'We must do something' is the unanimous refrain. 'You begin' is the deadening refrain.
-Walter Dwight
Chapter 15: Recapitulation and Conclusion
By: Charles Darwin, 1859
AS THIS whole volume is one long argument, it may be convenient to
the reader to have the leading facts and inferences briefly
recapitulated.
That many and serious objections may be advanced against the
theory of descent with modification through variation and natural
selection, I do not deny. I have endeavoured to give to them their
full force. Nothing at first can appear more difficult to believe than
that the more complex organs and instincts have been perfected, not by
means superior to, though analogous with, human reason, but by the
accumulation of innumerable slight variations, each good for the
individual possessor. Nevertheless, this difficulty, though
appearing to our imagination insuperably great, cannot be considered
real if we admit the following propositions, namely, that all parts of
the organisation and instincts offer, at least, individual
differences- that there is a struggle for existence leading to the
preservation of profitable deviations of structure or instinct- and,
lastly, that gradations in the state of perfection of each organ may
have existed, each good of its kind. The truth of these propositions
cannot, I think, be disputed.
It is, no doubt, extremely difficult even to conjecture by what
gradations many structures have been perfected, more especially
amongst broken and failing groups of organic beings, which have
suffered much extinction, but we see so many strange gradations in
nature, that we ought to be extremely cautious in saying that any
organ or instinct, or any whole structure, could not have arrived at
its present state by many graduated steps. There are, it must be
admitted, cases of special difficulty opposed to the theory of natural
selection; and one of the most curious of these is the existence in
the same community of two or three defined castes of workers or
sterile female ants; but I have attempted to show how these
difficulties can be mastered.
With respect to the almost universal sterility of species when first
crossed, which forms so remarkable a contrast with the almost
universal fertility of varieties when crossed, I must refer the
reader to the recapitulation of the facts given at the end of the
ninth chapter, which seem to me conclusively to show that this
sterility is no more a special endowment than is the incapacity of two
distinct kinds of trees to be grafted together; but that it is
incidental on differences confined to the reproductive systems of
the intercrossed species. We see the truth of this conclusion in the
vast difference in the results of crossing the same two species
reciprocally,- that is, when one species is first used as the father
and then as the mother. Analogy from the consideration of dimorphic
and trimorphic plants clearly leads to the same conclusion, for when
the forms are illegitimately united, they yield few or no seed, and
their offspring are more or less sterile; and these forms belong to
the same undoubted species, and differ from each other in no respect
except in their reproductive organs and functions.
Although the fertility of varieties when intercrossed and of their
mongrel offspring has been asserted by so many authors to be
universal, this cannot be considered as quite correct after the
facts given on the high authority of Gartner and Kolreuter. Most of
the varieties which have been experimented on have been produced under
domestication; and as domestication (I do not mean mere confinement)
almost certainly tends to eliminate that sterility which, judging from
analogy, would have affected the parent-species if intercrossed, we
ought not to expect that domestication would likewise induce sterility
in their modified descendants when crossed. This elimination of
sterility apparently follows from the same cause which allows our
domestic animals to breed freely under diversified circumstances;
and this again apparently follows from their having been gradually
accustomed to frequent changes in their conditions of life.
A double and parallel series of facts seems to throw much light on
the sterility of species, when first crossed, and of their hybrid
offspring. On the one side, there is good reason to believe that
slight changes in the conditions of life give vigour and fertility
to all organic beings. We know also that a cross between the
distinct individuals of the same variety, and between distinct
varieties, increases the number of their offspring, and certainly
gives to them increased size and vigour. This is chiefly owing to
the forms which are crossed having been exposed to somewhat
different conditions of life; for I have ascertained by a laborious
series of experiments that if all the individuals of the same
variety be subjected during several generations to the same
conditions, the good derived from crossing is often much diminished or
wholly disappears. This is one side of the case. On the other side, we
know that species which have long been exposed to nearly uniform
conditions, when they are subjected under confinement to new and
greatly changed conditions, either perish, or if they survive, are
rendered sterile, though retaining perfect health. This does not
occur, or only in a very slight degree, with our domesticated
productions, which have long been exposed to fluctuating conditions.
Hence when we find that hybrids produced by a cross between two
distinct species are few in number, owing to their perishing soon
after conception or at a very early age, or if surviving that they are
rendered more or less sterile, it seems highly probable that this
result is due to their having been in fact subjected to a great change
in their conditions of life, from being compounded of two distinct
organisations. He who will explain in a definite manner why, for
instance, air elephant or a fox will not breed under confinement in
its native country, whilst the domestic pig or dog will breed freely
under the most diversified conditions, will at the same time be able
to give a definite answer to the question why two distinct species,
when crossed, as well as their hybrid offspring, are generally
rendered more or less sterile, whilst two domesticated varieties
when crossed and their mongrel offspring are perfectly fertile.
Turning to geographical distribution, the difficulties encountered
on the theory of descent with modification are serious enough. All the
individuals of the same species, and all the species of the same
genus, or even higher group, are descended from common parents; and
therefore, in however distant and isolated parts of the world they may
now be found, they must in the course of successive generations have
travelled from some one point to all the others. We are often wholly
unable even to conjecture how this could have been effected. Yet, as
we have reason to believe that some species have retained the same
specific form for very long periods of time, immensely long as
measured by years, too much stress ought not to be laid on the
occasional wide diffusion of the same species; for during very long
periods there will always have been a good chance for wide migration
by many means. A broken or interrupted range may often be accounted
for by the extinction of the species in the intermediate regions. It
cannot be denied that we are as yet very ignorant as to the full
extent of the various climatal and geographical changes which have
affected the earth during modern periods; and such changes will
often have facilitated migration. As an example, I have attempted to
show how potent has been the influence of the Glacial period on the
distribution of the same and of allied species throughout the world.
We are as yet profoundly ignorant of the many occasional means of
transport. With respect to distinct species of the same genus
inhabiting distant and isolated regions, as the process of
modification has necessarily been slow, all the means of migration
will have been possible during a very long period; and consequently
the difficulty of the wide diffusion of the species of the same
genus is in some degree lessened.
