The Foundations of the Origin of Species

The most favourable conditions for variation seem to be when organic beings are bred for many generations under domestication{186}: one may infer this from the simple fact of the vast number of races and breeds of almost every plant and animal, which has long been domesticated. Under certain conditions organic beings even during their individual lives become slightly altered from their usual form, size, or other characters: and many of the peculiarities thus acquired are transmitted to their offspring.

Thus in animals, the size and vigour of body, fatness, period of maturity, habits of body or consensual movements, habits of mind and temper, are modified or acquired during the life of the individual{187}, and become inherited. There is reason to believe that when long exercise has given to certain muscles great development, or disuse has lessened them, that such development is also inherited. Food and climate will occasionally produce changes in the colour and texture of the external coverings of animals; and certain unknown conditions affect the horns of cattle in parts of Abyssinia; but whether these peculiarities, thus acquired during individual lives, have been inherited, I do not know. It appears certain that malconformation and lameness in horses, produced by too much work on hard roads,-that affections of the eyes in this animal probably caused by bad ventilation,-that tendencies towards many diseases in man, such as gout, caused by the course of life and ultimately producing changes of structure, and that many other diseases produced by unknown agencies, such as goitre, and the idiotcy resulting from it, all become hereditary.

It is very doubtful whether the flowers and leaf-buds, annually produced from the same bulb, root, or tree, can properly be considered as parts of the same individual, though in some respects they certainly seem to be so. If they are parts of an individual, plants also are subject to considerable changes during their individual lives. Most florist-flowers if neglected degenerate, that is, they lose some of their characters; so common is this, that trueness is often stated, as greatly enhancing the value of a variety{188}: tulips break their colours only after some years' culture; some plants become double and others single, by neglect or care: these characters can be transmitted by cuttings or grafts, and in some cases by true or seminal propagation. Occasionally a single bud on a plant assumes at once a new and widely different character: thus it is certain that nectarines have been produced on peach trees and moss roses on provence roses; white currants on red currant bushes; flowers of a different colour from that of the stock, in Chrysanthemums, Dahlias, sweet-williams, Azaleas, &c., &c.; variegated leaf-buds on many trees, and other similar cases. These new characters appearing in single buds, can, like those lesser changes affecting the whole plant, be multiplied not only by cuttings and such means, but often likewise by true seminal generation.

The changes thus appearing during the lives of individual animals and plants are extremely rare compared with those which are congenital or which appear soon after birth. Slight differences thus arising are infinitely numerous: the proportions and form of every part of the frame, inside and outside, appear to vary in very slight degrees: anatomists dispute what is the "beau ideal" of the bones, the liver and kidneys, like painters do of the proportions of the face: the proverbial expression that no two animals or plants are born absolutely alike, is much truer when applied to those under domestication, than to those in a state of nature{189}. Besides these slight differences, single individuals are occasionally born considerably unlike in certain parts or in their whole structure to their parents: these are called by horticulturists and breeders "sports"; and are not uncommon except when very strongly marked. Such sports are known in some cases to have been parents of some of our domestic races; and such probably have been the parents of many other races, especially of those which in some senses may be called hereditary monsters; for instance where there is an additional limb, or where all the limbs are stunted (as in the Ancon sheep), or where a part is wanting, as in rumpless fowls and tailless dogs or cats{190}. The effects of external conditions on the size, colour and form, which can rarely and obscurely be detected during one individual life, become apparent after several generations: the slight differences, often hardly describable, which characterize the stock of different countries, and even of districts in the same country, seem to be due to such continued action.

On the hereditary tendency.

A volume might be filled with facts showing what a strong tendency there is to inheritance, in almost every case of the most trifling, as well as of the most remarkable congenital peculiarities{191}. The term congenital peculiarity, I may remark, is a loose expression and can only mean a peculiarity apparent when the part affected is nearly or fully developed: in the Second Part, I shall have to discuss at what period of the embryonic life connatal peculiarities probably first appear; and I shall then be able to show from some evidence, that at whatever period of life a new peculiarity first appears, it tends hereditarily to appear at a corresponding period{192}. Numerous though slight changes, slowly supervening in animals during mature life (often, though by no means always, taking the form of disease), are, as stated in the first paragraphs, very often hereditary. In plants, again, the buds which assume a different character from their stock likewise tend to transmit their new peculiarities. There is not sufficient reason to believe that either mutilations{193} or changes of form produced by mechanical pressure, even if continued for hundreds of generations, or that any changes of structure quickly produced by disease, are inherited; it would appear as if the tissue of the part affected must slowly and freely grow into the new form, in order to be inheritable. There is a very great difference in the hereditary tendency of different peculiarities, and of the same peculiarity, in different individuals and species; thus twenty thousand seeds of the weeping ash have been sown and not one come up true;-out of seventeen seeds of the weeping yew, nearly all came up true. The ill-formed and almost monstrous "Niata" cattle of S. America and Ancon sheep, both when bred together and when crossed with other breeds, seem to transmit their peculiarities to their offspring as truly as the ordinary breeds. I can throw no light on these differences in the power of hereditary transmission. Breeders believe, and apparently with good cause, that a peculiarity generally becomes more firmly implanted after having passed through several generations; that is if one offspring out of twenty inherits a peculiarity from its parents, then its descendants will tend to transmit this peculiarity to a larger proportion than one in twenty; and so on in succeeding generations. I have said nothing about mental peculiarities being inheritable for I reserve this subject for a separate chapter.

Causes of Variation.

Attention must here be drawn to an important distinction in the first origin or appearance of varieties: when we see an animal highly kept producing offspring with an hereditary tendency to early maturity and fatness; when we see the wild-duck and Australian dog always becoming, when bred for one or a few generations in confinement, mottled in their colours; when we see people living in certain districts or circumstances becoming subject to an hereditary taint to certain organic diseases, as consumption or plica polonica,-we naturally attribute such changes to the direct effect of known or unknown agencies acting for one or more generations on the parents. It is probable that a multitude of peculiarities may be thus directly caused by unknown external agencies. But in breeds, characterized by an extra limb or claw, as in certain fowls and dogs; by an extra joint in the vertebr?; by the loss of a part, as the tail; by the substitution of a tuft of feathers for a comb in certain poultry; and in a multitude of other cases, we can hardly attribute these peculiarities directly to external influences, but indirectly to the laws of embryonic growth and of reproduction. When we see a multitude of varieties (as has often been the case, where a cross has been carefully guarded against) produced from seeds matured in the very same capsule{194}, with the male and female principle nourished from the same roots and necessarily exposed to the same external influences; we cannot believe that the endless slight differences between seedling varieties thus produced, can be the effect of any corresponding difference in their exposure. We are led (as Müller has remarked) to the same conclusion, when we see in the same litter, produced by the same act of conception, animals considerably different.

As variation to the degree here alluded to has been observed only in organic beings under domestication, and in plants amongst those most highly and long cultivated, we must attribute, in such cases, the varieties (although the difference between each variety cannot possibly be attributed to any corresponding difference of exposure in the parents) to the indirect effects of domestication on the action of the reproductive system{195}. It would appear as if the reproductive powers failed in their ordinary function of producing new organic beings closely like their parents; and as if the entire organization of the embryo, under domestication, became in a slight degree plastic{196}. We shall hereafter have occasion to show, that in organic beings, a considerable change from the natural conditions of life, affects, independently of their general state of health, in another and remarkable manner the reproductive system. I may add, judging from the vast number of new varieties of plants which have been produced in the same districts and under nearly the same routine of culture, that probably the indirect effects of domestication in making the organization plastic, is a much more efficient source of variation than any direct effect which external causes may have on the colour, texture, or form of each part. In the few instances in which, as in the Dahlia{197}, the course of variation has been recorded, it appears that domestication produces little effect for several generations in rendering the organization plastic; but afterwards, as if by an accumulated effect, the original character of the species suddenly gives way or breaks.

On Selection.

