The Book that Upset Tennessee
November 24, 2014Title page of the 1859 edition of On the Origin of Species |
Charles Robert Darwin
(1809–1882). Origin of Species.
Vol. 11, pp. 23-30 of
The Harvard Classics
The signal for the
beginning of a great controversy, still raging,
was the publication
of Darwin's "Origin of Species." This was the first
complete statement of the evolution theory, which had been privately
advanced but never publicly taught. A new epoch in science dates from
this great work.
("Origin of
Species" published Nov. 24, 1859.)
I.
Variation under Domestication
Causes
of Variability
WHEN we compare the
individuals of the same variety or sub-variety of our older
cultivated plants and animals, one of the first points which strikes
us is, that they generally differ more from each other than do the
individuals of any one species or variety in a state of nature. And
if we reflect on the vast diversity of the plants and animals which
have been cultivated, and which have varied during all ages under the
most different climates and treatment, we are driven to conclude that
this great variability is due to our domestic productions having been
raised under conditions of life not so uniform as, and somewhat
different from, those to which the parent species had been exposed
under nature. There is, also, some probability in the view propounded
by Andrew Knight, that this variability may be partly connected with
excess of food. It seems clear that organic beings must be exposed
during several generations to new conditions to cause any great
amount of variation; and that, when the organisation has once begun
to vary, it generally continues varying for many generations. No case
is on record of a variable organism ceasing to vary under
cultivation. Our oldest cultivated plants, such as wheat, still yield
new varieties: our oldest, domesticated animals are still capable of
rapid improvement or modification.
As far as I am able to judge, after
long attending to the subject, the conditions of life appear to act
in two ways,—directly on the whole organisation or on certain parts
alone, and indirectly by affecting the reproductive system. With
respect to the direct action, we must bear in mind that in every
case, as Professor Weismann has lately insisted, and as I have
incidentally shown in my work on Variation under Domestication, there
are two factors: namely, the nature of the organism, and the nature
of the conditions. The former seems to be much the more important;
for nearly similar variations sometimes arise under, as far as we can
judge, dissimilar conditions; and, on the other hand, dissimilar
variations arise under conditions which appear to be nearly uniform.
The effects on the offspring are either definite or indefinite. They
may be considered as definite when all or nearly all the offspring of
individuals exposed to certain conditions during several generations
are modified in the same manner. It is extremely difficult to come to
any conclusion in regard to the extent of the changes which have been
thus definitely induced. There can, however, be little doubt about
many slight changes, such as size from the amount of food, colour
from the nature of the food, thickness of the skin and hair from
climate, &c. Each of the endless variations which we see in the
plumage of our fowls must have had some efficient cause; and if the
same cause were to act uniformly during a long series of generations
on. many individuals, all probably would be modified in the same
manner. Such facts as the complex and extraordinary out-growths which
variably follow from the insertion of a minute drop of poison by a
gall-producing insect, show us what singular modifications might
result in the case of plants from a chemical change in the nature of
the sap.
Indefinite variability is a much more
common result of changed conditions than definite variability, and
has probably played a more important part in the formation of our
domestic races. We see indefinite variability in the endless slight
peculiarities which distinguish the individuals of the same species,
and which cannot be accounted for by inheritance from either parent
or from some more remote ancestor. Even strongly marked differences
occasionally appear in the young of the same litter, and in seedlings
from the same seed-capsule. At long intervals of time, out of
millions of individuals reared in the same country and fed on nearly
the same food, deviations of structure so strongly pronounced as to
deserve to be called monstrosities arise; but monstrosities cannot be
separated by any distinct line from slighter variations. All such
changes of structure, whether extremely slight or strongly marked,
which appear amongst many individuals living together, may be
considered as the indefinite effects of the conditions of life on
each individual organism, in nearly the same manner as the chill
affects different men in an indefinite manner, according to their
state of body or constitution, causing coughs or colds, rheumatism,
or inflammation of various organs.
