If we once admit, as we are now bound to do, the existence of such factors as these, which, by their physiological activity and apart from any direct action of the nervous system, tend towards the acceleration of growth and consequent modification of form, we are led into wide fields of speculation by an easy and a legitimate pathway. Professor Gley carries such speculations a long, long way: for he says[181] that by these chemical influences “Toute une partie de la construction des êtres parait s’expliquer d’une façon toute mécanique. La forteresse, si longtemps inaccessible, du vitalisme est entamée. Car la notion morphogénique était, suivant le mot de Dastre[182], comme ‘le dernier réduit de la force vitale.’ ” The physiological speculations we need not discuss: but, to take a single example from morphology, we begin to understand the possibility, and to comprehend the probable meaning, of the {137} all but sudden appearance on the earth of such exaggerated and almost monstrous forms as those of the great secondary reptiles and the great tertiary mammals[183]. We begin to see that it is in order to account, not for the appearance, but for the disappearance of such forms as these that natural selection must be invoked. And we then, I think, draw near to the conclusion that what is true of these is universally true, and that the great function of natural selection is not to originate, but to remove: _donec ad interitum genus id natura redegit_[184]. The world of things living, like the world of things inanimate, grows of itself, and pursues its ceaseless course of creative evolution. It has room, wide but not unbounded, for variety of living form and structure, as these tend towards their seemingly endless, but yet strictly limited, possibilities of permutation and degree: it has room for the great and for the small, room for the weak and for the strong. Environment and circumstance do not always make a prison, wherein perforce the organism must either live or die; for the ways of life may be changed, and many a refuge found, before the sentence of unfitness is pronounced and the penalty of extermination paid. But there comes a time when “variation,” in form, dimensions, or other qualities of the organism, goes farther than is compatible with all the means at hand of health and welfare for the individual and the stock; when, under the active and creative stimulus of forces from within and from without, the active and creative energies of growth pass the bounds of physical and physiological equilibrium: and so reach the limits which, as again Lucretius tells us, natural law has set between what may and what may not be, “et quid quaeque queant per foedera naturai quid porro nequeant.” Then, at last, we are entitled to use the customary metaphor, and to see in natural selection an inexorable force, whose function {138} is not to create but to destroy,—to weed, to prune, to cut down and to cast into the fire[185].