As according to the theory of natural selection an interminable
number of intermediate forms must have existed, linking together all
the species in each group by gradations as fine as are our existing
varieties, it may be asked: Why do we not see these linking forms
all around us? Why are not all organic beings blended together in an
inextricable chaos? With respect to existing forms, we should remember
that we have no right to expect (excepting in rare cases) to
discover directly connecting links between them, but only between each
and some extinct and supplanted form. Even on a wide area, which has
during a long period remained continuous, and of which the climatic
and other conditions of life change insensibly in proceeding from a
district occupied by one species into another district occupied by a
closely allied species, we have no just right to expect often to
find intermediate varieties in the intermediate zones. For we have
reason to believe that only a few species of a genus ever undergo
change; the other species becoming utterly extinct and leaving no
modified progeny. Of the species which do change, only a few within
the same country change at the same time; and all modifications are
slowly effected. I have also shown that the intermediate varieties
which probably at first existed in the intermediate zones, would be
liable to be supplanted by the allied forms on either hand; for the
latter, from existing in greater numbers, would generally be
modified and improved at a quicker rate than the intermediate
varieties, which existed in lesser numbers; so that the intermediate
varieties would, in the long run, be supplanted and exterminated.
On this doctrine of the extermination of an infinitude of connecting
links, between the living and extinct inhabitants of the world, and at
each successive period between the extinct and still older species,
why is not every geological formation charged with such links? Why
does not every collection of fossil remains afford plain evidence of
the gradation and mutation of the forms of life? Although geological
research has undoubtedly revealed the former existence of many
links, bringing numerous forms of life much closer together, it does
not yield the infinitely many fine gradations between past and present
species required on the theory; and this is the most obvious of the
many objections which may be urged against it. Why, again, do whole
groups of allied species appear, though this appearance is often
false, to have come in suddenly on the successive geological stages?
Although we now know that organic beings appeared on this globe, at
a period incalculably remote, long before the lowest bed of the
Cambrian system was deposited, why do we not find beneath this
system great piles of strata stored with the remains of the
progenitors of the Cambrian fossils? For on the theory, such strata
must somewhere have been deposited at these ancient and utterly
unknown epochs of the world's history.
I can answer these questions and objections only on the
supposition that the geological record is far more imperfect than most
geologists believe. The number of specimens in all our museums is
absolutely as nothing compared with the countless generations of
countless species which have certainly existed. The parent-form of any
two or more species would not be in all its characters directly
intermediate between its modified offspring, any more than the
rock-pigeon is directly intermediate in crop and tail between its
descendants, the pouter and fantail pigeons. We should not be able
to recognise a species as the parent of another and modified
species, if we were to examine the two ever so closely, unless we
possessed most of the intermediate links; and owing to the
imperfection of the geological record, we have no just right to expect
to find so many links. If two or three, or even more linking forms
were discovered, they would simply be ranked by many naturalists as so
many new species, more especially if found in different geological
sub-stages, let their differences be ever so slight. Numerous existing
doubtful forms could be named which are probably varieties; but who
will pretend that in future ages so many fossil links will be
discovered, that naturalists will be able to decide whether or not
these doubtful forms ought to be called varieties? Only a small
portion of the world has been geologically explored. Only organic
beings of certain classes can be preserved in a fossil condition, at
least in any great number. Many species when once formed never undergo
any further change but become extinct without leaving modified
descendants; and the periods, during which species have undergone
modification, though long as measured by years, have probably been
short in comparison with the periods during which they retain the same
form. It is the dominant and widely ranging species which vary most
frequently and vary most, and varieties are often at first local- both
causes rendering the discovery of intermediate links in any one
formation less likely. Local varieties will not spread into other
and distant regions until they are considerably modified and improved;
and when they have spread, and are discovered in a geological
formation, they appear as if suddenly created there, and will be
simply classed as new species. Most formations have been
intermittent in their accumulation; and their duration has probably
been shorter than the average duration of specific forms. Successive
formations are in most cases separated from each other by blank
intervals of time of great length; for fossiliferous formations
thick enough to resist future degradations can as a general rule be
accumulated only where much sediment is deposited on the subsiding bed
of the sea. During the alternate periods of elevation and of
stationary level the record will generally be blank. During these
latter periods there will probably be more variability in the forms of
life; during periods of subsidence, more extinction.
With respect to the absence of strata rich in fossils beneath the
Cambrian formation, I can recur only to the hypothesis given in the
tenth chapter; namely, that though our continents and oceans have
endured for an enormous period in nearly their present relative
positions, we have no reason to assume that this has always been the
case; consequently formations much older than any now known may lie
buried beneath the great oceans. With respect to the lapse of time not
having been sufficient since our planet was consolidated for the
assumed amount of organic change, and this objection, as urged by
Sir William Thompson, is probably one of the gravest as yet
advanced, I can only say, firstly, that we do not know at what rate
species change as measured by years, and secondly, that many
philosophers are not as yet willing to admit that we know enough of
the constitution of the universe and of the interior of our globe to
speculate with safety on its past duration.
That the geological record is imperfect all will admit; but that
it is imperfect to the degree required by our theory, few will be
inclined to admit. If we look to long enough intervals of time,
geology plainly declares that species have all changed; and they
have changed in the manner required by the theory, for they have
changed slowly and in a graduated manner. We clearly see this in the
fossil remains from consecutive formations invariably being much
more closely related to each other, than are the fossils from widely
separated formations.
Such is the sum of the several chief objections and difficulties
which may be justly urged against the theory; and I have now briefly
recapitulated the answers and explanations which, as far as I can see,
may be given. I have felt these difficulties far too heavily during
many years to doubt their weight. But it deserves especial notice
that the more important objections relate to questions on which we are
confessedly ignorant; nor do we know how ignorant we are. We do not
know all the possible transitional gradations between the simplest and
the most perfect organs; it cannot be pretended that we know all the
varied means of Distribution during the long lapse of years, or that
we know how imperfect is the Geological Record. Serious as these
several objections are, in my judgment they are by no means sufficient
to overthrow the theory of descent with subsequent modification.
Now let us turn to the other side of the argument. Under
domestication we see much variability, caused, or at least excited, by
changed conditions of life; but often in so obscure a manner, that
we are tempted to consider the variations as spontaneous.