We have hitherto only referred to the first appearance in individuals of new peculiarities; but to make a race or breed, something more is generally{198} requisite than such peculiarities (except in the case of the peculiarities being the direct effect of constantly surrounding conditions) should be inheritable,-namely the principle of selection, implying separation. Even in the rare instances of sports, with the hereditary tendency very strongly implanted, crossing must be prevented with other breeds, or if not prevented the best characterized of the half-bred offspring must be carefully selected. Where the external conditions are constantly tending to give some character, a race possessing this character will be formed with far greater ease by selecting and breeding together the individuals most affected. In the case of the endless slight variations produced by the indirect effects of domestication on the action of the reproductive system, selection is indispensable to form races; and when carefully applied, wonderfully numerous and diverse races can be formed. Selection, though so simple in theory, is and has been important to a degree which can hardly be overrated. It requires extreme skill, the results of long practice, in detecting the slightest difference in the forms of animals, and it implies some distinct object in view; with these requisites and patience, the breeder has simply to watch for every the smallest approach to the desired end, to select such individuals and pair them with the most suitable forms, and so continue with succeeding generations. In most cases careful selection and the prevention of accidental crosses will be necessary for several generations, for in new breeds there is a strong tendency to vary and especially to revert to ancestral forms: but in every succeeding generation less care will be requisite for the breed will become truer; until ultimately only an occasional individual will require to be separated or destroyed. Horticulturalists in raising seeds regularly practise this, and call it "roguing," or destroying the "rogues" or false varieties. There is another and less efficient means of selection amongst animals: namely repeatedly procuring males with some desirable qualities, and allowing them and their offspring to breed freely together; and this in the course of time will affect the whole lot. These principles of selection have been methodically followed for scarcely a century; but their high importance is shown by the practical results, and is admitted in the writings of the most celebrated agriculturalists and horticulturalists;-I need only name Anderson, Marshall, Bakewell, Coke, Western, Sebright and Knight.

Even in well-established breeds the individuals of which to an unpractised eye would appear absolutely similar, which would give, it might have been thought, no scope to selection, the whole appearance of the animal has been changed in a few years (as in the case of Lord Western's sheep), so that practised agriculturalists could scarcely credit that a change had not been effected by a cross with other breeds. Breeders both of plants and animals frequently give their means of selection greater scope, by crossing different breeds and selecting the offspring; but we shall have to recur to this subject again.

The external conditions will doubtless influence and modify the results of the most careful selection; it has been found impossible to prevent certain breeds of cattle from degenerating on mountain pastures; it would probably be impossible to keep the plumage of the wild-duck in the domesticated race; in certain soils, no care has been sufficient to raise cauliflower seed true to its character; and so in many other cases. But with patience it is wonderful what man has effected. He has selected and therefore in one sense made one breed of horses to race and another to pull; he has made sheep with fleeces good for carpets and other sheep good for broadcloth; he has, in the same sense, made one dog to find game and give him notice when found, and another dog to fetch him the game when killed; he has made by selection the fat to lie mixed with the meat in one breed and in another to accumulate in the bowels for the tallow-chandler{199}; he has made the legs of one breed of pigeons long, and the beak of another so short, that it can hardly feed itself; he has previously determined how the feathers on a bird's body shall be coloured, and how the petals of many flowers shall be streaked or fringed, and has given prizes for complete success;-by selection, he has made the leaves of one variety and the flower-buds of another variety of the cabbage good to eat, at different seasons of the year; and thus has he acted on endless varieties. I do not wish to affirm that the long-and short-wooled sheep, or that the pointer and retriever, or that the cabbage and cauliflower have certainly descended from one and the same aboriginal wild stock; if they have not so descended, though it lessens what man has effected, a large result must be left unquestioned.

In saying as I have done that man makes a breed, let it not be confounded with saying that man makes the individuals, which are given by nature with certain desirable qualities; man only adds together and makes a permanent gift of nature's bounties. In several cases, indeed, for instance in the "Ancon" sheep, valuable from not getting over fences, and in the turnspit dog, man has probably only prevented crossing; but in many cases we positively know that he has gone on selecting, and taking advantage of successive small variations.

Selection{200} has been methodically followed, as I have said, for barely a century; but it cannot be doubted that occasionally it has been practised from the remotest ages, in those animals completely under the dominion of man. In the earliest chapters of the Bible there are rules given for influencing the colours of breeds, and black and white sheep are spoken of as separated. In the time of Pliny the barbarians of Europe and Asia endeavoured by cross-breeding with a wild stock to improve the races of their dogs and horses. The savages of Guyana now do so with their dogs: such care shows at least that the characters of individual animals were attended to. In the rudest times of English history, there were laws to prevent the exportation of fine animals of established breeds, and in the case of horses, in Henry VIII's time, laws for the destruction of all horses under a certain size. In one of the oldest numbers of the Phil. Transactions, there are rules for selecting and improving the breeds of sheep. Sir H. Bunbury, in 1660, has given rules for selecting the finest seedling plants, with as much precision as the best recent horticulturalist could. Even in the most savage and rude nations, in the wars and famines which so frequently occur, the most useful of their animals would be preserved: the value set upon animals by savages is shown by the inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego devouring their old women before their dogs, which as they asserted are useful in otter-hunting{201}: who can doubt but that in every case of famine and war, the best otter-hunters would be preserved, and therefore in fact selected for breeding. As the offspring so obviously take after their parents, and as we have seen that savages take pains in crossing their dogs and horses with wild stocks, we may even conclude as probable that they would sometimes pair the most useful of their animals and keep their offspring separate. As different races of men require and admire different qualities in their domesticated animals, each would thus slowly, though unconsciously, be selecting a different breed. As Pallas has remarked, who can doubt but that the ancient Russian would esteem and endeavour to preserve those sheep in his flocks which had the thickest coats. This kind of insensible selection by which new breeds are not selected and kept separate, but a peculiar character is slowly given to the whole mass of the breed, by often saving the life of animals with certain characteristics, we may feel nearly sure, from what we see has been done by the more direct method of separate selection within the last 50 years in England, would in the course of some thousand years produce a marked effect.

Crossing Breeds.

When once two or more races are formed, or if more than one race, or species fertile inter se, originally existed in a wild state, their crossing becomes a most copious source of new races{202}. When two well-marked races are crossed the offspring in the first generation take more or less after either parent or are quite intermediate between them, or rarely assume characters in some degree new. In the second and several succeeding generations, the offspring are generally found to vary exceedingly, one compared with another, and many revert nearly to their ancestral forms. This greater variability in succeeding generations seems analogous to the breaking or variability of organic beings after having been bred for some generations under domestication{203}. So marked is this variability in cross-bred descendants, that Pallas and some other naturalists have supposed that all variation is due to an original cross; but I conceive that the history of the potato, Dahlia, Scotch Rose, the guinea-pig, and of many trees in this country, where only one species of the genus exists, clearly shows that a species may vary where there can have been no crossing. Owing to this variability and tendency to reversion in cross-bred beings, much careful selection is requisite to make intermediate or new permanent races: nevertheless crossing has been a most powerful engine, especially with plants, where means of propagation exist by which the cross-bred varieties can be secured without incurring the risk of fresh variation from seminal propagation: with animals the most skilful agriculturalists now greatly prefer careful selection from a well-established breed, rather than from uncertain cross-bred stocks.

Although intermediate and new races may be formed by the mingling of others, yet if the two races are allowed to mingle quite freely, so that none of either parent race remain pure, then, especially if the parent races are not widely different, they will slowly blend together, and the two races will be destroyed, and one mongrel race left in its place. This will of course happen in a shorter time, if one of the parent races exists in greater number than the other. We see the effect of this mingling, in the manner in which the aboriginal breeds of dogs and pigs in the Oceanic Islands and the many breeds of our domestic animals introduced into S. America, have all been lost and absorbed in a mongrel race. It is probably owing to the freedom of crossing, that, in uncivilised countries, where inclosures do not exist, we seldom meet with more than one race of a species: it is only in enclosed countries, where the inhabitants do not migrate, and have conveniences for separating the several kinds of domestic animals, that we meet with a multitude of races. Even in civilised countries, want of care for a few years has been found to destroy the good results of far longer periods of selection and separation.

