CHAPTER VIII THE FACTORS OF EVOLUTION

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Variation along definite lines and Natural Selection are undoubtedly important factors of evolution—?Whether or not sexual selection is a factor we are not yet in a position to decide—?Modus operandi of Natural Selection—?Correlation an important factor—?Examples of correlation—?Correlation is a subject that requires close study—?Isolation a factor in evolution—?Discriminate isolation—?Indiscriminate isolation—?Is the latter a factor?—?Romanes’ views—?Criticism of these—?Indiscriminate isolation shown to be a factor—?Summary of the methods in which new species arise—?Natural Selection does not make species—?It merely decides which of certain ready-made forms shall survive—?Natural Selection compared to a competitive examination and to a medical board—?We are yet in darkness as to the fundamental causes of the Origin of Species—?In experiment and observation rather than speculation lies the hope of discovering the nature of these causes.

We have so far considered three factors of evolution. The first of these is the tendency of organisms to vary along definite lines. This is a most important factor, because, unless variation occurs in any given direction, there can be no evolution in that direction. Variations are the materials upon which the other factors, or causes, of evolution work. The second great factor is natural selection. Natural selection may be compared to a builder, and variations to his materials. The kind of building that a builder can construct depends very largely on the material supplied to him. The Forth Bridge could not have been built had those who constructed it had no material given them but bricks and mortar. Wallaceians regard natural selection as a builder who is supplied with every kind of building material—stone, bricks, wood, iron, aluminium, in any quantities he may desire. They therefore regard natural selection as the one and only cause which determines evolution. This, however, is a wrong idea. Natural selection should rather be likened to a builder who is supplied with a limited variety of building materials, so that considerable restrictions are imposed on his building operations. The doors, windows, fireplaces, etc., are supplied to him ready-made. He merely selects which of these he will use for each building.

The third factor of evolution which we have considered is sexual selection. As we have seen, sufficient attention has not been paid to this subject, so that we are not yet in a position to say how much, if any, influence it has exercised on the course of evolution.

The Struggle for Existence

In addition to these three factors, there are, we believe, some others. Before proceeding to a consideration of these, it is important to study carefully the modus operandi of natural selection, or, in other words, the nature of the struggle for existence, as many of the statements contained in recent books on evolution seem to us to be based upon a mistaken conception of this important factor.

As usual, Darwin’s disciples have failed to improve upon the account he gave of the nature of the struggle for existence. This is set forth in Chapter III. of the Origin of Species.

“The causes,” writes Darwin (new edition, p. 83), “which check the natural tendency of each species to increase in number are most obscure. Look at the most vigorous species; by as much as it swarms in numbers, by so much will it tend to increase still further. We know not exactly what the checks are even in a single instance.” This is perfectly true. Nevertheless elaborate theories of protective and warning colouration and mimicry have been built up on the tacit assumption that the checks to the multiplication of all, or nearly all, species are the creatures which prey upon them. Possibly no Wallaceian asserts this in so many words, but it is a logical deduction from the excessive prominence each one gives to the various theories of animal colouration; for, if the chief foes of an organism are not the creatures which prey upon it, how can the particular shade and pattern of its coat be of such paramount importance to it?

Checks on Increase

We shall endeavour to show that there are checks on the increase of a species far more potent than the devastation caused by those creatures which feed upon it. Let us, however, first briefly set forth some of the checks on the multiplication of organisms which Darwin mentions in the Origin of Species.

“Eggs, or very young animals,” he says, “seem generally to suffer the most, but this is not invariably the case.” This is, as we have already insisted, a most important point to be borne in mind, especially when considering the various current theories of animal colouration. When once the average animal has become adult its chances of survival are enormously increased.

A second check mentioned by Darwin is the limitation of food supply. “The amount of food for each species,” he writes (p. 84), “of course gives the extreme limit to which each can increase; but very frequently it is not the obtaining food, but the serving as prey to other animals, which determines the average numbers of a species. Thus there seems to be little doubt that the stock of partridges, grouse, and hares on any large estate depends chiefly on the destruction of vermin. . . . On the other hand, in some cases, as with the elephant and rhinoceros, none are destroyed by beasts of prey.”

We are inclined to think that neither the food limit nor the beasts of prey are a very important check on the multiplication of organisms. The lion, for example, was never so numerous as to reach the limit of its food supply. Before the white man obtained a foothold in Africa vast herds of herbivores were to be seen in those districts where lions were most plentiful. This is a most important fact, for, if the numbers of a species are not determined by those of the animals that prey upon it, the particular colour of an organism is probably not of any direct importance to it. This cuts away the foundation of some of the generally accepted theories of animal colouration.

“Climate,” writes Darwin (p. 84), “plays an important part in determining the average numbers of a species, and periodical seasons of extreme cold or drought seem to be the most effective of all checks. I estimated (chiefly from the greatly reduced numbers of nests in the spring) that the winter of 1854-55 destroyed four-fifths of the birds in my own grounds, and this is a tremendous destruction when we remember that 10 per cent. is an extraordinarily severe mortality from epidemics with man.”