Variability is governed by many complex laws,- by correlated growth,
compensation, the increased use and disuse of parts, and the
definite action of the surrounding conditions. There is much
difficulty in ascertaining how largely our domestic productions have
been modified; but we may safely infer that the amount has been large,
and that modifications can be inherited for long periods. As long as
the conditions of life remain the same, we have reason to believe that
a modification, which has already been inherited for many
generations, may continue to be inherited for an almost infinite
number of generations. On the other hand, we have evidence that
variability when it has once come into play, does not cease under
domestication for a very long period; nor do we know that it ever
ceases, for new varieties are still occasionally produced by our
oldest domesticated productions.
Variability is not actually caused by man; he only unintentionally
exposes organic beings to new conditions of life, and then nature acts
on the organisation and causes it to vary. But man can and does select
the variations given to him by nature, and thus accumulates them in
any desired manner. He thus adapts animals and plants for his own
benefit or pleasure. He may do this methodically, or he may do it
unconsciously by preserving the individuals most useful or pleasing to
him without any intention of altering the breed. It is certain that he
can largely influence the character of a breed by selecting, in each
successive generation, individual differences so slight as to be
inappreciable except by an educated eye. This unconscious process of
selection has been the great agency in the formation of the most
distinct and useful domestic breeds. That many breeds produced by
man have to a large extent the character of natural species, is
shown by the inextricable doubts whether many of them are varieties or
aboriginally distinct species.
There is no reason why the principles which have acted so
efficiently under domestication should not have acted under nature. In
the survival of favoured individuals and races, during the
constantly-recurrent Struggle for Existence, we see a powerful and
ever-acting form of Selection. The struggle for existence inevitably
follows from the high geometrical ratio of increase which is common,
to all organic beings. This high rate of increase is proved by
calculation,- by the rapid increase of many animals and plants
during succession of peculiar seasons, and when naturalised in new
countries. More individuals are born than can possibly survive. A
grain in the balance may determine which individuals shall live and
which shall die,- which variety or species shall increase in number,
and which shall decrease, or finally become extinct. As the
individuals of the same species come in all respects into the
closest competition with each other, the struggle will generally be
most severe between them; it will be almost equally severe between the
varieties of the same species, and next in severity between the
species of the same genus. On the other hand the struggle will often
be severe between beings remote in the scale of nature. The
slightest advantage in certain individuals, at any age or during any
season, over those with which they come into competition, or better
adaptation in however slight a degree to the surrounding physical
conditions, will, in the long run, turn the balance.
With animals having separated sexes, there will be in most cases a
struggle between the males for the possession of the females. The most
vigorous males, or those which have most successfully struggled with
their conditions of life, will generally leave most progeny. But
success will often depend on the males having special weapons, or
means of defence, or charms; add a slight advantage will lead to
victory.
As geology plainly proclaims that each land has undergone great
physical changes, we might have expected to find that organic beings
have varied under nature, in the same way as they have varied under
domestication. And if there has been any variability under nature,
it would be an unaccountable fact if natural selection had not come
into play. It has often been asserted, but the assertion is
incapable of proof, that the amount of variation under nature is a
strictly limited quantity. Man, though acting on external characters
alone and often capriciously, can produce within a short period a
great result by adding up mere individual differences in his
domestic productions; and every one admits that species present
individual differences. But, besides such differences, all naturalists
admit that natural varieties exist, which are considered
sufficiently distinct to be worthy of record in systematic works. No
one has drawn any clear distinction between individual differences and
slight varieties; or between more plainly marked varieties and
sub-species, and species. On separate continents, and on different
parts of the same continent when divided by barriers of any kind,
and on outlying islands, what a multitude of forms exist, which some
experienced naturalists rank as varieties, others as geographical
races or sub-species, and others as distinct, though closely allied
species!
If, then, animals and plants do vary, let it be ever so slightly
or slowly, why should not variations or individual differences,
which are in any way beneficial, be preserved and accumulated
through natural selection, or the survival of the fittest? If man
can by patience select variations useful to him, why, under changing
and complex conditions of life, should not variations useful to
nature's living products often arise, and be preserved or selected?
What limit can be put to this power, acting during long ages and
rigidly scrutinising the whole constitution, structure, and habits
of each creature,- favouring the good and rejecting the bad? I can see
no limit to this power, in slowly and beautifully adapting each form
to the most complex relations of life. The theory of natural
selection, even if we look no farther than this, seems to be in the
highest degree probable. I have already recapitulated, as fairly as
I could, the opposed difficulties and objections; now let us turn to
the special facts and arguments in favour of the theory.
On the view that species are only strongly marked and permanent
varieties, and that each species first existed as a variety, we can
see why it is that no line of demarcation can be drawn between
species, commonly supposed to have been produced by special acts of
creation, and varieties which are acknowledged to have been produced
by secondary laws. On this same view we can understand how it is
that in a region where many species of a genus have been produced, and
where they now flourish, these same species should present many
varieties; for where the manufactory of species has been active, we
might expect, as a general rule, to find it still in action; and
this is the case if varieties be incipient species. Moreover, the
species of the larger genera, which afford the greater number of
varieties or incipient species, retain to a certain degree the
character of varieties; for they differ from each other by a less
amount of difference than do the species of smaller genera. The
closely allied species also of the larger genera apparently have
restricted ranges, and in their affinities they are clustered in
little groups round other species- in both respects resembling
varieties. These are strange relations on the view that each species
was independently created, but are intelligible if each existed
first as a variety.
As each species tends by its geometrical rate of reproduction to
increase inordinately in number; and as the modified descendants of
each species will be enabled to increase by as much as they become
more diversified in habits and structure, so as to be able to seize on
many and widely different places in the economy of nature, there
will be a constant tendency in natural selection to preserve the
most divergent offspring of any one species. Hence, during a
long-continued course of modification, the slight differences,
characteristic of varieties of the same species, tend to be
augmented into the greater differences characteristic of the species
of the same genus. New and improved varieties will inevitably supplant
and exterminate the older, less improved, and intermediate
varieties; and thus species are rendered to a large extent defined and
distinct objects. Dominant species belonging to the larger groups
within each class tend to give birth to new and dominant forms; so
that each large group tends to become still larger, and at the same
time more divergent in character. But as all groups cannot thus go
on increasing in size, for the world would not hold them, the more
dominant groups beat the less dominant. This tendency in the large
groups to go on increasing in size and diverging in character,
together with the inevitable contingency of much extinction,
explains the arrangement of all the forms of life in groups
subordinate to groups, all within a few great classes, which has
prevailed throughout all time. This grand fact of the grouping of
all organic beings under what is called the Natural System, is utterly
inexplicable on the theory of creation.