This power of crossing will affect the races of all terrestrial animals; for all terrestrial animals require for their reproduction the union of two individuals. Amongst plants, races will not cross and blend together with so much freedom as in terrestrial animals; but this crossing takes place through various curious contrivances to a surprising extent. In fact such contrivances exist in so very many hermaphrodite flowers by which an occasional cross may take place, that I cannot avoid suspecting (with Mr Knight) that the reproductive action requires, at intervals, the concurrence of distinct individuals{204}. Most breeders of plants and animals are firmly convinced that benefit is derived from an occasional cross, not with another race, but with another family of the same race; and that, on the other hand, injurious consequences follow from long-continued close interbreeding in the same family. Of marine animals, many more, than was till lately believed, have their sexes on separate individuals; and where they are hermaphrodite, there seems very generally to be means through the water of one individual occasionally impregnating another: if individual animals can singly propagate themselves for perpetuity, it is unaccountable that no terrestrial animal, where the means of observation are more obvious, should be in this predicament of singly perpetuating its kind. I conclude, then, that races of most animals and plants, when unconfined in the same country, would tend to blend together.

Whether our domestic races have descended from one or more wild stocks.

Several naturalists, of whom Pallas{205} regarding animals, and Humboldt regarding certain plants, were the first, believe that the breeds of many of our domestic animals such as of the horse, pig, dog, sheep, pigeon, and poultry, and of our plants have descended from more than one aboriginal form. They leave it doubtful, whether such forms are to be considered wild races, or true species, whose offspring are fertile when crossed inter se. The main arguments for this view consist, firstly, of the great difference between such breeds, as the Race-and Cart-Horse, or the Greyhound and Bull-dog, and of our ignorance of the steps or stages through which these could have passed from a common parent; and secondly that in the most ancient historical periods, breeds resembling some of those at present most different, existed in different countries. The wolves of N. America and of Siberia are thought to be different species; and it has been remarked that the dogs belonging to the savages in these two countries resemble the wolves of the same country; and therefore that they have probably descended from two different wild stocks. In the same manner, these naturalists believe that the horse of Arabia and of Europe have probably descended from two wild stocks both apparently now extinct. I do not think the assumed fertility of these wild stocks any very great difficulty on this view; for although in animals the offspring of most cross-bred species are infertile, it is not always remembered that the experiment is very seldom fairly tried, except when two near species both breed freely (which does not readily happen, as we shall hereafter see) when under the dominion of man. Moreover in the case of the China{206} and common goose, the canary and siskin, the hybrids breed freely; in other cases the offspring from hybrids crossed with either pure parent are fertile, as is practically taken advantage of with the yak and cow; as far as the analogy of plants serves, it is impossible to deny that some species are quite fertile inter se; but to this subject we shall recur.

On the other hand, the upholders of the view that the several breeds of dogs, horses, &c., &c., have descended each from one stock, may aver that their view removes all difficulty about fertility, and that the main argument from the high antiquity of different breeds, somewhat similar to the present breeds, is worth little without knowing the date of the domestication of such animals, which is far from being the case. They may also with more weight aver that, knowing that organic beings under domestication do vary in some degree, the argument from the great difference between certain breeds is worth nothing, without we know the limits of variation during a long course of time, which is far from the case. They may argue that almost every county in England, and in many districts of other countries, for instance in India, there are slightly different breeds of the domestic animals; and that it is opposed to all that we know of the distribution of wild animals to suppose that these have descended from so many different wild races or species: if so, they may argue, is it not probable that countries quite separate and exposed to different climates would have breeds not slightly, but considerably, different? Taking the most favourable case, on both sides, namely that of the dog; they might urge that such breeds as the bull-dog and turnspit have been reared by man, from the ascertained fact that strictly analogous breeds (namely the Niata ox and Ancon sheep) in other quadrupeds have thus originated. Again they may say, seeing what training and careful selection has effected for the greyhound, and seeing how absolutely unfit the Italian greyhound is to maintain itself in a state of nature, is it not probable that at least all greyhounds,-from the rough deerhound, the smooth Persian, the common English, to the Italian,-have descended from one stock{207}? If so, is it so improbable that the deerhound and long-legged shepherd dog have so descended? If we admit this, and give up the bull-dog, we can hardly dispute the probable common descent of the other breeds.

The evidence is so conjectural and balanced on both sides that at present I conceive that no one can decide: for my own part, I lean to the probability of most of our domestic animals having descended from more than one wild stock; though from the arguments last advanced and from reflecting on the slow though inevitable effect of different races of mankind, under different circumstances, saving the lives of and therefore selecting the individuals most useful to them, I cannot doubt but that one class of naturalists have much overrated the probable number of the aboriginal wild stocks. As far as we admit the difference of our races ?to be? due to the differences of their original stocks, so much must we give up of the amount of variation produced under domestication. But this appears to me unimportant, for we certainly know in some few cases, for instance in the Dahlia, and potato, and rabbit, that a great number of varieties have proceeded from one stock; and, in many of our domestic races, we know that man, by slowly selecting and by taking advantage of sudden sports, has considerably modified old races and produced new ones. Whether we consider our races as the descendants of one or several wild stocks, we are in far the greater number of cases equally ignorant what these stocks were.

Limits to Variation in degree and kind.

Man's power in making races deends, in the first instance, on the stock on which he works being variable; but his labours are modified and limited, as we have seen, by the direct effects of the external conditions,-by the deficient or imperfect hereditariness of new peculiarities,-and by the tendency to continual variation and especially to reversion to ancestral forms. If the stock is not variable under domestication, of course he can do nothing; and it appears that species differ considerably in this tendency to variation, in the same way as even sub-varieties from the same variety differ greatly in this respect, and transmit to their offspring this difference in tendency. Whether the absence of a tendency to vary is an unalterable quality in certain species, or depends on some deficient condition of the particular state of domestication to which they are exposed, there is no evidence. When the organization is rendered variable, or plastic, as I have expressed it, under domestication, different parts of the frame vary more or less in different species: thus in the breeds of cattle it has been remarked that the horns are the most constant or least variable character, for these often remain constant, whilst the colour, size, proportions of the body, tendency to fatten &c., vary; in sheep, I believe, the horns are much more variable. As a general rule the less important parts of the organization seem to vary most, but I think there is sufficient evidence that every part occasionally varies in a slight degree. Even when man has the primary requisite variability he is necessarily checked by the health and life of the stock he is working on: thus he has already made pigeons with such small beaks that they can hardly eat and will not rear their own young; he has made families of sheep with so strong a tendency to early maturity and to fatten, that in certain pastures they cannot live from their extreme liability to inflammation; he has made (i.e. selected) sub-varieties of plants with a tendency to such early growth that they are frequently killed by the spring frosts; he has made a breed of cows having calves with such large hinder quarters that they are born with great difficulty, often to the death of their mothers{208}; the breeders were compelled to remedy this by the selection of a breeding stock with smaller hinder quarters; in such a case, however, it is possible by long patience and great loss, a remedy might have been found in selecting cows capable of giving birth to calves with large hinder quarters, for in human kind there ?are? no doubt hereditary bad and good confinements. Besides the limits already specified, there can be little doubt that the variation of different parts of the frame are connected together by many laws{209}: thus the two sides of the body, in health and disease, seem almost always to vary together: it has been asserted by breeders that if the head is much elongated, the bones of the extremities will likewise be so; in seedling-apples large leaves and fruit generally go together, and serve the horticulturalist as some guide in his selection; we can here see the reason, as the fruit is only a metamorphosed leaf. In animals the teeth and hair seem connected, for the hairless Chinese dog is almost toothless. Breeders believe that one part of the frame or function being increased causes other parts to decrease: they dislike great horns and great bones as so much flesh lost; in hornless breeds of cattle certain bones of the head become more developed: it is said that fat accumulating in one part checks its accumulation in another, and likewise checks the action of the udder. The whole organization is so connected that it is probable there are many conditions determining the variation of each part, and causing other parts to vary with it; and man in making new races must be limited and ruled by all such laws.

In what consists Domestication.