In our opinion, Darwin did not lay nearly enough stress upon the importance of climate as a check on the increase of species. We have seen that he stated his belief that it is the most effective of all checks. But even this is not a sufficiently strong statement of the case. It seems to us that before this check all other checks pale into insignificance.

Darwin failed to notice the potent effects of damp. Damp is more injurious to most species than even cold or drought, as every one who has tried to keep birds in England knows. All entomologists are aware how harmful damp is to insects. Caterpillars seem to take cover under leaves to avoid damp rather than to hide themselves from birds, since these make a point, when searching for insects, of invariably looking carefully under leaves.

It is a well-known fact that a wet winter in England causes much mortality among rabbits. The increase of the rabbit in Australia is usually attributed to the fact that the little rodent has not so many predatory creatures to contend with there as it has in Europe. This is not so. In Australia the rabbit has to fight against eagles, other large birds of prey, carnivorous marsupials, feral cats, monitor lizards and large snakes, to say nothing of the well-organised and persistent attacks of man.

Were predacious creatures the most important foes of the rabbit it would never have obtained a firm foothold in Australia. Damp appears to be its chief enemy. In Australia this does not exist. Hence the remarkable increase of the species. Stronger evidence it would not be possible to advance of the potency of damp as a check on the increase of a species and of the comparative powerlessness of the attacks of raptorial creatures.

The failure of the sandgrouse to establish a footing in England is, we believe, due to the fact that it is constitutionally unfitted to withstand our damp climate.

The camel is an animal that revels in dry habitats, hence the difficulty of keeping camels in damp Bengal, although they seem to thrive well enough in the drier parts of India.

“When a species,” writes Darwin (p. 86), “owing to highly favourable circumstances, increases inordinately in numbers in a small tract, epidemics—at least, this seems generally to occur with our game animals—often ensue; and here we have a limiting check independent of the struggle for life. But even some of these so-called epidemics appear to be due to parasitic worms, which have from some cause, possibly in part through facility of diffusion amongst the crowded animals, been disproportionately favoured: and here comes in a sort of struggle between the parasite and its prey.”

Thus inadequately does Darwin deal with that bar to the increase of organisms, which is only second in importance to the effect of climate. The check occasioned by disease and parasites is one to which naturalists have as yet paid but little attention. The result is a very general misunderstanding of the true nature of the struggle for existence, in other words, of the modus operandi of natural selection.

The tsetse-fly in Africa is a far more important check on the increase of some animals than the lions and other beasts of prey. There are in that continent large tracts of country, known as tsetse-fly belts, in which neither horse, nor ox, nor dog can exist. If races of these animals were to arise which could withstand the bite of the tsetse-fly, these species might increase more rapidly than the rabbit in Australia has done, nor would it matter if the creatures in question were bright crimson, or any other conspicuous colour.

Take the case of the lion in Africa. The chief bar to the increase in numbers of this species appears to be the teething troubles to which the whelps are liable. Now suppose that a mutation were to occur in the lion. Suppose that several members of a litter were all bright blue, and that these suffered from no teething troubles. They would probably all grow up, and although at some disadvantage as hunters on account of their conspicuous colouring, they would nevertheless probably increase at the expense of the normally coloured lions, because of the immunity of their offspring from death from teething troubles. Zoologists would then be at a loss to explain their bright colouring. We should have all manner of ingenious suggestions raised, namely, that in the moonlight these creatures were really not at all conspicuous, indeed that they were obliteratively coloured. In other words, a totally wrong explanation of their colouring would be given and accepted. It is our belief that many of the explanations put forward and accepted of the colouration of existing species are wide of the mark.

As all bee-keepers are aware, the disease known as foul-brood works more havoc among their bees than all the insectivorous creatures put together.

Similarly throat disease among wood-pigeons does more towards keeping their numbers down than all the efforts of predacious birds.

A check on multiplication not mentioned by Darwin is that which is sometimes imposed by the individuals of the species on one another. Thus, in some animals, as, for example, the hyÆna, the male occasionally devours his own young ones.

A check of a similar nature results from the habit which the Indian House Crow (Corvus splendens) has of interrupting the pairing operations of its neighbours.

Attributes of Successful Species

We are now in a position to sum up briefly the more important requisites for success in the struggle for existence.

These are not so much specialised structure as courage, a good constitution, mental capacity and prolificacy.

Few animals possess all these characteristics in a pre-eminent degree, for, to use the words of Mr Thompson Seton, “Every animal has some strong point or it could not live, and some weak point or the other animals could not live.” Courage may be of two kinds—active courage, like that of the Englishman, or passive courage, like that of the Jew.

As D. Dewar has said: In the struggle for existence, “An ounce of good solid pugnacity is worth many pounds of protective colouration.”

It is of course possible for an animal to possess too much courage. An excessive amount of courage will often cause a creature to fight unnecessary battles, which may lead to its premature death. This is perhaps the reason why the pugnacious black form of the leopard is not more numerous.