As natural selection acts solely by accumulating slight, successive,
favourable variations, it can produce no great or sudden
modifications; it can act only by short and slow steps. Hence, the
canon of "Natura non facit saltum," which every fresh addition to
our knowledge tends to confirm, is on this theory intelligible. We can
see why throughout nature the same general end is gained by an
almost infinite diversity of means, for every peculiarity when once
acquired is long inherited, and structures already modified in many
different ways have to be adapted for the same general purpose. We
can, in short, see why nature is prodigal in variety, though niggard
in innovation. But why this should be a law of nature if each
species has been independently created no man can explain.
Many other facts are, as it seems to me, explicable on this
theory. How strange it is that a bird, under the form of a woodpecker,
should prey on insects on the ground; that upland geese which rarely
or never swim, should possess webbed feet; that a thrush-like bird
should dive and feed on sub-aquatic insects; and that a petrel
should have the habits and structure fitting it for the life of an
awk! and so in endless other cases. But on the view of each species
constantly trying to increase in number, with natural selection always
ready to adapt the slowly varying descendants of each to any
unoccupied or ill-occupied place in nature, these facts cease to be
strange, or might even have been anticipated.
We can to a certain extent understand how it is that there is so
much beauty throughout nature; for this may be largely attributed to
the agency of selection. That beauty, according to our sense of it, is
not universal, must be admitted by every one who will look at some
venomous snakes, at some fishes, and at certain hideous bats with a
distorted resemblance to the human face. Sexual selection has given
the most brilliant colours, elegant patterns, and other ornaments to
the males, and sometimes to both sexes of many birds, butterflies, and
other animals. With birds it has often rendered the voice of the
male musical to the female, as well as to our ears. Flowers and
fruit have been rendered conspicuous by brilliant colours in
contrast with the green foliage, in order that the flowers may be
readily seen, visited and fertilised by insects, and the seeds
disseminated by birds. How it comes that certain colours, sounds,
and forms should give pleasure to man and the lower animals,- that is,
that is, how the sense of beauty in its simplest form was first
acquired,- we do not know any more than how certain odours and
flavours were first rendered agreeable.
As natural selection acts by competition, it adapts and improves the
inhabitants of each country only in relation to their
co-inhabitants; so that we need feel no surprise at the species of any
one country, although on the ordinary view supposed to have been
created and specially adapted for that country, being beaten and
supplanted by the naturalised productions from another land. Nor ought
we to marvel if all the contrivances in nature be not, as far. as we
can judge, absolutely perfect, as in the case even of the human eye;
or if some of them be abhorrent to our ideas of fitness. We need not
marvel at the sting of the bee, when used against an enemy, causing
the bee's own death; at drones being produced in such great numbers
for one single act, and being then slaughtered by their sterile
sisters; at the astonishing waste of pollen by our fir-trees; at the
instinctive hatred of the queen-bee for her own fertile daughters;
at the Ichneumonidae feeding within the living bodies of caterpillars;
or at other such cases. The wonder indeed is, on the theory of natural
selection, that more cases of the want of absolute perfection have
not been detected.
The complex and little known laws governing the production of
varieties are the same, as far as we can judge, with the laws which
have governed the production of distinct species. In both cases
physical conditions seem to have produced some direct and definite
effect, but how much we cannot say. Thus, when varieties enter any new
station, they occasionally assume some of the characters proper to the
species of that station. With both varieties and species, use and
disuse seem to have produced a considerable effect; for it is
impossible to resist this conclusion when we look, for instance, at
the logger-headed duck, which has wings incapable of flight, in nearly
the same condition as in the domestic duck; or when we look at the
burrowing tucu-tucu, which is occasionally blind, and then at
certain moles, which are habitually blind and have their eyes
covered with skin; or when we look at the blind animals inhabiting the
dark caves of America and Europe. With varieties and species,
correlated variation seems to have played an important part, so that
when one part has been modified other parts have been necessarily
modified. With both parties and.species, reversions to long-lost
characters occasionally occur. How inexplicable on the theory of
creation is the occasional appearance of stripes on the shoulders
and legs of the several species of the horse-genus and of their
hybrids! How simply is this fact explained if we believe that these
species are all descended from a striped progenitor, in the same
manner as the several domestic breeds of the pigeon are descended
from the blue and barred rock-pigeon!
On the ordinary view of each species having been independently
created, why should specific characters, or those by which the species
of the same genus differ from each other, be more variable than
generic characters in which they all agree? Why, for instance,
should the colour of a flower be more likely to vary in any one
species of a genus, if the other species possess differently
coloured flowers, than if all possessed the same coloured flowers?
If species are only well-marked varieties, of which the characters
have become in a high degree permanent, we can understand this fact;
for they have already varied since they branched off from a common
progenitor in certain characters, by which they have come to be
specifically distinct from each other; therefore these same characters
would be more likely again to vary than the generic characters which
have been inherited without change for an immense period. It is
inexplicable on the theory of creation why a part developed in a
very unusual manner in species alone of a genus, and therefore, as
we may naturally infer, of great importance to that species, should be
eminently liable to variation; but, on our view, this part has
undergone, since the several species branched off from a common
progenitor, an unusual amount of variability and modification, and
therefore we might expect the part generally to be still variable. But
a part may be developed in the most unusual manner, like the wing of a
bat, and yet not be more variable than any other structure, if the
part be common to many subordinate forms, that is, if it has been
inherited for a very long period; for in this case, it will have
been rendered constant by long-continued natural selection.
Glancing at instincts, marvellous as some are, they offer no greater
difficulty than do corporeal structures on the theory of the natural
selection of successive slight, but profitable modifications. We can
thus understand why nature moves by graduated steps in endowing
different animals of the same class with their several instincts. I
have attempted to show how much light the principle of gradation
throws on the admirable architectural powers of the hive-bee. Habit no
doubt often comes into play in modifying instincts; but it certainly
is not indispensable, as we see in the case of neuter insects, which
leave no progeny to inherit the effects of long-continued habit. On
the view of all the species of the same genus having descended from
a common parent, and having inherited much in common, we can
understand how it is that allied species, when placed under widely
different conditions of life, yet follow nearly the same instincts;
why the thrushes of tropical and temperate South America, for
instance, line their nests with mud like our British species. On the
view of instincts having been slowly acquired through natural
selection, we need not marvel at some instincts being not perfect
and liable to mistakes, and at many instincts causing other animals to
suffer.