In this chapter we have treated of variation under domestication, and it now remains to consider in what does this power of domestication consist{210}, a subject of considerable difficulty. Observing that organic beings of almost every class, in all climates, countries, and times, have varied when long bred under domestication, we must conclude that the influence is of some very general nature{211}. Mr Knight alone, as far as I know, has tried to define it; he believes it consists of an excess of food, together with transport to a more genial climate, or protection from its severities. I think we cannot admit this latter proposition, for we know how many vegetable products, aborigines of this country, here vary, when cultivated without any protection from the weather; and some of our variable trees, as apricots, peaches, have undoubtedly been derived from a more genial climate. There appears to be much more truth in the doctrine of excess of food being the cause, though I much doubt whether this is the sole cause, although it may well be requisite for the kind of variation desired by man, namely increase of size and vigour. No doubt horticulturalists, when they wish to raise new seedlings, often pluck off all the flower-buds, except a few, or remove the whole during one season, so that a great stock of nutriment may be thrown into the flowers which are to seed. When plants are transported from high-lands, forests, marshes, heaths, into our gardens and greenhouses, there must be a considerable change of food, but it would be hard to prove that there was in every case an excess of the kind proper to the plant. If it be an excess of food, compared with that which the being obtained in its natural state{212}, the effects continue for an improbably long time; during how many ages has wheat been cultivated, and cattle and sheep reclaimed, and we cannot suppose their amount of food has gone on increasing, nevertheless these are amongst the most variable of our domestic productions. It has been remarked (Marshall) that some of the most highly kept breeds of sheep and cattle are truer or less variable than the straggling animals of the poor, which subsist on commons, and pick up a bare subsistence{213}. In the case of forest-trees raised in nurseries, which vary more than the same trees do in their aboriginal forests, the cause would seem simply to lie in their not having to struggle against other trees and weeds, which in their natural state doubtless would limit the conditions of their existence. It appears to me that the power of domestication resolves itself into the accumulated effects of a change of all or some of the natural conditions of the life of the species, often associated with excess of food. These conditions moreover, I may add, can seldom remain, owing to the mutability of the affairs, habits, migrations, and knowledge of man, for very long periods the same. I am the more inclined to come to this conclusion from finding, as we shall hereafter show, that changes of the natural conditions of existence seem peculiarly to affect the action of the reproductive system{214}. As we see that hybrids and mongrels, after the first generation, are apt to vary much, we may at least conclude that variability does not altogether depend on excess of food.

After these views, it may be asked how it comes that certain animals and plants, which have been domesticated for a considerable length of time, and transported from very different conditions of existence, have not varied much, or scarcely at all; for instance, the ass, peacock, guinea-fowl, asparagus, Jerusalem artichoke{215}. I have already said that probably different species, like different sub-varieties, possess different degrees of tendency to vary; but I am inclined to attribute in these cases the want of numerous races less to want of variability than to selection not having been practised on them. No one will take the pains to select without some corresponding object, either of use or amusement; the individuals raised must be tolerably numerous, and not so precious, but that he may freely destroy those not answering to his wishes. If guinea-fowls or peacocks{216} became "fancy" birds, I cannot doubt that after some generations several breeds would be raised. Asses have not been worked on from mere neglect; but they differ in some degree in different countries. The insensible selection, due to different races of mankind preserving those individuals most useful to them in their different circumstances, will apply only to the oldest and most widely domesticated animals. In the case of plants, we must put entirely out of the case those exclusively (or almost so) propagated by cuttings, layers or tubers, such as the Jerusalem artichoke and laurel; and if we put on one side plants of little ornament or use, and those which are used at so early a period of their growth that no especial characters signify, as asparagus{217} and seakale, I can think of none long cultivated which have not varied. In no case ought we to expect to find as much variation in a race when it alone has been formed, as when several have been formed, for their crossing and recrossing will greatly increase their variability.

Summary of first Chapter.

To sum up this chapter. Races are made under domestication: 1st, by the direct effects of the external conditions to which the species is exposed: 2nd, by the indirect effects of the exposure to new conditions, often aided by excess of food, rendering the organization plastic, and by man's selecting and separately breeding certain individuals, or introducing to his stock selected males, or often preserving with care the life of the individuals best adapted to his purposes: 3rd, by crossing and recrossing races already made, and selecting their offspring. After some generations man may relax his care in selection: for the tendency to vary and to revert to ancestral forms will decrease, so that he will have only occasionally to remove or destroy one of the yearly offspring which departs from its type. Ultimately, with a large stock, the effects of free crossing would keep, even without this care, his breed true. By these means man can produce infinitely numerous races, curiously adapted to ends, both most important and most frivolous; at the same time that the effects of the surrounding conditions, the laws of inheritance, of growth, and of variation, will modify and limit his labours.

* * *

Having treated of variation under domestication, we now come to it in a state of nature.

Most organic beings in a state of nature vary exceedingly little{218}: I put out of the case variations (as stunted plants &c., and sea-shells in brackish water{219}) which are directly the effect of external agencies and which we do not know are in the breed{220}, or are hereditary. The amount of hereditary variation is very difficult to ascertain, because naturalists (partly from the want of knowledge, and partly from the inherent difficulty of the subject) do not all agree whether certain forms are species or races{221}. Some strongly marked races of plants, comparable with the decided sports of horticulturalists, undoubtedly exist in a state of nature, as is actually known by experiment, for instance in the primrose and cowslip{222}, in two so-called species of dandelion, in two of foxglove{223}, and I believe in some pines. Lamarck has observed that, as long as we confine our attention to one limited country, there is seldom much difficulty in deciding what forms to call species and what varieties; and that it is when collections flow in from all parts of the world that naturalists often feel at a loss to decide the limit of variation. Undoubtedly so it is, yet amongst British plants (and I may add land shells), which are probably better known than any in the world, the best naturalists differ very greatly in the relative proportions of what they call species and what varieties. In many genera of insects, and shells, and plants, it seems almost hopeless to establish which are which. In the higher classes there are less doubts; though we find considerable difficulty in ascertaining what deserve to be called species amongst foxes and wolves, and in some birds, for instance in the case of the white barn-owl. When specimens are brought from different parts of the world, how often do naturalists dispute this same question, as I found with respect to the birds brought from the Galapagos islands. Yarrell has remarked that the individuals of the same undoubted species of birds, from Europe and N. America, usually present slight, indefinable though perceptible differences. The recognition indeed of one animal by another of its kind seems to imply some difference. The disposition of wild animals undoubtedly differs. The variation, such as it is, chiefly affects the same parts in wild organisms as in domestic breeds; for instance, the size, colour, and the external and less important parts. In many species the variability of certain organs or qualities is even stated as one of the specific characters: thus, in plants, colour, size, hairiness, the number of the stamens and pistils, and even their presence, the form of the leaves; the size and form of the mandibles of the males of some insects; the length and curvature of the beak in some birds (as in Opetiorynchus) are variable characters in some species and quite fixed in others. I do not perceive that any just distinction can be drawn between this recognised variability of certain parts in many species and the more general variability of the whole frame in domestic races.