Under a good constitution we must include the power of resisting the rigours of climate, more especially damp, the ability to resist disease, and the enjoyment of a good digestion. When from any cause the normal food of a species becomes scarce, the members of that species will have to starve or supplement the normal diet with food of an unusual nature; and those that are endowed with a good digestion will be able to digest the new food and thus survive, while those which cannot assimilate food to which they are unaccustomed will become emaciated and perish. We see this in every hard winter in England, when the redwing, which, unlike other thrushes, cannot thrive on berries, is the first to die. Most of the more successful birds—the crows and gulls, for example—are omnivorous—that is to say, they are able to digest all manner of food.

Under mental capacity, we would include cunning and sufficient intelligence to adapt oneself to changed conditions. It is largely through man’s superior mental capacity that he has become the dominant species. It is true that he displays also courage and a good constitution, being able to adapt himself to life under the most diverse conditions; but this is, of course, in part due to his mental capacity, which enables him to some extent to adapt his environment to himself.

The advantages of prolificacy are so apparent that it is unnecessary to dilate upon them. Nearly as important as excessive fertility is the ability on the part of the parents to look after their young ones.

Every successful species possesses in a special degree at least one of the above attributes. It is interesting to take in turn the various species which are most widely distributed and consider to what extent they possess these several qualities.

Let us now consider a factor in evolution which is nearly as important as natural selection itself—we allude to the phenomenon of correlation.

Correlation

We may define correlation as the interdependence of two or more characters. This phenomenon is far more common than the majority of naturalists seem to think. It very frequently happens that one particular character never appears in an organism without being accompanied by some other character which we should not expect to be in any way related to it.

Darwin called attention to this phenomenon. “In monstrosities,” he writes, on page 13 of the Origin of Species (new edition), “the correlations between quite different parts are very curious, and many interesting 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 among animals and plants. From the 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 the correlation of growth.”

The great importance of the principle of the correlation of organs is, that natural selection may indirectly cause the survival of unfavourable variations, or of variations which are of no utility to the organism, because they happen to be correlated with organs or structures that are useful.

Physiologists insist more and more upon the close interdependence of the various parts of the organism. All recent researches tend to show that each of the organs has, besides its primary function, a number of subordinate duties to perform, and that the removal of one organ reacts on all the others.

In face of these facts we should have expected those zoologists who have followed Darwin to have paid very close attention to the subject of correlation. As a matter of fact, the phenomenon seems to have been almost completely neglected. This is an example of the manner in which the superficial theories which to-day command wide acceptance have tended to bar the way to research.

There seems to be, in the case of some organisms, at any rate, a distinct correlation between their colouring and their constitution or mental characters. For example, the black forms of the cobra, the leopard, and the jaguar are notoriously bad-tempered.

“There is,” writes Col. Cunningham, on p. 344 of Some Indian Friends and Acquaintances, “much variation in the temper of different varieties of cobras, and, as is often so noticeable among other sorts of animals, there would seem to be a distinct correlation between darkness of colour and badness of temper. It is probably in part owing to a recognition of this that the cobras ordinarily seen in the hands of the so-called snake charmers are of a very light colour, although the choice may also be to some extent of Æsthetic origin, seeing that the paler varieties are specially ornamental, due to the brilliancy of their markings and the great development of their hoods.” It would thus appear that there is also a correlation between the colour of the cobra and the size of its hood.

Hesketh Pritchard informs us, in Through the Heart of Patagonia, that the Gauchos assert that a “picaso” colt—that is to say, a black one with white points—is the reverse of docile. Similarly, black mice are said to be very hard to tame.

We have already called attention to the importance of courage and the power of resisting the rigours of climate in the struggle for existence. It is apparently because black is so frequently correlated with courage that it is seen comparatively often in nature, in spite of the fact that it is a very bad colour as regards protection from enemies. Those birds and beasts which are black are usually thriving species. The dominance of the crow tribe is a case in point. Crows, it is true, are not really courageous, but they are dangerous owing to their gregarious habits, and are dreaded by other creatures on account of their power of combination. In Birds of the Plains, D. Dewar records an instance of a number of crows killing in revenge so powerful a bird as the kite.

Since very many species seem to throw off melanistic variations, it may perhaps be asked, How is it that more black species do not exist?

The reply is twofold. In the first place, it is quite likely that in some organisms black variations are not correlated with courage or extreme pugnacity, and when such is the case the melanistic varieties will be more likely to be exterminated by foes, on account of their conspicuousness. It must be remembered that, other things being equal, the inconspicuously coloured organism has a better chance of survival than the showily coloured one. This is, of course, a very different attitude from that which insists on the all-importance to animals of protective colouration. Secondly, it is not difficult to see how too much courage may be fatal to an animal in leading it to take risks which a more timid creature would refrain from doing. This, as we have already suggested, is probably the reason why the black panther is so scarce. The black colour is readily inherited, so there must be some cause which tends to kill off the black varieties of the panther.

