as deduced from the study of Hieracium, that
this is the common mode in which species arise. But I still continue to
doubt much on this head, and cling to the belief expressed in the first
edition of the "Origin," that protean or polymorphic species are those
which are now varying in such a manner that the variations are neither
advantageous nor disadvantageous. I am glad to hear of the Brunswick
deposit, as I feel sure that the careful study of such cases is highly
important. I hope that the Smithsonian Institution will publish your
memoir.

LETTER 258. TO A. DE CANDOLLE. Down, January 18th [1873].

It was very good of you to give up so much of your time to write to me
your last interesting letter. The evidence seems good about the tameness
of the alpine butterflies, and the fact seems to me very surprising, for
each butterfly can hardly have acquired its experience during its own
short life. Will you be so good as to thank M. Humbert for his note,
which I have been glad to read. I formerly received from a man, not
a naturalist, staying at Cannes a similar account, but doubted about
believing it. The case, however, does not answer my query--viz., whether
butterflies are attracted by bright colours, independently of the
supposed presence of nectar?

I must own that I have great difficulty in believing that any temporary
condition of the parents can affect the offspring. If it last long
enough to affect the health or structure of the parents, I can quite
believe the offspring would be modified. But how mysterious a subject
is that of generation! Although my hypothesis of pangenesis has been
reviled on all sides, yet I must still look at generation under this
point of view; and it makes me very averse to believe in an emotion
having any effect on the offspring. Allow me to add one word about
blushing and shyness: I intended only to say the habit was primordially
acquired by attention to the face, and not that each shy man now
attended to his personal appearance.

LETTER 259. TO J.D. HOOKER. Down, June 28th, 1873.

I write a line to wish you good-bye, as I hear you are off on Wednesday,
and to thank you for the Dionoea, but I cannot make the little creature
grow well. I have this day read Bentham's last address, and must
express my admiration of it. (259/1. Presidential address to the Linnean
Society, read May 24th, 1873.) Perhaps I ought not to do so, as he
fairly crushes me with honour.

I am delighted to see