Although the amount of variation be exceedingly small in most organic beings in a state of nature, and probably quite wanting (as far as our senses serve) in the majority of cases; yet considering how many animals and plants, taken by mankind from different quarters of the world for the most diverse purposes, have varied under domestication in every country and in every age, I think we may safely conclude that all organic beings with few exceptions, if capable of being domesticated and bred for long periods, would vary. Domestication seems to resolve itself into a change from the natural conditions of the species [generally perhaps including an increase of food]; if this be so, organisms in a state of nature must occasionally, in the course of ages, be exposed to analogous influences; for geology clearly shows that many places must, in the course of time, become exposed to the widest range of climatic and other influences; and if such places be isolated, so that new and better adapted organic beings cannot freely emigrate, the old inhabitants will be exposed to new influences, probably far more varied, than man applies under the form of domestication. Although every species no doubt will soon breed up to the full number which the country will support, yet it is easy to conceive that, on an average, some species may receive an increase of food; for the times of dearth may be short, yet enough to kill, and recurrent only at long intervals. All such changes of conditions from geological causes would be exceedingly slow; what effect the slowness might have we are ignorant; under domestication it appears that the effects of change of conditions accumulate, and then break out. Whatever might be the result of these slow geological changes, we may feel sure, from the means of dissemination common in a lesser or greater degree to every organism taken conjointly with the changes of geology, which are steadily (and sometimes suddenly, as when an isthmus at last separates) in progress, that occasionally organisms must suddenly be introduced into new regions, where, if the conditions of existence are not so foreign as to cause its extermination, it will often be propagated under circumstances still more closely analogous to those of domestication; and therefore we expect will evince a tendency to vary. It appears to me quite inexplicable if this has never happened; but it can happen very rarely. Let us then suppose that an organism by some chance (which might be hardly repeated in 1000 years) arrives at a modern volcanic island in process of formation and not fully stocked with the most appropriate organisms; the new organism might readily gain a footing, although the external conditions were considerably different from its native ones. The effect of this we might expect would influence in some small degree the size, colour, nature of covering &c., and from inexplicable influences even special parts and organs of the body. But we might further (and ?this? is far more important) expect that the reproductive system would be affected, as under domesticity, and the structure of the offspring rendered in some degree plastic. Hence almost every part of the body would tend to vary from the typical form in slight degrees, and in no determinate way, and therefore without selection the free crossing of these small variations (together with the tendency to reversion to the original form) would constantly be counteracting this unsettling effect of the extraneous conditions on the reproductive system. Such, I conceive, would be the unimportant result without selection. And here I must observe that the foregoing remarks are equally applicable to that small and admitted amount of variation which has been observed in some organisms in a state of nature; as well as to the above hypothetical variation consequent on changes of condition.

Let us now suppose a Being{224} with penetration sufficient to perceive differences in the outer and innermost organization quite imperceptible to man, and with forethought extending over future centuries to watch with unerring care and select for any object the offspring of an organism produced under the foregoing circumstances; I can see no conceivable reason why he could not form a new race (or several were he to separate the stock of the original organism and work on several islands) adapted to new ends. As we assume his discrimination, and his forethought, and his steadiness of object, to be incomparably greater that those qualities in man, so we may suppose the beauty and complications of the adaptations of the new races and their differences from the original stock to be greater than in the domestic races produced by man's agency: the ground-work of his labours we may aid by supposing that the external conditions of the volcanic island, from its continued emergence and the occasional introduction of new immigrants, vary; and thus to act on the reproductive system of the organism, on which he is at work, and so keep its organization somewhat plastic. With time enough, such a Being might rationally (without some unknown law opposed him) aim at almost any result.

For instance, let this imaginary Being wish, from seeing a plant growing on the decaying matter in a forest and choked by other plants, to give it power of growing on the rotten stems of trees, he would commence selecting every seedling whose berries were in the smallest degree more attractive to tree-frequenting birds, so as to cause a proper dissemination of the seeds, and at the same time he would select those plants which had in the slightest degree more and more power of drawing nutriment from rotten wood; and he would destroy all other seedlings with less of this power. He might thus, in the course of century after century, hope to make the plant by degrees grow on rotten wood, even high up on trees, wherever birds dropped the non-digested seeds. He might then, if the organization of the plant was plastic, attempt by continued selection of chance seedlings to make it grow on less and less rotten wood, till it would grow on sound wood{225}. Supposing again, during these changes the plant failed to seed quite freely from non-impregnation, he might begin selecting seedlings with a little sweeter ?or? differently tasted honey or pollen, to tempt insects to visit the flowers regularly: having effected this, he might wish, if it profited the plant, to render abortive the stamens and pistils in different flowers, which he could do by continued selection. By such steps he might aim at making a plant as wonderfully related to other organic beings as is the mistletoe, whose existence absolutely depends on certain insects for impregnation, certain birds for transportal, and certain trees for growth. Furthermore, if the insect which had been induced regularly to visit this hypothetical plant profited much by it, our same Being might wish by selection to modify by gradual selection the insect's structure, so as to facilitate its obtaining the honey or pollen: in this manner he might adapt the insect (always presupposing its organization to be in some degree plastic) to the flower, and the impregnation of the flower to the insect; as is the case with many bees and many plants.

Seeing what blind capricious man has actually effected by selection during the few last years, and what in a ruder state he has probably effected without any systematic plan during the last few thousand years, he will be a bold person who will positively put limits to what the supposed Being could effect during whole geological periods. In accordance with the plan by which this universe seems governed by the Creator, let us consider whether there exists any secondary means in the economy of nature by which the process of selection could go on adapting, nicely and wonderfully, organisms, if in ever so small a degree plastic, to diverse ends. I believe such secondary means do exist{226}.

Natural means of Selection{227}.

De Candolle, in an eloquent passage, has declared that all nature is at war, one organism with another, or with external nature. Seeing the contented face of nature, this may at first be well doubted; but reflection will inevitably prove it is too true. The war, however, is not constant, but only recurrent in a slight degree at short periods and more severely at occasional more distant periods; and hence its effects are easily overlooked. It is the doctrine of Malthus applied in most cases with ten-fold force. As in every climate there are seasons for each of its inhabitants of greater and less abundance, so all annually breed; and the moral restraint, which in some small degree checks the increase of mankind, is entirely lost. Even slow-breeding mankind has doubled in 25 years{228}, and if he could increase his food with greater ease, he would double in less time. But for animals, without artificial means, on an average the amount of food for each species must be constant; whereas the increase of all organisms tends to be geometrical, and in a vast majority of cases at an enormous ratio. Suppose in a certain spot there are eight pairs of [robins] birds, and that only four pairs of them annually (including double hatches) rear only four young; and that these go on rearing their young at the same rate: then at the end of seven years (a short life, excluding violent deaths, for any birds) there will be 2048 robins, instead of the original sixteen; as this increase is quite impossible, so we must conclude either that robins do not rear nearly half their young or that the average life of a robin when reared is from accident not nearly seven years. Both checks probably concur. The same kind of calculation applied to all vegetables and animals produces results either more or less striking, but in scarcely a single instance less striking than in man{229}.

Many practical illustrations of this rapid tendency to increase are on record, namely during peculiar seasons, in the extraordinary increase of certain animals, for instance during the years 1826 to 1828, in La Plata, when from drought, some millions of cattle perished, the whole country swarmed with innumerable mice: now I think it cannot be doubted that during the breeding season all the mice (with the exception of a few males or females in excess) ordinarily pair; and therefore that this astounding increase during three years must be attributed to a greater than usual number surviving the first year, and then breeding, and so on, till the third year, when their numbers were brought down to their usual limits on the return of wet weather. Where man has introduced plants and animals into a new country favourable to them, there are many accounts in how surprisingly few years the whole country has become stocked with them. This increase would necessarily stop as soon as the country was fully stocked; and yet we have every reason to believe from what is known of wild animals that all would pair in the spring. In the majority of cases it is most difficult to imagine where the check falls, generally no doubt on the seeds, eggs, and young; but when we remember how impossible even in mankind (so much better known than any other animal) it is to infer from repeated casual observations what the average of life is, or to discover how different the percentage of deaths to the births in different countries, we ought to feel no legitimate surprise at not seeing where the check falls in animals and plants. It should always be remembered that in most cases the checks are yearly recurrent in a small regular degree, and in an extreme degree during occasionally unusually cold, hot, dry, or wet years, according to the constitution of the being in question. Lighten any check in the smallest degree, and the geometrical power of increase in every organism will instantly increase the average numbers of the favoured species. Nature may be compared to a surface, on which rest ten thousand sharp wedges touching each other and driven inwards by incessant blows{230}. Fully to realise these views much reflection is requisite; Malthus on man should be studied; and all such cases as those of the mice in La Plata, of the cattle and horses when first turned out in S. America, of the robins by our calculation, &c., should be well considered: reflect on the enormous multiplying power inherent and annually in action in all animals; reflect on the countless seeds scattered by a hundred ingenious contrivances, year after year, over the whole face of the land; and yet we have every reason to suppose that the average percentage of every one of the inhabitants of a country will ordinarily remain constant. Finally, let it be borne in mind that this average number of individuals (the external conditions remaining the same) in each country is kept up by recurrent struggles against other species or against external nature (as on the borders of the arctic regions{231}, where the cold checks life); and that ordinarily each individual of each species holds its place, either by its own struggle and capacity of acquiring nourishment in some period (from the egg upwards) of its life, or by the struggle of its parents (in short lived organisms, when the main check occurs at long intervals) against and compared with other individuals of the same or different species.