If species be only well-marked and permanent varieties, we can at
once see why their crossed offspring should follow the same complex
laws in their degrees and kinds of resemblance to their parents,- in
being absorbed into each other by successive crosses, and in other
such points,- as do the crossed offspring of acknowledged varieties.
This similarity would be a strange fact, if species had been
independently created and varieties had been produced through
secondary laws.
If we admit that the geological record is imperfect to an extreme
degree, then the facts, which the record does give, strongly support
the theory of descent with modification. New species have come on
the stage slowly and at successive intervals; and the amount of
change, after equal intervals of time, is widely different in
different groups. The extinction of species and of whole groups of
species which has played so conspicuous a part in the history of the
organic world almost inevitably follows from the principle of
natural selection; for old forms are supplanted by new and improved
forms. Neither single species nor groups of species reappear when
the chain of ordinary generation is once broken. The gradual diffusion
of dominant forms, with the slow modification of their descendants,
causes the forms of life, after long intervals of time, to appear as
if they had changed simultaneously throughout the world. The fact of
the fossil remains of each formation being in some degree
intermediate in character between the fossils in the formations
above and below, is simply explained by their intermediate position in
the chain of descent. The grand fact that all extinct beings can be
classed with all recent beings, naturally follows from the living
and the extinct being the offspring of common parents. As species have
generally diverged in character during their long course of descent
and modification, we can understand why it is that the more ancient
forms, or early progenitors of each group, so often occupy a
position in some degree intermediate between existing groups. Recent
forms are generally looked upon as being, on the whole, higher in
the scale of organisation than ancient forms; and they must be higher,
insofar as the later and more improved forms have conquered the
older and less improved forms in the struggle for life; they have also
generally had their organs more specialised for different functions.
This fact is perfectly compatible with numerous beings still retaining
simple and but little improved structures, fitted for simple
conditions of life; it is likewise compatible with some forms having
retrograded in organisation, by having become at each stage of descent
better fitted for new and degraded habits of life. Lastly, the
wonderful law of the long endurance of allied forms on the same
continent,- of marsupials in Australia, of Edentata in America, and
other such cases,- is intelligible, for within the same country the
existing and the extinct will be closely allied by descent.
Looking to geographical distribution, if we admit that there has
been during the long course of ages much migration from one part of
the world to another, owing to former climatal and geographical
changes and to the many occasional and unknown means of dispersal,
then we can understand, on the theory of descent with modification,
most of the great leading facts in Distribution. We can see why
there should be so striking a parallelism in the distribution of
organic beings throughout space, and in their geological succession
throughout time; for in both cases the beings have been connected by
the bond of ordinary generation, and the means of modification have
been the same. We see the full meaning of the wonderful fact, which
has struck every traveller, namely, that on the same continent,
under the most diverse conditions, under heat and cold, on mountain
and lowland, on deserts and marshes, most of the inhabitants within
each great class are plainly related; for they are the descendants
of the same progenitors and early colonists. On this same principle of
former migration, combined in most cases with modification, we can
understand, by the aid of the Glacial period, the identity of some few
plants, and the close alliance of many others, on the most distant
mountains, and in the northern and southern temperate zones; and
likewise the close alliance of some of the inhabitants of the sea in
the northern and southern temperate latitudes, though separated by the
whole intertropical ocean. Although two countries may present physical
conditions as closely similar as the same species ever require, we
need feel no surprise at their inhabitants being widely different,
if they have been for a long period completely sundered from each
other; for as the relation of organism to organism is the most
important of all relations, and as the two countries will have
received colonists at various periods and in different proportions,
from some other country or from each other, the course of modification
in the two areas will inevitably have been different.
On this view of migration, with subsequent modification, we see
why oceanic islands are inhabited by only few species, but of these,
why many are peculiar or endemic forms. We clearly see why species
belonging to those groups of animals which cannot cross wide spaces of
the ocean, as frogs and terrestrial mammals, do not inhabit oceanic
islands; and why, on the other hand, new and peculiar species of
bats, animals which can traverse the ocean, are found on islands far
distant from any continent. Such cases as the presence of peculiar
species of bats on oceanic islands and the absence of all other
terrestrial mammals, are facts utterly inexplicable on the theory of
independent acts of creation.
The existence of closely allied or representative species in any two
areas, implies, on the theory of descent with modification, that the
same parent-forms formerly inhabited both areas; and we almost
invariably find that wherever many closely allied species inhabit
two areas, some identical species are still common to both. Wherever
many closely allied yet distinct species occur, doubtful forms and
varieties belonging to the same groups likewise occur. It is a rule of
high generality that the inhabitants of each area are related to the
inhabitants of the nearest source whence immigrants might have been
derived. We see this in the striking relation of nearly all plants and
animals of the Galapagos Archipelago, of Juan Fernandez, and of the
other American islands, to the plants and animals of the
neighbouring American mainland; and of those of the Cape de Verde
Archipelago, and of the other African islands to the African mainland.
It must be admitted that these facts receive no explanation on the
theory of creation.
The fact, as we have seen, that all past and present organic
beings can be arranged within a few great classes, in groups
subordinate to groups, and with the extinct groups often falling in
between the recent groups, is intelligible on the theory of natural
selection with its contingencies of extinction and divergence of
character. On these same principles we see how it is, that the
mutual affinities of the forms within each class are so complex and
circuitous. We see why certain characters are far more serviceable
than others for classification;- why adaptive characters, though of
paramount importance to the beings, are of hardly any importance in
classification; why characters derived from rudimentary parts,
though of no service to the beings, are often of high classificatory
value; and why embryological characters are often the most valuable of
all. The real affinities of all organic beings, in contradistinction
to their adaptive resemblances, are due to inheritance or community of
descent. The Natural System is a genealogical arrangement, with the
acquired grades of difference, marked by the terms, varieties,
species, genera, families, &c.; and we have to discover the lines of
descent by the most permanent characters whatever they may be and of
however slight vital importance.