Lest it be thought the idea that excessive courage and pugnacity are harmful is mere fancy, let us quote from the account of the nesting habits of the White-rumped Swallow (Tachycineta leucorrhoa) given by Mr W. H. Hudson on p. 32 of Argentine Ornithology. He says that no matter how many nesting sites are available, there is always much fighting amongst these birds for the best places. “Most vindictively,” he writes, “do the little things clutch each other, and fall to the earth twenty times an hour, where they often remain struggling for a long time, heedless of the screams of alarm their fellows set up above them; for often, while they thus lie on the ground punishing each other, they fall an easy prey to some wily pussy who has made herself acquainted with their habits.”

We have already emphasised the importance to many species of possessing the power of resisting the effects of damp. In the case of some organisms favourable variations in this direction may possess a greater survival value than those in the shape of greater speed or physical strength.

Now, if there be any correlation between the power of resisting damp and the colour an animal bears, it is quite probable that animals of this colour, whether or no it be conspicuous, are likely to survive in preference to those who are more protectively coloured. There is some evidence that in certain cases, at any rate, resistance to climate is correlated with colour peculiarities. For example, some fanciers assert that yellow-legged poultry resist cold and damp better than those whose legs are not yellow. Fowls which have yellow legs have also yellow skins. In this connection the almost universal assumption of orange feet by domestic guinea-fowls is significant. Normally the feet of these birds are black, and their natural African habitat is a dry one.

A grey or white colour appears to be correlated with resistance to cold. In birds this may perhaps be explained by the fact that the feathers in some light-coloured varieties are longer than in those of normally-coloured ones. Thus mealy-coloured canaries have longer feathers than brightly-coloured ones.

The Arctic Skua, having no enemies to fear, stands in no need of protective colouration. It would therefore seem that the white-breasted form of this bird becomes more numerous as it nears the north pole, not because of the closer assimilation of its plumage to the colour of the snowy surroundings, but because the bird has to resist the greater degree of cold the farther north it finds itself. Similarly, in the region of the south pole the albino form of the Giant Petrel (Ossifraga gigantea) becomes common. Both these birds are themselves predatory and not liable to be preyed upon.

The curious china-white legs of some desert birds—as, for example, coursers and larks—would seem to indicate a power of resisting the hot rays radiating from the sand on which these creatures dwell.

White quills do not wear well either in domestic birds or in wild albinos. This may explain why it is that when a white wild species of bird has any black in its plumage the black is almost invariably on the tips of the wings.

White quill-feathers are one of the commonest variations observed in domesticated birds, nevertheless they are as rare as complete whiteness among birds in their natural state.

A chestnut or bay colour in mammals appears to be correlated with a high rate of speed, as in the thoroughbred horse. This perhaps explains why so many of the swiftest species of antelope, such as the hartebeests and sassaby (Damaliscus lunatus), are chestnut bay in colour. It is further a remarkable fact that in the Black-buck (Antilope cervicapra) and the Nilgai (Boselaphus tragocamelus) the females, which are faster than the males, are not black or grey like their respective males, but reddish.

Wild turkeys are bronze; tame ones are black more often than any other colour. This may be due to the fact that in them nigritude is correlated with the power to resist damp. Among human beings those races which live in very swampy districts are often intensely black.

It is a significant fact that those domestic animals which are bred for speed or for fighting purposes do not assume all the varied hues that characterise those that are allowed to breed indiscriminately. Racehorses, greyhounds, and homing pigeons furnish examples of this. Even more remarkable is the case of the Indian Aseel or game-cock. This is bred purely for fighting purposes, and is required to display extraordinary powers of endurance, since the spurs are cut off in order to prolong the fight. Thus it is that this Indian race of game-cocks shows little variation when compared with the English breed, which fights in a more natural manner. The hens of the Indian form seem never to show the colouration of the wild jungle fowl, although the cocks may do so. It would appear that hens having the colouration of their wild ancestors cannot breed cocks possessed of the requisite courage. The Aseel is said to be of the highest courage only when the legs, beak and iris are white.

There is, we believe, not the least doubt that many other connections between colour and various characteristics have yet to be discovered. It is high time that competent naturalists paid attention to this subject. A study of the question will almost certainly throw much light upon many phenomena of animal colouration which hitherto have not been satisfactorily explained. It is quite likely that the sandy hue displayed by birds and beasts which frequent desert regions may be due to a correlation with the power of withstanding intense dry heat rather than to its rendering them inconspicuous to their foes.

As other examples of correlation we may cite the correlation which seems to obtain between short canine teeth and the absence of a hairy covering to the body. This phenomenon is observed both in men and pigs. Hairless dogs almost invariably have their teeth but poorly developed.

Darwin called attention to the connection between a short beak and small feet in pigeons; we see the same phenomenon in the dwarf breed of ducks known as call-ducks.

A curious correlation exists between fowls’ eggs with brown shells and the incubating habit. Fanciers have long tried in vain to produce a hen that lays brown eggs without becoming “broody” at certain seasons.