But let the external conditions of a country change; if in a small degree, the relative proportions of the inhabitants will in most cases simply be slightly changed; but let the number of inhabitants be small, as in an island{232}, and free access to it from other countries be circumscribed; and let the change of condition continue progressing (forming new stations); in such case the original inhabitants must cease to be so perfectly adapted to the changed conditions as they originally were. It has been shown that probably such changes of external conditions would, from acting on the reproductive system, cause the organization of the beings most affected to become, as under domestication, plastic. Now can it be doubted from the struggle each individual (or its parents) has to obtain subsistence that any minute variation in structure, habits, or instincts, adapting that individual better to the new conditions, would tell upon its vigour and health? In the struggle it would have a better chance of surviving, and those of its offspring which inherited the variation, let it be ever so slight, would have a better chance to survive. Yearly more are bred than can survive; the smallest grain in the balance, in the long run, must tell on which death shall fall, and which shall survive{233}. Let this work of selection, on the one hand, and death on the other, go on for a thousand generations; who would pretend to affirm that it would produce no effect, when we remember what in a few years Bakewell effected in cattle and Western in sheep, by this identical principle of selection.

To give an imaginary example, from changes in progress on an island, let the organization{234} of a canine animal become slightly plastic, which animal preyed chiefly on rabbits, but sometimes on hares; let these same changes cause the number of rabbits very slowly to decrease and the number of hares to increase; the effect of this would be that the fox or dog would be driven to try to catch more hares, and his numbers would tend to decrease; his organization, however, being slightly plastic, those individuals with the lightest forms, longest limbs, and best eye-sight (though perhaps with less cunning or scent) would be slightly favoured, let the difference be ever so small, and would tend to live longer and to survive during that time of the year when food was shortest; they would also rear more young, which young would tend to inherit these slight peculiarities. The less fleet ones would be rigidly destroyed. I can see no more reason to doubt but that these causes in a thousand generations would produce a marked effect, and adapt the form of the fox to catching hares instead of rabbits, than that greyhounds can be improved by selection and careful breeding. So would it be with plants under similar circumstances; if the number of individuals of a species with plumed seeds could be increased by greater powers of dissemination within its own area (that is if the check to increase fell chiefly on the seeds), those seeds which were provided with ever so little more down, or with a plume placed so as to be slightly more acted on by the winds, would in the long run tend to be most disseminated; and hence a greater number of seeds thus formed would germinate, and would tend to produce plants inheriting this slightly better adapted down.

Besides this natural means of selection, by which those individuals are preserved, whether in their egg or seed or in their mature state, which are best adapted to the place they fill in nature, there is a second agency at work in most bisexual animals tending to produce the same effect, namely the struggle of the males for the females. These struggles are generally decided by the law of battle; but in the case of birds, apparently, by the charms of their song{235}, by their beauty or their power of courtship, as in the dancing rock-thrush of Guiana. Even in the animals which pair there seems to be an excess of males which would aid in causing a struggle: in the polygamous animals{236}, however, as in deer, oxen, poultry, we might expect there would be severest struggle: is it not in the polygamous animals that the males are best formed for mutual war? The most vigorous males, implying perfect adaptation, must generally gain the victory in their several contests. This kind of selection, however, is less rigorous than the other; it does not require the death of the less successful, but gives to them fewer descendants. This struggle falls, moreover, at a time of year when food is generally abundant, and perhaps the effect chiefly produced would be the alteration of sexual characters, and the selection of individual forms, no way related to their power of obtaining food, or of defending themselves from their natural enemies, but of fighting one with another. This natural struggle amongst the males may be compared in effect, but in a less degree, to that produced by those agriculturalists who pay less attention to the careful selection of all the young animals which they breed and more to the occasional use of a choice male{237}.

Differences between "Races" and "Species":-first, in their trueness or variability.

Races{238} produced by these natural means of selection{239} we may expect would differ in some respects from those produced by man. Man selects chiefly by the eye, and is not able to perceive the course of every vessel and nerve, or the form of the bones, or whether the internal structure corresponds to the outside shape. He{240} is unable to select shades of constitutional differences, and by the protection he affords and his endeavours to keep his property alive, in whatever country he lives, he checks, as much as lies in his power, the selecting action of nature, which will, however, go on to a lesser degree with all living things, even if their length of life is not determined by their own powers of endurance. He has bad judgment, is capricious, he does not, or his successors do not, wish to select for the same exact end for hundreds of generations. He cannot always suit the selected form to the properest conditions; nor does he keep those conditions uniform: he selects that which is useful to him, not that best adapted to those conditions in which each variety is placed by him: he selects a small dog, but feeds it highly; he selects a long-backed dog, but does not exercise it in any peculiar manner, at least not during every generation. He seldom allows the most vigorous males to struggle for themselves and propagate, but picks out such as he possesses, or such as he prefers, and not necessarily those best adapted to the existing conditions. Every agriculturalist and breeder knows how difficult it is to prevent an occasional cross with another breed. He often grudges to destroy an individual which departs considerably from the required type. He often begins his selection by a form or sport considerably departing from the parent form. Very differently does the natural law of selection act; the varieties selected differ only slightly from the parent forms{241}; the conditions are constant for long periods and change slowly; rarely can there be a cross; the selection is rigid and unfailing, and continued through many generations; a selection can never be made without the form be better adapted to the conditions than the parent form; the selecting power goes on without caprice, and steadily for thousands of years adapting the form to these conditions. The selecting power is not deceived by external appearances, it tries the being during its whole life; and if less well ??? adapted than its congeners, without fail it is destroyed; every part of its structure is thus scrutinised and proved good towards the place in nature which it occupies.

We have every reason to believe that in proportion to the number of generations that a domestic race is kept free from crosses, and to the care employed in continued steady selection with one end in view, and to the care in not placing the variety in conditions unsuited to it; in such proportion does the new race become "true" or subject to little variation{242}. How incomparably "truer" then would a race produced by the above rigid, steady, natural means of selection, excellently trained and perfectly adapted to its conditions, free from stains of blood or crosses, and continued during thousands of years, be compared with one produced by the feeble, capricious, misdirected and ill-adapted selection of man. Those races of domestic animals produced by savages, partly by the inevitable conditions of their life, and partly unintentionally by their greater care of the individuals most valuable to them, would probably approach closest to the character of a species; and I believe this is the case. Now the characteristic mark of a species, next, if not equal in importance to its sterility when crossed with another species, and indeed almost the only other character (without we beg the question and affirm the essence of a species, is its not having descended from a parent common to any other form), is the similarity of the individuals composing the species, or in the language of agriculturalists their "trueness."

Difference between "Races" and "Species" in fertility when crossed.

The sterility of species, or of their offspring, when crossed has, however, received more attention than the uniformity in character of the individuals composing the species. It is exceedingly natural that such sterility{243} should have been long thought the certain characteristic of species. For it is obvious that if the allied different forms which we meet with in the same country could cross together, instead of finding a number of distinct species, we should have a confused and blending series. The fact however of a perfect gradation in the degree of sterility between species, and the circumstance of some species most closely allied (for instance many species of crocus and European heaths) refusing to breed together, whereas other species, widely different, and even belonging to distinct genera, as the fowl and the peacock, pheasant and grouse{244}, Azalea and Rhododendron, Thuja and Juniperus, breeding together ought to have caused a doubt whether the sterility did not depend on other causes, distinct from a law, coincident with their creation. I may here remark that the fact whether one species will or will not breed with another is far less important than the sterility of the offspring when produced; for even some domestic races differ so greatly in size (as the great stag-greyhound and lap-dog, or cart-horse and Burmese ponies) that union is nearly impossible; and what is less generally known is, that in plants K?lreuter has shown by hundreds of experiments that the pollen of one species will fecundate the germen of another species, whereas the pollen of this latter will never act on the germen of the former; so that the simple fact of mutual impregnation certainly has no relation whatever to the distinctness in creation of the two forms. When two species are attempted to be crossed which are so distantly allied that offspring are never produced, it has been observed in some cases that the pollen commences its proper action by exserting its tube, and the germen commences swelling, though soon afterwards it decays. In the next stage in the series, hybrid offspring are produced though only rarely and few in number, and these are absolutely sterile: then we have hybrid offspring more numerous, and occasionally, though very rarely, breeding with either parent, as is the case with the common mule. Again, other hybrids, though infertile inter se, will breed quite freely with either parent, or with a third species, and will yield offspring generally infertile, but sometimes fertile; and these latter again will breed with either parent, or with a third or fourth species: thus K?lreuter blended together many forms. Lastly it is now admitted by those botanists who have longest contended against the admission, that in certain families the hybrid offspring of many of the species are sometimes perfectly fertile in the first generation when bred together: indeed in some few cases Mr Herbert{245} found that the hybrids were decidedly more fertile than either of their pure parents. There is no way to escape from the admission that the hybrids from some species of plants are fertile, except by declaring that no form shall be considered as a species, if it produces with another species fertile offspring: but this is begging the question{246}. It has often been stated that different species of animals have a sexual repugnance towards each other; I can find no evidence of this; it appears as if they merely did not excite each others passions. I do not believe that in this respect there is any essential distinction between animals and plants; and in the latter there cannot be a feeling of repugnance.