The similar framework of bones in the hand of a man, wing of a
bat, fin of the porpoise, and leg of the horse,- the same number of
vertebrae forming the neck of the giraffe and of the elephant,- and
innumerable other such facts, at once explain themselves on the theory
of descent with slow and slight successive modifications. The
similarity of pattern in the wing and in the leg of a bat, though used
for such different purpose,- in the jaws and legs of a crab,- in the
petals, stamens, and pistils of a flower, is likewise, to a large
extent, intelligible on the view of the gradual modification of
parts or organs, which were aboriginally alike in an early
progenitor in each of these classes. On the principle of successive
variations not always supervening at an early age, and being inherited
at a corresponding not early period of life, we clearly see why the
embryos of mammals, birds, reptiles, and fishes should be so closely
similar, and so unlike the adult forms. We may cease marvelling at the
embryo of an air-breathing mammal or bird having branchial slits and
arteries running in loops, like those of a fish which has to breathe
the air dissolved in water by the aid of well-developed branchiae.
Disuse, aided sometimes by natural selection, will often have
reduced organs when rendered useless under changed habits or
conditions of life; and we can understand on this view the meaning
of rudimentary organs. But disuse and selection will generally act
on each creature, when it has come to maturity and has to play its
full part in the struggle for existence, and will thus have little
power on an organ during early life; hence the organ will not be
reduced or rendered rudimentary at this early age. The calf, for
instance, has inherited teeth, which never cut through the gums of the
upper jaw, from an early progenitor having well-developed teeth; and
we may believe, that the teeth in the mature animal were formerly
reduced by disuse, owing to the tongue and palate, or lips, having
become excellently fitted through natural selection to browse
without their aid; whereas in the calf, the teeth have been left
unaffected, and on the principle of inheritance at corresponding
ages have been inherited from a remote period to the present day. On
the view of each organism with all its separate parts having been
specially created, how utterly inexplicable is it that organs
bearing the plain stamp of inutility, such as the teeth in the
embryonic calf or the shrivelled wings under the soldered wingcovers
of many beetles, should so frequently occur. Nature may be said to
have taken pains to reveal her scheme of modification, by means of
rudimentary organs, of embryological and homologous structures, but we
are too blind to understand her meaning.
I have now recapitulated the facts and considerations which have
thoroughly convinced me that species have been modified, during a long
course of descent. This has been effected chiefly through the
natural selection of numerous successive, slight, favourable
variations; aided in an important manner by the inherited effects of
the use and disuse of parts; and in an unimportant manner, that is
in relation to adaptive structures, whether past or present, by the
direct action of external conditions, and by variations which seem
to us in our ignorance to arise spontaneously. It appears that I
formerly underrated the frequency and value of these latter forms of
variation, as leading to permanent modifications of structure
independently of natural selection. But as my conclusions have
lately been much misrepresented, and it has been stated that I
attribute the modification of species exclusively to natural
selection, I may be permitted to remark that in the first edition of
this work, and subsequently, I placed in a most conspicuous
position- namely, at the close of the Introduction- the following
words: "I am convinced that natural selection has been the main but
not the exclusive means of modification." This has been of no avail.
Great is the power of steady misrepresentation; but the history of
science shows that fortunately this power does not long endure.
It can hardly be supposed that a false theory would explain, in so
satisfactory a manner as does the theory of natural selection, the
several large classes of facts above specified. It has recently been
objected that this is an unsafe method of arguing; but it is a
method used in judging of the common events of life, and has often
been used by the greatest natural philosophers. The undulatory
theory of light has thus been arrived at; and the belief in the
revolution of the earth on its own axis was until lately supported
by hardly any direct evidence. It is no valid objection that science
as yet throws no light on the far higher problem of the essence or
origin of life. Who can explain what is the essence of the
attraction of gravity? No one now objects to following out the
results consequent on this unknown element of attraction;
notwithstanding that Leibnitz formerly accused Newton of introducing
"occult qualities and miracles into philosophy."
I see no good reason why the views given in this volume should shock
the religious feelings of any one. It is satisfactory, as showing
how transient such impressions are, to remember that the greatest
discovery ever made by man, namely, the law of the attraction of
gravity, was also attacked by Leibnitz, "as subversive of natural, and
inferentially of revealed, religion." A celebrated author and divine
has written to me that "he has gradually learnt to see that it is
just as noble a conception of the Deity to believe that He created a
few original forms capable of self-development into other and
needful forms, as to believe that He required a fresh act of
creation to supply the voids caused by the action of His laws."
Why, it may be asked, until recently did nearly all the most eminent
living naturalists and geologists disbelieve in the mutability of
species? It cannot be asserted that organic beings in a state of
nature are subject to no variation; it cannot be proved that the
amount of variation in the course of long ages is a limited quality;
no clear distinction has been, or can be, drawn between species and
well-marked varieties. It cannot be maintained that species when
intercrossed are invariably sterile, and varieties invariably fertile;
or that sterility is a special endowment and sign of creation. The
belief that species were immutable productions was almost
unavoidable as long as the history of the world was thought to be of
short duration; and now that we have acquired some idea of the lapse
of time, we are too apt to assume, without proof, that the
geological record is so perfect that it would have afforded us plain
evidence of the mutation of species, if they had undergone mutation.
But the chief cause of our natural unwillingness to admit that one
species has given birth to clear and distinct species, is that we
are always slow in admitting great changes of which we do not see
the steps. The difficulty is the same as that felt by so many
geologists, when Lyell first insisted that long lines of inland cliffs
had been formed, and great valleys excavated, by the agencies which we
see still at work. The mind cannot possibly grasp the full meaning
of the term of even a million years; it cannot add up and perceive the
full effects of many slight variations, accumulated during an almost
infinite number of generations.
Although I am fully convinced of the truth of the views given in
this volume under the form of an abstract, I by no means expect to
convince experienced naturalists whose minds are stocked with a
multitude of facts all viewed, during a long course of years, from a
point of view directly opposite to mine. It is so easy to hide our
ignorance under such expressions as the "plan of creation" or "unity
of design," &c., and to think that we give an explanation when we only
restate a fact. Any one whose disposition leads him to attach more
weight to unexplained difficulties than to the explanation of a
certain number of facts will certainly reject the theory. A few
naturalists, endowed with much flexibility of mind, and who have
already begun to doubt the immutability of species, may be
influenced by this volume; but I look with confidence to the
future,- to young and rising naturalists, who will be able to view
both sides of the question with impartiality. Whoever is led to
believe that species are mutable will do good service by
conscientiously expressing his conviction; for thus only can the
load of prejudice by which this subject is overwhelmed be removed.
