In the competition for place, the struggle for its existence, said with reason to be most deadly between such species as are most nearly allied, the operations are imperceptible, and the changes are so gradual, that the diminution and filial disappearance of one species is never attributed to a corresponding increase in another more favoured species over the same region. It is not as if the regnant species had invaded and seized on the province of another, but appears rather as if they had quietly entered on the possession of an inheritance that was theirs by right. Mighty as are the results worked out by such a process, it is only by a somewhat strained metaphor that it can be called a _struggle_. But even when the war is open and declared, as between a raptorial species and its victims, the former is manifestly driven by necessity. And in this case the species preyed on are endowed with peculiar sagacity to escape its persecutions; so that the war is not one of extermination, but, as in a border war, the invader is satisfied with carrying off the weak and unwary stragglers. Thus the open, declared enmity is in reality beneficial to a species; for it is sure to cut off all such individuals as might cause its degeneration. But we can conceive no necessity for such a fatal instinct as that of the Cuckoo and Cow-bird destructive to such myriads of lives in their beginning. And inasmuch as their preservation is inimical to the species on which they are parasitical, there must also here be a struggle. But what kind of struggle? Not as in other species, where one perishes in the combat that gives greater strength to the victor, but an anomalous struggle in which one of the combatants has made his adversary turn his weapons against himself, and so seems to have an infinite advantage. It is impossible for him to suffer defeat; and yet, to follow out the metaphor, he has so wormed about and interlaced himself with his opponent that as soon as he succeeds in overcoming him he also must inevitably perish. Such a result is perhaps impossible, as there are so many causes operating to check the undue increase of any one species: consequently the struggle, unequal as it appears, must continue for ever. Thus, in whatever way we view the parasitical habit, it appears cruel, treacherous, and vicious in the highest degree. But should we attempt to mentally create a perfect parasitical instinct (that is, one that would be thoroughly efficient with the least possible prejudice to or injustice towards another species; for the preservation of the species on which the parasite is dependent is necessary to its own) by combining in imagination all known parasitical habits, eliminating every offensive quality or circumstance, and attributing such others in their place as we should think fit, our conception would probably still fall short in simplicity, beauty, and completeness of the actual instinct of _M. rufoaxillaris_.