With respect to what I have called the
indirect action of changed conditions, namely, through the
reproductive system of being affected, we may infer that variability
is thus induced, partly from the fact of this system being extremely
sensitive to any change in the conditions, and partly from the
similarity, as Kreuter and others have remarked, between the
variability which follows from the crossing of distinct species, and
that which may be observed with plants and animals when reared under
new or unnatural conditions. Many facts clearly show how eminently
susceptible the reproductive system is to very slight changes in the
surrounding conditions. Nothing is more easy than to tame an animal,
and few things more difficult than to get it to breed freely under
confinement, even when the male and female unite. How many animals
there are which will not breed, though kept in an almost free state
in their native country! This is generally, but erroneously,
attributed to vitiated instincts. Many cultivated plants display the
utmost vigour, and yet rarely or never seed! In some few cases it has
been discovered that a very trifling change, such as a little more or
less water at some particular period of growth, will determine
whether or not a plant will produce seeds. I cannot here give the
details which I have collected and elsewhere published on this
curious subject; but to show how singular the laws are which
determine the reproduction of animals under confinement, I may
mention that carnivorous animals, even from the tropics, breed in
this country pretty freely under confinement, with the exception of
the plantigrades or bear family, which seldom produce young; whereas
carnivorous birds, with the rarest exceptions, hardly ever lay
fertile eggs. Many exotic plants have pollen utterly worthless, in
the same condition as in the most sterile hybrids. When, on the one
hand, we see domesticated animals and plants, though often weak and
sickly, breeding freely under confinement; and when, on the other
hand, we see individuals, though taken young from a state of nature
perfectly tamed, long-lived and healthy (of which I could give
numerous instances), yet having their reproductive system so
seriously affected by unperceived causes as to fail to act, we need
not be surprised at this system, when it does act under confinement,
acting irregularly, and producing offspring somewhat unlike their
parents. I may add, that as some organisms breed freely under the
most unnatural conditions (for instance, rabbits and ferrets kept in
hutches), showing that their reproductive organs are not easily
affected; so will some animals and plants withstand domestication or
cultivation, and vary very slightly—perhaps hardly more than in a
state of nature.
Some naturalists have maintained that
all variations are connected with the act of sexual reproduction; but
this is certainly an error; for I have given in another work a long
list of “sporting plants,” as they are called by gardeners;—that
is, of plants which have suddenly produced a single bud with a new
and sometimes widely different character from that of the other buds
on the same plant. These bud variations, as they may be named, can be
propagated by grafts, offsets, &c., and sometimes by seed. They
occur rarely under nature, but are far from rare under culture. As a
single bud out of the many thousands, produced year after year on the
same tree under uniform conditions, has been known suddenly to assume
a new character; and as buds on distinct trees, growing under
different conditions, have sometimes yielded nearly the same
variety—for instance, buds on peach-trees producing nectarines, and
buds on common roses producing moss-roses—we clearly see that the
nature of the conditions is of subordinate importance in comparison
with the nature of the organism in determining each particular form
of variation;—perhaps of not more importance than the nature of the
spark, by which a mass of combustible matter is ignited, has in
determining the nature of the flames.
Effects of Habit and of the Use or
Disuse of Parts; Correlated Variation; Inheritance
CHANGED habits produce an
inherited effect, as in the period of the flowering of plants when
transported from one climate to another. With animals the increased
use or disuse of parts has had a more marked influence; thus I find
in the domestic duck that the bones of the wing weigh less and the
bones of the leg more, in proportion to the whole skeleton, than do
the same bones in the wild-duck; and this change may be safely
attributed to the domestic duck flying much less, and walking more,
than its wild parents. The great and inherited development of the
udders in cows and goats in countries where they are habitually
milked, in comparison with these organs in other countries, is
probably another instance of the effects of use. Not one of our
domestic animals can be named which has not in some country drooping
ears; and the view which has been suggested that the drooping is due
to disuse of the muscles of the ear, from the animals being seldom
much alarmed, seems probable.
Many laws regulate variation, some few
of which can be dimly seen, and will hereafter be briefly discussed.
I will here only allude to what may be called correlated variation.
Important changes in the embryo or larva will probably entail changes
in the mature animal. In monstrosities, the correlations between
quite distinct parts are very curious; and many instances are given
in Isidore Geoffroy St-Hilaire’s great work on this subject.
Breeders believe that long limbs are almost always accompanied by an
elongated head. Some instances of correlation are quite whimsical:
thus cats which are entirely white and have blue eyes are generally
deaf; but it has been lately stated by Mr. Tait that this is confined
to the males. Colour and constitutional peculiarities go together, of
which many remarkable cases could be given amongst animals and
plants. From facts collected by Heusinger, it appears that white
sheep and pigs are injured by certain plants, whilst dark-coloured
individuals escape: Professor Wyman has recently communicated to me a
good illustration of this fact; on asking some farmers in Virginia
how it was that all their pigs were black, they informed him that the
pigs ate the paint-root (Lachnanthes), which coloured their bones
pink, and which caused the hoofs of all but the black varieties to
drop off; and one of the “crackers” (i.e., Virginia
squatters) added, “we select the black members of a litter for
raising, as they alone have a good chance of living.” Hairless dogs
have imperfect teeth; long-haired and coarse-haired animals are apt
to have, as is asserted, long or many horns; pigeons with feathered
feet have skin between their outer toes; pigeons with short beaks
have small feet, and those with long beaks large feet. Hence if man
goes on selecting, and thus augmenting, any peculiarity, he will
almost certainly modify unintentionally other parts of the structure,
owing to the mysterious laws of correlation.