Several eminent naturalists have of late published their belief that
a multitude of reputed species in each genus are not real species; but
that other species are real, that is, have been independently
created. This seems to me a strange conclusion to arrive at. They
admit that a multitude of forms, which till lately they themselves
thought were special creations, and which are still thus looked at
by the majority of naturalists, and which consequently have all the
external characteristic features of true species,- they admit that
these have been produced by variation, but they refuse to extend the
same view to other and slightly different forms. Nevertheless they
do not pretend that they can define, or even conjecture, which are the
created forms of life, and which are those produced by secondary laws.
They admit variation as a vera causa in one case, they arbitrarily
reject it in another, without assigning any distinction in the two
cases. The day will come when this will be given as a curious
illustration of the blindness of preconceived opinion. These authors
seem no more startled at a miraculous act of creation than at an
ordinary birth. But do they really believe that at innumerable
periods in the earth's history certain elemental atoms have been
commanded suddenly to flash into living tissues? Do they believe
that at each supposed act of creation one individual or many were
produced? Were all the infinitely numerous kinds of animals and plants
created as eggs or seed, or as full grown? and in the case of mammals,
were they created bearing the false marks of nourishment from the
mother's womb? Undoubtedly some of these same questions cannot be
answered by those who believe in the appearance or creation of only
a few forms of life, or of some one form alone. It has been maintained
by several authors that it is as easy to believe in the creation of
a million beings as of one; but Maupertuis' philosophical axiom "of
least action" leads the mind more willingly to admit the smaller
number; and certainly we ought not to believe that innumerable
beings within each great class have been created with plain, but
deceptive, marks of descent from a single parent.
As a record of a former state of things, I have retained in the
foregoing paragraphs, and elsewhere, several sentences which imply
that naturalists believe in the separate creation of each species; and
I have been much censured for having thus expressed myself. But
undoubtedly this was the general belief when the first edition of
the present work appeared. I formerly spoke to very many naturalists
on the subject of evolution, and never once met with any sympathetic
agreement. It is probable that some did then believe in evolution, but
they were either silent, or expressed themselves so ambiguously that
it was not easy to understand their meaning. Now things are wholly
changed, and almost every naturalist admits the great principle of
evolution. There are, however, some who still think that species
have suddenly given birth, through quite unexplained means, to new and
totally different forms: but, as I have attempted to show, weighty
evidence can be opposed to the admission of great and abrupt
modifications. Under a scientific point of view, and as leading to
further investigation, but little advantage is gained by believing
that new forms are suddenly developed in an inexplicable manner from
old and widely different forms, over the old belief in the creation of
species from the dust of the earth.
It may be asked how far I extend the doctrine of the modification of
species. The question is difficult to answer, because the more
distinct the forms are which we consider, by so much the arguments
in favour of community of descent become fewer in number and less in
force. But some arguments of the greatest weight extend very far.
All the members of whole classes are connected together by a chain
of affinities, and all can be classed on the same principle, in groups
subordinate to groups. Fossil remains sometimes tend to fill up very
wide intervals between existing orders.
Organs in a rudimentary condition plainly show that an early
progenitor had the organ in a fully developed condition; and this in
some cases implies an enormous amount of modification in the
descendants. Throughout whole classes various structures are formed on
the same pattern, and at a very early age the embryos closely
resemble each other. Therefore I cannot doubt that the theory of
descent with modification embraces all the members of the same great
class or kingdom. I believe that animals are descended from at most
only four or five progenitors, and plants from an equal or lesser
number.
Analogy would lead me one step farther, namely, to the belief that
all animals and plants are descended from some one prototype. But
analogy may be a deceitful guide. Nevertheless all living things
have much in common, in their chemical composition, their cellular
structure, their laws of growth, and their liability to injurious
influences. We see this even in so trifling a fact as that the same
poison often similarly affects plants and animals; or that the
poison secreted by the gallfly produces monstrous growths on the
wild rose or oak-tree. With all organic beings excepting perhaps
some of the very lowest, sexual production seems to be essentially
similar. With all, as far as is at present known the germinal
vesicle is the same; so that all organisms start from a common origin.
If we look even to the two main divisions- namely, to the animal and
vegetable kingdoms- certain low forms are so far intermediate in
character that naturalists have disputed to which kingdom they
should be referred. As Professor Asa Gray has remarked, "The spores
and other reproductive bodies of many of the lower algae may claim
to have first a characteristically animal, and then an unequivocally
vegetable existence." Therefore, on the principle of natural selection
with divergence of character, it does not seem incredible that, from
such low and intermediate form, both animals and plants may have
been developed; and, if we admit this, we must likewise admit that all
the organic beings which have ever lived on this earth may be
descended from some one primordial form. But this inference is chiefly
grounded on analogy and it is immaterial whether or not it be
accepted. No doubt it is possible, as Mr. G. H. Lewes has urged,
that at the first commencement of life many different forms were
evolved; but if so we may conclude that only a very few have left
modified descendants. For, as I have recently remarked in regard to
the members of each great kingdom, such as the Vertebrata, Articulata,
&c., we have distinct evidence in their embryological homologous and
rudimentary structures that within each kingdom all the members are
descended from a single progenitor.
When the views advanced by me in this volume, and by Mr. Wallace, or
when analogous views on the origin of species are generally
admitted, we can dimly foresee that there will be a considerable
revolution in natural history. Systematists will be able to pursue
their labours as at present; but they will not be incessantly
haunted by the shadowy doubt whether this or that form be a true
species. This, I feel sure and I speak after experience, will be no
slight relief. The endless disputes whether or not some fifty
species of British brambles are good species will cease.
Systematists will have only to decide (not that this will be easy)
whether any form be sufficiently constant and distinct from other
forms, to be capable of definition; and if definable, whether the
differences be sufficiently important to deserve a specific name.
This latter point will become a far more essential consideration
than it is at present; for differences, however slight, between any
two forms if not blended by intermediate gradations, are looked at
by most naturalists as sufficient to raise both forms to the rank of
species.
Hereafter we shall be compelled to acknowledge that the only
distinction between species and well-marked varieties is, that the
latter are known, or believed, to be connected at the present day by
intermediate gradations, whereas species were formerly thus connected.
