he _status_ of a
botanist or a zoologist was estimated by the number of specific names,
natural habitats, &c., which he could retain in his memory, rather than
by any evidences which he might give of intellectual powers in the way
of constructive thought. At the most these powers might legitimately
exercise themselves only in the direction of taxonomic work; and if a
Hales, a Haller, or a Hunter obtained any brilliant results in the way
of observation and experiment, their merit was taken to consist in the
discovery of facts _per se_: not in any endeavours they might make in
the way of combining their facts under general principles. Even as late
in the day as Cuvier this ideal was upheld as the strictly legitimate
one for a naturalist to follow; and although Cuvier himself was far from
being always loyal to it, he leaves no doubt regarding the estimate in
which he held the still greater deviations of his colleagues, St.
Hilaire and Lamarck.

Now, these traditional notions touching the severance between the facts
of natural history and the philosophy of it, continued more or less to
dominate the minds of naturalists until the publication of the _Origin
of Species_, in 1859. Then it was that an epoch was marked in this
respect, as in so many other respects where natural history is
concerned. For, looking to the enormous results which followed from a
deliberate disregard of such traditional canons by Darwin, it has long
since become impossible for naturalists, even of the strictest sect, not
to perceive that their previous bondage to the law of a mere ritual has
been for ever superseded by what verily deserves to be regarded as a new
dispensation. Yet it cannot be said, or even so much as suspected, that
Darwin's method in any way resembled that of pre-scientific days, the
revolt against which led to the straight-laced--and for a long time most
salutary--conceptions of method that we have just been noticing. Where,
then, is the difference? To me it seems that the difference is as
follows; and, if so, that not the least of our many obligations to
Darwin as the great organizer of biological science arises from his
having clearly displayed the true principle which ought to govern
biological research.

To begin with, he nowhere loses sight of the primary distinction between
fact and theory; so that, thus far, he loyally follows the spirit of
revolt against subjective methods. But, while always holding this
distinction clearl