The results of the various, unknown,
or but dimly understood laws of variation are infinitely complex and
diversified. It is well worth while carefully to study the several
treatises on some of our old cultivated plants, as on the hyacinth,
potato, even the dahlia, &c.; and it is really surprising to note
the endless points of structure and constitution in which the
varieties and sub-varieties differ slightly from each other. The
whole organisation seems to have become plastic, and departs in a
slight degree from that of the parental type.
Any variation which is not inherited
is unimportant for us. But the number and diversity of inheritable
deviations of structure, both those of slight and those of
considerable physiological importance, are endless. Dr. Prosper
Lucas’s treatise, in two large volumes, is the fullest and the best
on this subject. No breeder doubts how strong is the tendency to
inheritance; that like produces like is his fundamental belief:
doubts have been thrown on this principle only by theoretical
writers. When any deviation of structure often appears, and we see it
in the father and child, we cannot tell whether it may not be due to
the same cause having acted on both; but when amongst individuals,
apparently exposed to the same conditions, any very rare deviation,
due to some extraordinary combination of circumstances, appears in
the parent—say, once amongst several million individuals—and it
reappears in the child, the mere doctrine of chances almost compels
us to attribute its reappearance to inheritance. Every one must have
heard of cases of albinism, prickly skin, hairy bodies, &c.,
appearing in several members of the same family. If strange and rare
deviations of structure are really inherited, less strange and
commoner deviations may be freely admitted to be inheritable. Perhaps
the correct way of viewing the whole subject would be, to look at the
inheritance of every character whatever as the rule, and
non-inheritance as the anomaly?
The laws governing inheritance are for
the most part unknown. No one can say why the same peculiarity in
different individuals of the same species, or in different species,
is sometimes inherited and sometimes not so; why the child often
reverts in certain characters to its grandfather or grandmother or
more remote ancestor; why a peculiarity is often transmitted from one
sex to both sexes, or to one sex alone, more commonly but not
exclusively to the like sex. It is a fact of some importance to us,
that peculiarities appearing in the males of our domestic breeds are
often transmitted, either exclusively or in a much greater degree, to
the males alone. A much more important rule, which I think may be
trusted, is that, at whatever period of life a peculiarity first
appears, it tends to reappear in the offspring at a corresponding
age, though sometimes earlier. In many cases this could not be
otherwise; thus the inherited peculiarities in the horns of cattle
could appear only in the offspring when nearly mature; peculiarities
in the silkworm are known to appear at the corresponding caterpillar
or cocoon stage. But hereditary diseases and some other facts make me
believe that the rule has a wider extension, and that, when there is
no apparent reason why a peculiarity should appear at any particular
age, yet that it does tend to appear in the offspring at the same
period at which it first appeared in the parent. I believe this rule
to be of the highest importance in explaining the laws of embryology.
These remarks are of course confined to the first appearance of
the peculiarity, and not to the primary cause which may have acted on
the ovules or on the male element; in nearly the same manner as the
increased length of the horns in the offspring from a short-horned
cow by a long-horned bull, though appearing late in life, is clearly
due to the male element.
Having alluded to the subject of
reversion, I may here refer to a statement often made by
naturalists—namely, that our domestic varieties, when run wild,
gradually but invariably revert in character to their aboriginal
stocks. Hence it has been argued that no deductions can be drawn from
domestic races to species in a state of nature. I have in vain
endeavoured to discover on what decisive facts the above statement
has so often and so boldly been made. There would be great difficulty
in proving its truth: we may safely conclude that very many of the
most strongly marked domestic varieties could not possibly live in a
wild state. In many cases, we do not know what the aboriginal stock
was, and so could not tell whether or not nearly perfect reversion
had ensued. It would be necessary, in order to prevent the effects of
intercrossing, that only a single variety should have been turned
loose in its new home. Nevertheless, as our varieties certainly do
occasionally revert in some of their characters to ancestral forms,
it seems to me not improbable that if we could succeed in
naturalising, or were to cultivate, during many generations, the
several races, for instance, of the cabbage, in very poor soil (in
which case, however, some effect would have to be attributed to
the definite action of the poor soil), that they
would, to a large extent, or even wholly, revert to the wild
aboriginal stock. Whether or not the experiment would succeed, is not
of great importance for our line of argument; for by the experiment
itself the conditions of life are changed. If it could be shown that
our domestic varieties manifested a strong tendency to
reversion,—that is, to lose their acquired characters, whilst kept
under the same conditions, and whilst kept in a considerable body, so
that free intercrossing might check, by blending together, any slight
deviations in their structure, in such case, I grant that we could
deduce nothing from domestic varieties in regard to species. But
there is not a shadow of evidence in favour of this view: to assert
that we could not breed our cart and race horses, long and short
horned cattle, and poultry of various breeds, and esculent
vegetables, for an unlimited number of generations, would be opposed
to all experience.
0 comments