Hence, without rejecting the consideration of the present existence of
intermediate gradations between any two forms we shall be led to
weigh more carefully and to value higher the actual amount of
difference between them. It is quite possible that forms now generally
acknowledged to be merely varieties may hereafter be thought worthy of
specific names; and in this case scientific and common language will
come into accordance. In short, we shall have to treat species in
the same manner as those naturalists treat genera, who admit that
genera are merely artificial combinations made for convenience. This
may not be a cheering prospect; but we shall at least be free from the
vain search for the undiscovered and undiscoverable essence of the
term species.
The other and more general departments of natural history will
rise greatly in interest. The terms used by naturalists, of
affinity, relationship, community of type, paternity, morphology,
adaptive characters, rudimentary and aborted organs, &c., will cease
to be metaphorical, and will have a plain signification. When we no
longer look at an organic being as a savage looks at a ship, as
something wholly beyond his comprehension; when we regard every
production of nature as one which has had a long history; when we
contemplate every complex structure and instinct as the summing up
of many contrivances, each useful to the possessor, in the same way as
any great mechanical invention is the summing up of the labour, the
experience, the reason, and even the blunders of numerous workmen;
when we thus view each organic being, how far more interesting- I
speak from experience- does the study of natural history become!
A grand and almost untrodden field of inquiry will be opened, on the
causes and laws of variation, on correlation, on the effects of use
and disuse, on the direct action of external conditions, and so forth.
The study of domestic productions will rise immensely in value. A
new variety raised by man will be a more important and interesting
subject for study than one more species added to the infinitude of
already recorded species. Our classifications will come to be, as
far as they can be so made, genealogies; and will then truly give what
may be called the plan of creation. The rules for classifying will
no doubt become simpler when we have a definite object in view. We
possess no pedigrees or armorial bearings; and we have to discover
and trace the many diverging lines of descent in our natural
genealogies, by characters of any kind which have long been inherited.
Rudimentary organs will speak infallibly with respect to the nature of
long-lost structures. Species and groups of species which are called
aberrant, and which may fancifully be called living fossils, will
aid us in forming a picture of the ancient forms of life. Embryology
will often reveal to us the structure, in some degree obscured, of the
prototype of each great class.
When we feel assured that all the individuals of the same species,
and all the closely allied species of most genera, have within a not
very remote period descended from one parent, and have migrated from
some one birth-place; and when we better know the many means of
migration, then, by the light which geology now throws, and will
continue to throw, on former changes of climate and of the level of
the land, we shall surely be enabled to trace in an admirable manner
the former migrations of the inhabitants of the whole world. Even at
present, by comparing the differences between the inhabitants of the
sea on the opposite sides of a continent, and the nature of the
various inhabitants on that continent, in relation to their apparent
means of immigration, some light can be thrown on ancient geography.
The noble science of Geology loses glory from the extreme
imperfection of the record. The crust of the earth with its imbedded
remains must not be looked at as a well-filled museum, but as a poor
collection made at hazard and at rare intervals. The accumulation of
each great fossiliferous formation will be recognised as having
depended on an unusual concurrence of favourable circumstances, and
the blank intervals between the successive stages as having been of
vast duration. But we shall be able to gauge with some security the
duration of these intervals by a comparison of the preceding and
succeeding organic forms. We must be cautious in attempting to
correlate as strictly contemporaneous two formations, which do not
include many identical species, by the general succession of the forms
of life. As species are produced and exterminated by slowly acting and
still existing causes, and not by miraculous acts of creation; and
as the most important of all causes of organic change is one which
is almost independent of altered and perhaps suddenly altered physical
conditions, namely, the mutual relation of organism to organism,-
the improvement of one organism entailing the improvement or the
extermination of others; it follows, that the amount of organic change
in the fossils of consecutive formations probably serves as a fair
measure of the relative though not actual lapse of time. A number of
species, however, keeping in a body might remain for a long period
unchanged, whilst within the same period several of these species by
migrating into new countries and coming into competition with
foreign associates, might become modified; so that we must not
overrate the accuracy of organic change as a measure of time.
In the future I see open fields for far more important researches.
Psychology will be securely based on the foundation already well
laid by Mr. Herbert Spencer, that of the necessary acquirement of each
mental power and capacity by gradation. Much light will be thrown on
the origin of man and his history.
Authors of the highest eminence seem to be fully satisfied with
the view that each species has been independently created. To my
mind it accords better with what we know of the laws impressed on
matter by the Creator, that the production and extinction of the
past and present inhabitants of the world should have been due to
secondary causes, like those determining the birth and death of the
individual. When I view all beings not as special creations, but as
the lineal descendants of some few beings which lived long before
the first bed of the Cambrian system was deposited, they seem to me to
become ennobled. Judging from the past, we may safely infer that not
one living species will transmit its unaltered likeness to a distant
futurity. And of the species now living very few will transmit progeny
of any kind to a far distant futurity; for the manner in which all
organic beings are grouped, shows that the greater number of species
in each genus, and all the species in many genera, have left no
descendants, but have become utterly extinct. We can so far take a
prophetic glance into futurity as to foretell that it will be the
common and widely-spread species, belonging to the larger and dominant
groups within each class, which will ultimately prevail and
procreate new and dominant species. As all the living forms of life
are the lineal descendants of those which lived long before the
Cambrian epoch, we may feel certain that the ordinary succession by
generation has never once been broken, and that no cataclysm has
desolated the whole world. Hence we may look with some confidence to
secure future of great length. And as natural selection works solely
by and for the good of each being, all corporeal and mental endowments
will tend to progress towards perfection.
It is interesting to contemplate a tangled bank, clothed with many
plants of many kinds, with birds singing on the bushes, with various
insects flitting about, and with worms crawling through the damp
earth, and to reflect that these elaborately constructed forms, so
different from each other, and dependent upon each other in so complex
a manner, have all been produced by laws acting around us. These laws,
taken in the largest sense, being Growth with Reproduction;
Inheritance which is almost implied by reproduction; Variability
from the indirect and direct action of the conditions of life and from
use and disuse: a Ratio of Increase so high as to lead to a Struggle
for Life, and as a consequence to Natural Selection, entailing
Divergence of Character and the Extinction of less-improved forms.
Thus, from the war of nature, from famine and death, the most
exalted object which we are capable of conceiving, namely, the
production of the higher animals, directly follows. There is
grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been
originally breathed by the Creator into a few forms or into one; and
that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed
law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most
beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being evolved.
THE END
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