Among fowls, long legs are invariably correlated with a short tail, as is well seen in the Malay breed. This correlation may explain the short tails of wading birds. Short-legged fowls, like Japanese bantams, have long tails, and it is significant that the short-legged Weka Rails (Ocydromus) of New Zealand have unusually long tails for the family. In this connection we may say that the tail-like plumes of the cranes are not tail-feathers, but the tertiary feathers of the wings. As egrets also have long trains of plumes growing from the back, it cannot be said that the short tail of the vast majority of the waders is due to the fact that these birds would be at a disadvantage were their caudal feathers long.

Isolation is a most important factor in the making of species. It is a factor to which Darwin failed to attach sufficient importance, and one which has been to a large extent neglected by Wallaceians.

Divergence of Character

We have seen how a species can be improved or changed by natural selection. All those individuals which have varied in a favourable direction have been preserved, and allowed to leave behind them offspring that inherit their peculiarities, while those which have not so varied have perished without leaving behind any descendants. Thus the nature of the species has changed. The old type has given place to a new one. Instead of species A, species B exists. This is what Romanes has called monotypic evolution—the transformation of one species into another species. But any theory of the origin of species must be able to answer the question, Why have species multiplied? How is it that species A has given rise to species B, C, and D, or, while itself continuing to exist, has thrown off sister species B and C? How is it that in the course of evolution, species have not been transmuted in linear series instead of ramifying into branches? This ramification of a species into branches has been termed by Romanes polytypic evolution. It is easy to see how natural selection can bring about monotypic evolution, but how can it have effected polytypic evolution? To use Darwin’s phraseology, how is it that divergence of character has come about? Darwin’s reply to this question is (Origin of Species, p. 136), “from the simple circumstance that the more diversified the descendants from any one species become in structure, constitution, and habits, by so much will they be better enabled to seize on many and widely diversified places in the polity of nature, and so be enabled to increase in numbers.

“We can clearly discern this in the case of animals with simple habits. Take the case of a carnivorous quadruped, of which the number that can be supported in any country has long ago arrived at its full average. If its natural power of increase be allowed to act, it can succeed in increasing (the country not undergoing any change in its conditions) only by its varying descendants seizing on places at present occupied by other animals: some of them, for instance, being enabled to feed on new kinds of prey, either dead or alive; some inhabiting new stations, climbing trees, frequenting water, and some perhaps becoming less carnivorous. The more diversified in habits and structure the descendants of our carnivorous animal become, the more places they will be enabled to occupy. What applies to one animal will apply throughout all time to all animals—that is, if they vary—for otherwise natural selection can effect nothing.” Darwin was, therefore, of opinion that natural selection is able to bring about polytypic evolution. Darwin tacitly assumes, in the illustration he gives, that the various races of the carnivorous animal are in some way prevented from intercrossing; for if they interbreed indiscriminately, these races will tend to be obliterated.

Isolation

“That perfectly free intercrossing,” writes Professor Lloyd Morgan (on p. 98 of Animal Life and Intelligence), “between any or all of the individuals of a given group of animals is, so long as the characters of the parents are blended in the offspring, fatal to divergence of character, is undeniable. Through the elimination of less favourable variations, the swiftness, strength, and cunning of a race may be gradually improved. But no form of elimination can possibly differentiate the group into swift, strong, and cunning varieties, distinct from each other, so long as all three varieties freely interbreed, and the characters of the parents blend with the offspring. Elimination may and does give rise to progress in any given group, as a group; it does not and cannot give rise to differentiation and divergence, so long as interbreeding with consequent interblending of characters be freely permitted. Whence it inevitably follows, as a matter of simple logic, that where divergence has occurred, intercrossing and interbreeding must in some way have been lessened or prevented.

“Thus a new factor is introduced, that of isolation or segregation. And there is no questioning the fact that it is of great importance. Its importance, indeed, can only be denied by denying the swamping effects of intercrossing, and such denial implies the tacit assumption that interbreeding and interblending are held in check by some form of segregation. The isolation explicitly denied is implicitly assumed.”

This is very sound criticism, and is not very materially affected by the fact that the intercrossing of varieties does not necessarily imply a blending of their characters in the offspring; for, as we have seen, some characters do not blend. No matter what form inheritance takes, in order that natural selection may cause polytypic evolution it must be assisted by isolation in some form or other.

Thus isolation is an important factor in evolution, though probably not so important as its more extreme advocates would have us believe. Wagner, Romanes, and Gulick have, in insisting upon the importance of the principle of isolation, rendered valuable service to biological science, but, in common with most men having a new theory, they have pushed their conclusions to absurd lengths.

As Romanes has pointed out, isolation may be discriminate or indiscriminate. “If,” he writes, on p. 5 of vol. iii. of Darwin and after Darwin, “a shepherd divides a flock of sheep without regard to their characters, he is isolating one section from the other indiscriminately; but if he places all the white sheep in one field, and all the black sheep in another field, he is isolating one section from the other discriminately. Or, if geological subsidence divides a species into two parts, the isolation will be indiscriminate; but if the separation be due to one of the sections developing, for example, a change of instinct determining migration to another area, or occupation of a different habitat on the same area, then the isolation will be discriminate, so far as the resemblance of instinct is concerned.”