Causes of Sterility in Hybrids.

The difference in nature between species which causes the greater or lesser degree of sterility in their offspring appears, according to Herbert and K?lreuter, to be connected much less with external form, size, or structure, than with constitutional peculiarities; by which is meant their adaptation to different climates, food and situation, &c.: these peculiarities of constitution probably affect the entire frame, and no one part in particular{247}.

From the foregoing facts I think we must admit that there exists a perfect gradation in fertility between species which when crossed are quite fertile (as in Rhododendron, Calceolaria, &c.), and indeed in an extraordinary degree fertile (as in Crinum), and those species which never produce offspring, but which by certain effects (as the exsertion of the pollen-tube) evince their alliance. Hence, I conceive, we must give up sterility, although undoubtedly in a lesser or greater degree of very frequent occurrence, as an unfailing mark by which species can be distinguished from races, i.e. from those forms which have descended from a common stock.

Infertility from causes distinct from hybridisation.

Let us see whether there are any analogous facts which will throw any light on this subject, and will tend to explain why the offspring of certain species, when crossed, should be sterile, and not others, without requiring a distinct law connected with their creation to that effect. Great numbers, probably a large majority of animals when caught by man and removed from their natural conditions, although taken very young, rendered quite tame, living to a good old age, and apparently quite healthy, seem incapable under these circumstances of breeding{248}. I do not refer to animals kept in menageries, such as at the Zoological Gardens, many of which, however, appear healthy and live long and unite but do not produce; but to animals caught and left partly at liberty in their native country. Rengger{249} enumerates several caught young and rendered tame, which he kept in Paraguay, and which would not breed: the hunting leopard or cheetah and elephant offer other instances; as do bears in Europe, and the 25 species of hawks, belonging to different genera, thousands of which have been kept for hawking and have lived for long periods in perfect vigour. When the expense and trouble of procuring a succession of young animals in a wild state be borne in mind, one may feel sure that no trouble has been spared in endeavours to make them breed. So clearly marked is this difference in different kinds of animals, when captured by man, that St Hilaire makes two great classes of animals useful to man:-the tame, which will not breed, and the domestic which will breed in domestication. From certain singular facts we might have supposed that the non-breeding of animals was owing to some perversion of instinct. But we meet with exactly the same class of facts in plants: I do not refer to the large number of cases where the climate does not permit the seed or fruit to ripen, but where the flowers do not "set," owing to some imperfection of the ovule or pollen. The latter, which alone can be distinctly examined, is often manifestly imperfect, as any one with a microscope can observe by comparing the pollen of the Persian and Chinese lilacs{250} with the common lilac; the two former species (I may add) are equally sterile in Italy as in this country. Many of the American bog plants here produce little or no pollen, whilst the Indian species of the same genera freely produce it. Lindley observes that sterility is the bane of the horticulturist{251}: Linn?us has remarked on the sterility of nearly all alpine flowers when cultivated in a lowland district{252}. Perhaps the immense class of double flowers chiefly owe their structure to an excess of food acting on parts rendered slightly sterile and less capable of performing their true function, and therefore liable to be rendered monstrous, which monstrosity, like any other disease, is inherited and rendered common. So far from domestication being in itself unfavourable to fertility, it is well known that when an organism is once capable of submission to such conditions ?its? fertility is increased{253} beyond the natural limit. According to agriculturists, slight changes of conditions, that is of food or habitation, and likewise crosses with races slightly different, increase the vigour and probably the fertility of their offspring. It would appear also that even a great change of condition, for instance, transportal from temperate countries to India, in many cases does not in the least affect fertility, although it does health and length of life and the period of maturity. When sterility is induced by domestication it is of the same kind, and varies in degree, exactly as with hybrids: for be it remembered that the most sterile hybrid is no way monstrous; its organs are perfect, but they do not act, and minute microscopical investigations show that they are in the same state as those of pure species in the intervals of the breeding season. The defective pollen in the cases above alluded to precisely resembles that of hybrids. The occasional breeding of hybrids, as of the common mule, may be aptly compared to the most rare but occasional reproduction of elephants in captivity. The cause of many exotic Geraniums producing (although in vigorous health) imperfect pollen seems to be connected with the period when water is given them{254}; but in the far greater majority of cases we cannot form any conjecture on what exact cause the sterility of organisms taken from their natural conditions depends. Why, for instance, the cheetah will not breed whilst the common cat and ferret (the latter generally kept shut up in a small box) do,-why the elephant will not whilst the pig will abundantly-why the partridge and grouse in their own country will not, whilst several species of pheasants, the guinea-fowl from the deserts of Africa and the peacock from the jungles of India, will. We must, however, feel convinced that it depends on some constitutional peculiarities in these beings not suited to their new condition; though not necessarily causing an ill state of health. Ought we then to wonder much that those hybrids which have been produced by the crossing of species with different constitutional tendencies (which tendencies we know to be eminently inheritable) should be sterile: it does not seem improbable that the cross from an alpine and lowland plant should have its constitutional powers deranged, in nearly the same manner as when the parent alpine plant is brought into a lowland district. Analogy, however, is a deceitful guide, and it would be rash to affirm, although it may appear probable, that the sterility of hybrids is due to the constitutional peculiarities of one parent being disturbed by being blended with those of the other parent in exactly the same manner as it is caused in some organic beings when placed by man out of their natural conditions{255}. Although this would be rash, it would, I think, be still rasher, seeing that sterility is no more incidental to all cross-bred productions than it is to all organic beings when captured by man, to assert that the sterility of certain hybrids proved a distinct creation of their parents.

But it may be objected{256} (however little the sterility of certain hybrids is connected with the distinct creations of species), how comes it, if species are only races produced by natural selection, that when crossed they so frequently produce sterile offspring, whereas in the offspring of those races confessedly produced by the arts of man there is no one instance of sterility. There is not much difficulty in this, for the races produced by the natural means above explained will be slowly but steadily selected; will be adapted to various and diverse conditions, and to these conditions they will be rigidly confined for immense periods of time; hence we may suppose that they would acquire different constitutional peculiarities adapted to the stations they occupy; and on the constitutional differences between species their sterility, according to the best authorities, depends. On the other hand man selects by external appearance{257}; from his ignorance, and from not having any test at least comparable in delicacy to the natural struggle for food, continued at intervals through the life of each individual, he cannot eliminate fine shades of constitution, dependent on invisible differences in the fluids or solids of the body; again, from the value which he attaches to each individual, he asserts his utmost power in contravening the natural tendency of the most vigorous to survive. Man, moreover, especially in the earlier ages, cannot have kept his conditions of life constant, and in later ages his stock pure. Until man selects two varieties from the same stock, adapted to two climates or to other different external conditions, and confines each rigidly for one or several thousand years to such conditions, always selecting the individuals best adapted to them, he cannot be said to have even commenced the experiment. Moreover, the organic beings which man has longest had under domestication have been those which were of the greatest use to him, and one chief element of their usefulness, especially in the earlier ages, must have been their capacity to undergo sudden transportals into various climates, and at the same time to retain their fertility, which in itself implies that in such respects their constitutional peculiarities were not closely limited. If the opinion already mentioned be correct, that most of the domestic animals in their present state have descended from the fertile commixture of wild races or species, we have indeed little reason now to expect infertility between any cross of stock thus descended.

