and his celery, and the glory of his roses and 
carnations, very soon return to what we consider the insignifi- 
cance of their originals — neither pleasing his palate nor 
delighting his eye. 
Even from a few considerations such as these it would seem 
probable that neither the organic nor the inorganic, as inde- 
pendent studies — whether in connection with chemistry, 
electricity, or geology — afford a glimpse of the origin of life ; 
nor, consequently, the true relation of the phenomena of 
nature. As far as the great question of life is at issue, all is 
there dark as a futureless grave. We must look to other 
sources for the information they are not capable of im- 
parting. 
Try history. Professor Huxley says that historically wo 
know nothing about the origin of life. On the occasion when 
this observation was made, it was in allusion to the history of 
the rocks. But the general tenor of the lectures in which it 
occurs is tending toward an application to all history. 