Discriminate Isolation

Other names for indiscriminate isolation are separate breeding and apogamy. Discriminate isolation is also called segregate breeding and homogamy. The human breeder resorts to discriminate isolation in that he separates all those creatures from which he seeks to breed, from those from which he does not wish to breed. Natural selection itself is, therefore, a kind of discriminate isolator, since it isolates the fit by destroying all the unfit, and, inasmuch as it kills off all those creatures which it fails to isolate, it differs from other forms of isolation in preventing the inter-breeding of the unisolated forms and their giving rise to a different race. Thus it is clear that natural selection, unless aided by some other form of isolation, can give effect to only monotypic evolution. This is a point on which Romanes rightly insists strongly.

There are several other forms of discriminate isolation. Sexual selection would be one of these. Suppose, for example, that in any species there are large and small varieties formed, and like tends to breed with like, then the small individuals will breed with other small individuals, while large ones will mate with large ones; thus two races—a large one and a small one—will be evolved side by side, provided, of course, natural selection does not step in and destroy one of them.

Another kind of discriminate isolation may be due to the fact that one variety is ready to pair before the other; thus two races are likely to arise which breed at different seasons. It is unnecessary for us to discourse further on the subject of discriminate isolation; those interested in the subject should read vol. iii. of Darwin and after Darwin, by Romanes.

Indiscriminate Isolation

It is impossible to deny the importance of discriminate isolation as a factor in evolution. On this there can be no room for disagreement among biologists. It is when we come to the subject of indiscriminate isolation that we enter a region of zoological strife.

Is indiscriminate isolation per se a factor of evolution? Romanes, Gulick, and Wagner assert that it is, Wallace and his adherents assert that it is not.

As the burden of proof is on the former, they are entitled to the first hearing.

“We may well be disposed, at first sight,” writes Romanes (Darwin and after Darwin, p. 10), “to conclude that this kind of isolation can count for nothing in the process of evolution. For if the fundamental importance of isolation in the production of organic forms be due to its segregation of like with like, does it not follow that any form of isolation which is indiscriminate must fail to supply the very condition on which all the forms of discriminate isolation depend for their efficacy in the causing of organic evolution? Or, to return to one’s concrete example, is it not self-evident that the farmer who separated his flock into two or more parts indiscriminately, would not effect any more change in his stock than if he had left them all to breed together? Well, although at first sight this seems self-evident, it is, in fact, untrue. For, unless the individuals which are indiscriminately isolated happen to be a very large number, sooner or later their progeny will come to differ from that of the parent type, or unisolated portion of the parent stock. And, of course, as soon as this change of type begins, the isolation ceases to be indiscriminate; the previous apogamy has been converted into homogamy, with the usual result of causing a divergence of type. The reason why progeny of an indiscriminately isolated section of an originally uniform stock—e.g. of a species—will eventually deviate from the original type is, to quote Mr Gulick, as follows:—‘No two portions of a species possess exactly the same average character, and the initial differences are for ever reacting on the environment and on each other, in such a way as to ensure increasing divergence as long as the individuals of the two groups are kept from intergenerating.’”

The words of Mr Gulick require close scrutiny. We may admit that “no two portions of a species possess exactly the same average character,” but why should the two, if prevented from interbreeding yet subjected to similar climatic and other conditions, present the phenomenon of “increasing divergence?” The reason assigned by Romanes is the “Law” of Delboeuf, which runs:—“A constant cause of variation, however insignificant it may be, changes the uniformity of type little by little, and diversifies it ad infinitum.” From this “Law” it follows, says Romanes, on p. 13 of vol. iii. Darwin and after Darwin, that “no matter how infinitesimally small the difference may be between the average qualities of an isolated section of a species compared with the average qualities of the rest of that species, if the isolation continues sufficiently long, differentiation of specific type is necessarily bound to ensue.”

This deduction involves two important assumptions. The first is, that in each of the separated portions of the given species there is a constant cause of variation operating in one direction in the case of one portion and in another direction in the case of the other. This assumption is, unfortunately, not founded on fact. If we were to take one hundred race-horses and shut them up in one park and one hundred cart-horses and shut them up in another park, and prevent the interbreeding of the two stocks, we should, if Romanes’s tacit assumption be true, see the two types diverge more and more from one another. We know that as a matter of fact they will tend, generation after generation, to become more like one another. Galton’s Law of Regression, of which we have already spoken, and which is supported by ample evidence, clearly negatives this tacit assumption made by Romanes and Gulick. The second assumption upon which their reasoning is based is that there is no limit to the amount of change which can be effected by the accumulation of fluctuating variations; but, as we have already seen (on p. 70), there is a very definite limit and this limit is quickly reached.

