The French Lieutenant's Woman by John Fowles Page B

what we are talking about; but think of
Darwin, of The Voyage of the Beagle. The Origin of Species is a
triumph of generalization, not specialization; and even if you could
prove to me that the latter would have been better for Charles the
ungifted scientist, I should still maintain the former was better for
Charles the human being. It is not that amateurs can afford to dabble
everywhere; they ought to dabble everywhere, and damn the scientific
prigs who try to shut them up in some narrow oubliette.
    Charles called himself a
Darwinist, and yet he had not really understood Darwin. But then, nor
had Darwin himself. What that genius had upset was the Linnaean Scala
Naturae, the ladder of nature, whose great keystone, as essential to
it as the divinity of Christ to theology, was nulla species nova: a
new species cannot enter the world. This principle explains the
Linnaean obsession with classifying and naming, with fossilizing the
existent. We can see it now as a foredoomed attempt to stabilize and
fix what is in reality a continuous flux, and it seems highly
appropriate that Linnaeus himself finally went mad; he knew he was in
a labyrinth, but not that it was one whose walls and passages were
eternally changing. Even Darwin never quite shook off the Swedish
fetters, and Charles can hardly be blamed for the thoughts that went
through his mind as he gazed up at the lias strata in the cliffs
above him. He knew that nulla species nova was rubbish; yet he saw in
the strata an immensely reassuring orderliness in existence. He might
perhaps have seen a very contemporary social symbolism in the way
these gray-blue ledges were crumbling; but what he did see was a kind
of edificiality of time, in which inexorable laws (therefore
beneficently divine, for who could argue that order was not the
highest human good?) very conveniently arranged themselves for the
survival of the fittest and best, exemplia gratia Charles Smithson,
this fine spring day, alone, eager and inquiring, understanding,
accepting, noting and grateful. What was lacking, of course, was the
corollary of the collapse of the ladder of nature: that if new
species can come into being, old species very often have to make way
for them. Personal extinction Charles was aware of--no Victorian
could not be. But general extinction was as absent a concept from his
mind that day as the smallest cloud from the sky above him; and even
though, when he finally resumed his stockings and gaiters and boots,
he soon held a very concrete example of it in his hand. It was a very
fine fragment of lias with ammonite impressions, exquisitely clear,
microcosms of macrocosms, whirled galaxies that Catherine-wheeled
their way across ten inches of rock. Having duly inscribed a label
with the date and place of finding, he once again hopscotched out of
science--this time, into love. He determined to give it to Ernestina
when he returned. It was pretty enough for her to like; and after
all, very soon it would come back to him, with her. Even better, the
increased weight on his back made it a labor, as well as a gift.
Duty, agreeable conformity to the epoch's current, raised its stern
head.
    And so did the awareness
that he had wandered more slowly than he meant. He unbuttoned his
coat and took out his silver half hunter. Two o'clock! He looked
sharply back then, and saw the waves lapping the foot of a point a
mile away. He was in no danger of being cut off, since he could see a
steep but safe path just ahead of him which led up the cliff to the
dense woods above. But he could not return along the shore. His
destination had indeed been this path, but he had meant to walk
quickly to it, and then up to the levels where the flint strata
emerged. As a punishment to himself for his dilatoriness he took the
path much too fast, and had to sit a minute to recover, sweating
copiously under the abominable flannel. But he heard a little stream
nearby and quenched his thirst; wetted his handkerchief and patted
his face;