It is worthy of remark, that as many organic beings, when taken by man out of their natural conditions, have their reproductive system ?so? affected as to be incapable of propagation, so, we saw in the first chapter, that although organic beings when taken by man do propagate freely, their offspring after some generations vary or sport to a degree which can only be explained by their reproductive system being ?in? some way affected. Again, when species cross, their offspring are generally sterile; but it was found by K?lreuter that when hybrids are capable of breeding with either parent, or with other species, that their offspring are subject after some generations to excessive variation{258}. Agriculturists, also, affirm that the offspring from mongrels, after the first generation, vary much. Hence we see that both sterility and variation in the succeeding generations are consequent both on the removal of individual species from their natural states and on species crossing. The connection between these facts may be accidental, but they certainly appear to elucidate and support each other,-on the principle of the reproductive system of all organic beings being eminently sensitive to any disturbance, whether from removal or commixture, in their constitutional relations to the conditions to which they are exposed.

Points of Resemblance between "Races" and "Species{259}."

Races and reputed species agree in some respects, although differing from causes which, we have seen, we can in some degree understand, in the fertility and "trueness" of their offspring. In the first place, there is no clear sign by which to distinguish races from species, as is evident from the great difficulty experienced by naturalists in attempting to discriminate them. As far as external characters are concerned, many of the races which are descended from the same stock differ far more than true species of the same genus; look at the willow-wrens, some of which skilful ornithologists can hardly distinguish from each other except by their nests; look at the wild swans, and compare the distinct species of these genera with the races of domestic ducks, poultry, and pigeons; and so again with plants, compare the cabbages, almonds, peaches and nectarines, &c. with the species of many genera. St Hilaire has even remarked that there is a greater difference in size between races, as in dogs (for he believes all have descended from one stock), than between the species of any one genus; nor is this surprising, considering that amount of food and consequently of growth is the element of change over which man has most power. I may refer to a former statement, that breeders believe the growth of one part or strong action of one function causes a decrease in other parts; for this seems in some degree analogous to the law of "organic compensation{260}," which many naturalists believe holds good. To give an instance of this law of compensation,-those species of Carnivora which have the canine teeth greatly developed have certain molar teeth deficient; or again, in that division of the Crustaceans in which the tail is much developed, the thorax is little so, and the converse. The points of difference between different races is often strikingly analogous to that between species of the same genus: trifling spots or marks of colour{261} (as the bars on pigeons' wings) are often preserved in races of plants and animals, precisely in the same manner as similar trifling characters often pervade all the species of a genus, and even of a family. Flowers in varying their colours often become veined and spotted and the leaves become divided like true species: it is known that the varieties of the same plant never have red, blue and yellow flowers, though the hyacinth makes a very near approach to an exception{262}; and different species of the same genus seldom, though sometimes they have flowers of these three colours. Dun-coloured horses having a dark stripe down their backs, and certain domestic asses having transverse bars on their legs, afford striking examples of a variation analogous in character to the distinctive marks of other species of the same genus.

External characters of Hybrids and Mongrels.

There is, however, as it appears to me, a more important method of comparison between species and races, namely the character of the offspring{263} when species are crossed and when races are crossed: I believe, in no one respect, except in sterility, is there any difference. It would, I think, be a marvellous fact, if species have been formed by distinct acts of creation, that they should act upon each other in uniting, like races descended from a common stock. In the first place, by repeated crossing one species can absorb and wholly obliterate the characters of another, or of several other species, in the same manner as one race will absorb by crossing another race. Marvellous, that one act of creation should absorb another or even several acts of creation! The offspring of species, that is hybrids, and the offspring of races, that is mongrels, resemble each other in being either intermediate in character (as is most frequent in hybrids) or in resembling sometimes closely one and sometimes the other parent; in both the offspring produced by the same act of conception sometimes differ in their degree of resemblance; both hybrids and mongrels sometimes retain a certain part or organ very like that of either parent, both, as we have seen, become in succeeding generations variable; and this tendency to vary can be transmitted by both; in both for many generations there is a strong tendency to reversion to their ancestral form. In the case of a hybrid laburnum and of a supposed mongrel vine different parts of the same plants took after each of their two parents. In the hybrids from some species, and in the mongrel of some races, the offspring differ according as which of the two species, or of the two races, is the father (as in the common mule and hinny) and which the mother. Some races will breed together, which differ so greatly in size, that the dam often perishes in labour; so it is with some species when crossed; when the dam of one species has borne offspring to the male of another species, her succeeding offspring are sometimes stained (as in Lord Morton's mare by the quagga, wonderful as the fact{264} is) by this first cross; so agriculturists positively affirm is the case when a pig or sheep of one breed has produced offspring by the sire of another breed.

Summary of second chapter{265}.

Let us sum up this second chapter. If slight variations do occur in organic beings in a state of nature; if changes of condition from geological causes do produce in the course of ages effects analogous to those of domestication on any, however few, organisms; and how can we doubt it,-from what is actually known, and from what may be presumed, since thousands of organisms taken by man for sundry uses, and placed in new conditions, have varied. If such variations tend to be hereditary; and how can we doubt it,-when we see shades of expression, peculiar manners, monstrosities of the strangest kinds, diseases, and a multitude of other peculiarities, which characterise and form, being inherited, the endless races (there are 1200 kinds of cabbages{266}) of our domestic plants and animals. If we admit that every organism maintains its place by an almost periodically recurrent struggle; and how can we doubt it,-when we know that all beings tend to increase in a geometrical ratio (as is instantly seen when the conditions become for a time more favourable); whereas on an average the amount of food must remain constant, if so, there will be a natural means of selection, tending to preserve those individuals with any slight deviations of structure more favourable to the then existing conditions, and tending to destroy any with deviations of an opposite nature. If the above propositions be correct, and there be no law of nature limiting the possible amount of variation, new races of beings will,-perhaps only rarely, and only in some few districts,-be formed.

Limits of Variation.

That a limit to variation does exist in nature is assumed by most authors, though I am unable to discover a single fact on which this belief is grounded{267}. One of the commonest statements is that plants do not become acclimatised; and I have even observed that kinds not raised by seed, but propagated by cuttings, &c., are instanced. A good instance has, however, been advanced in the case of kidney beans, which it is believed are now as tender as when first introduced. Even if we overlook the frequent introduction of seed from warmer countries, let me observe that as long as the seeds are gathered promiscuously from the bed, without continual observation and careful selection of those plants which have stood the climate best during their whole growth, the experiment of acclimatisation has hardly been begun. Are not all those plants and animals, of which we have the greatest number of races, the oldest domesticated? Considering the quite recent progress{268} of systematic agriculture and horticulture, is it not opposed to every fact, that we have exhausted the capacity of variation in our cattle and in our corn,-even if we have done so in some trivial points, as their fatness or kind of wool? Will any one say, that if horticulture continues to flourish during the next few centuries, that we shall not have numerous new kinds of the potato and Dahlia? But take two varieties of each of these plants, and adapt them to certain fixed conditions and prevent any cross for 5000 years, and then again vary their conditions; try many climates and situations; and who{269} will predict the number and degrees of difference which might arise from these stocks? I repeat that we know nothing of any limit to the possible amount of variation, and therefore to the number and differences of the races, which might be produced by the natural means of selection, so infinitely more efficient than the agency of man. Races thus produced would probably be very "true"; and if from having been adapted to different conditions of existence, they possessed different constitutions, if suddenly removed to some new station, they would perhaps be sterile and their offspring would perhaps be infertile. Such races would be undistinguishable from species. But is there any evidence that the species, which surround us on all sides, have been thus produced? This is a question which an examination of the economy of nature we might expect would answer either in the affirmative or negative{270}.

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