Thus the arguments of Romanes and Gulick are fundamentally unsound.

Mollusca of Sandwich Isles

But the fact remains, and has to be accounted for, that, as a general rule, when two portions of a species are separated, so that they are prevented from interbreeding, they begin to diverge in character, and the longer they remain thus separated the greater becomes that divergence. This is an observed fact which cannot be gainsaid.

It was the observance of this fact which led Gulick to insist with such emphasis on the importance of geographical isolation as a factor in evolution. He discovered that the land mollusca of the Sandwich Islands fall into a great number of varieties.

These islands are very hilly, and Gulick found that each of the varieties is confined not merely to one island, but to one valley. “Moreover,” writes Romanes, on p. 16 of Darwin and after Darwin, “on tracing this fauna from valley to valley, it is apparent that a slight variation in the occupants of valley 2, as compared with those of the adjacent valley 1, becomes more pronounced in the next, valley 3, still more so in 4, etc., etc. Thus it was possible, as Mr Gulick says, roughly to estimate the amount of divergence between the occupants of any two given valleys by measuring the number of miles between them. . . . The variations which affect scores of species, and themselves eventually run into fully specific distinctions, are all more or less finely graduated as they pass from one isolated region to the next; and they have reference to changes of form or colour, which in no one case presents any appearance of utility.”

Hitherto three different attempts have been made to explain this and allied phenomena:—

1. That it is the result of isolation.

2. That it is the result of natural selection.

3. That it is the result of the action of the environment on the organism.

Let us consider these in inverse order.

Local Species

In the case of some organisms, more especially plants, invertebrates, and fish, the environment does exert a direct influence on their colouration. But, as we have seen, the changes in colour, etc., thus induced appear never to be transmitted to the offspring of the organisms so affected. They disappear when the offspring are removed to other surroundings.

On the other hand, local races or species—as, for example, the white-cheeked variety of sparrow found in India—usually retain their external appearance when the environment is changed. In the one case the peculiarity is not inherited; in the other it is inherited.

The Wallaceian explanation is, of course, that the phenomenon is the result of natural selection. There must, say Wallace and his followers, be some differences in the environment, differences which we poor human beings cannot perceive, that have caused the divergence between the various isolated sections of the species. In the case of some local species this explanation is probably the correct one, but we have no hesitation in saying that natural selection is unable to offer a satisfactory explanation in a considerable number of instances. Take, for example, the case of the land mollusca of the Sandwich Islands. Mr Gulick worked for fifteen years at them, and states that so far as he is able to ascertain the environment in the fifteen valleys is essentially the same. “To argue,” writes Romanes, on p. 17 of vol. iii. of Darwin and after Darwin, “that every one of some twenty contiguous valleys in the area of the same small island must necessarily present such differences of environment that all the shells in each are differently modified thereby, while in no one out of the hundreds of cases of modification in minute respects of form and colour can any human being suggest an adaptive reason therefore—to argue thus is merely to affirm an intrinsically improbable dogma in the presence of a great and consistent array of opposing facts.”

Men of science not infrequently charge the clergy with adhering to dogma in face of opposing facts; it seems to us that many of the apostles of science are in this respect worse offenders than the most orthodox of Churchmen.

The example of the mollusca of the Sandwich Islands is by no means a solitary one. D. Dewar cited some interesting cases in a paper recently read before the Royal Society of Arts (p. 103 of vol. lvii. of the Society’s Journal):

“The Indian robins present even greater difficulties to those who profess to pin their faith to the all-sufficiency of natural selection. Robins are found in nearly all parts of India, and fall into two species, the brown-backed (Thamnobia cambaiensis) and the black-backed Indian Robin (Thamnobia fulicata). The former occurs only in Northern India, and the latter is confined to the southern portion of the peninsula. The hen of each species is a sandy brown bird with a patch of brick-red feathers under the tail, so that we cannot tell by merely looking at a hen to which of the two species she belongs. The cock of the South Indian form is, in winter, a glossy black bird, with a white bar in the wing, and the characteristic red patch under the tail. The cock of the northern species, as his name implies, has a sandy-brown back, which contrasts strongly with the glossy black of his head, neck, and under parts. In summer the cocks of the two species grow more like one another owing to the wearing away of the outer edges of their feathers; but it is always possible to distinguish between them at a glance. The two species meet at about the latitude of Bombay. Oates states that in a certain zone, from Ahmednagar to the mouth of the Godaveri valley, both species occur, and they do not appear to interbreed.

“It seems impossible to maintain that natural selection, acting on minute variations, has brought about the divergence between these two species. Even if it be asserted that the difference in the colour of the feathers of the back of the two cocks is in some way correlated with adaptability to their particular environment, how are we to explain the fact that in a certain zone both species flourish?

“A similar phenomenon is furnished by the red-vented bulbul. This genus falls into several species, each corresponding to a definite locality and differing only in details from the allied species, as, for example, the distance down the neck to which the black of the head extends. There is a Punjab Red-vented Bulbul (Molpastes intermedius), a Bengal (Molpastes bengalensis), a Burmese (Molpastes burmanicus) and a Madras (Molpastes hÆmorrhous) species.

“It does not seem possible to maintain the contention that these various species are the products of natural selection, for that would mean if the black of the head of the Punjab species extended further into the neck the bird could not live in that country.”

Thus, natural selection clearly is unable to explain some cases of divergence of character due to geographical isolation.

There remains the third explanation, that the divergence is the result of the simple fact of isolation.

We have already shown how insuperable are the objections to the view held by Romanes and Gulick.

It seems to us that explanation must lie in the fact that mutations occur every now and again in some species. If two portions of a species are separated and a mutation occurs in one portion and not in the other, and if the mutating form succeeds in supplanting the parent form in that isolated portion of the species in which it has appeared, we should have the phenomenon of two races or species differing in appearance although subjected to what appear to be identical environment.

This, of course, is pure conjecture. All that can be said of it at present is that it is not opposed to observed facts. That mutations do occur must be admitted. At present we are totally in the dark as to what causes them. They arise at the most unexpected times.

In favour of the explanation based on “mutation” there is the interesting fact that geographical isolation does not by any means always cause divergence of character. This Romanes, with great fairness, freely admits. “There are,” he writes, on p. 133 of vol. iii. of Darwin and after Darwin, “four species of butterflies, belonging to three genera (LycÆna donzelii, L. pheretes, Argynnis pales, Erebia manto), which are identical in the polar regions and the Alps, notwithstanding that the sparse Alpine populations have been presumably separated from their parent stocks since the glacial period.” Again, there are “certain species of fresh-water crustaceans (Apus), the representatives of which are compelled habitually to form small isolated colonies in widely separated ponds, and nevertheless exhibit no divergence of character, although apogamy has probably lasted for centuries.”

Cormorants

To these examples we may add that of the cormorants. These birds have an almost worldwide range. One species—our Cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo)—occurs in every imaginable kind of environment. Isolation has not effected any changes in the appearance of this species. Yet in New Zealand there exist no fewer than fourteen other species of cormorant. New Zealand is a country where climatic conditions are comparatively uniform, nevertheless it boasts of no fewer than fifteen out of the thirty-seven known species of cormorant. A possible explanation of this phenomenon may be found in the comparatively easy conditions under which cormorants live in New Zealand.[10] Under such circumstances mutants may be permitted by natural selection to survive, whereas in other parts of the world such mutants have not been able to hold their own.

Prof. Bateson has likened natural selection to a competitive examination to which every organism must submit. The penalty for failure is immediate death. The standard of the examination may vary with the locality.

Isolation, then, is a very important factor in the making of species, for without it, in some form, the multiplication of species is impossible.

Let us, in conclusion, briefly summarise what we now know of the method in which new species are made. We have studied the various factors of evolution—variation and correlation, heredity, natural selection, sexual selection, and the other kinds of isolation. How do these combine to bring new species into being, and to establish the same?

Natural Selection

Let us first consider the factor known as natural selection, since this is the one on which Darwin laid such great stress. Natural selection, although a most important factor in evolution, is not an indispensable one. Evolution is possible without natural selection.

Let us suppose that there is no such thing as natural selection; that the numbers of existing species are kept constant by the elimination of all individuals born in excess of the number required to maintain the species at the existing figure, and that the elimination of the surplus is effected, not by natural selection, but by chance, by the drawing of lots. Under such circumstances there may be evolution, existing species may undergo change, but the evolution will be determined solely by the lines along which variations occur.

If mutations take place along certain fixed lines, and tend to accumulate in the given directions, evolution will proceed along these lines quite independently of the utility to the organism of the mutations that occur. An unfavourable mutation will have precisely the same chance of survival as a favourable one.

If, on the other hand, mutations occur indiscriminately on all sides of the mean, then those mutations which happen to occur most frequently will have the best chance of survival, and they will mark the lines of evolution. But suppose that no mutation occurs more frequently than the others. Under such circumstances there will be no evolution, unless, by some cause or other, portions of the species are isolated, because in the long run the mutations will neutralise one another.

Let us now suppose that natural selection comes into play. The old method of determining by lot which forms shall persist is replaced by selection on the fixed principle that the fittest shall survive. The mutations appear as before, and as before, of the large number that occur, only a few are permitted to survive. But now the survivors, instead of being a motley crowd, are a selected band, composed of individuals having many characteristics in common—a homogeneous company. Thus one result of natural selection is to accelerate evolution, by weeding out certain classes of individuals and preventing them breeding with those it has selected. On the other hand, natural selection will tend to diminish the number of species which have arisen through mutation, inasmuch as it weeds out many mutants which would have perished had their survival been determined by lot.

Origin of the Fittest

From this the kind of work performed by natural selection should be obvious. Natural selection does not make new species. These make themselves, or, rather, originate in accordance with the laws of variation.

“You can,” runs an old proverb, “bring a horse to the drinking fountain, but you cannot make him drink.” You may be able to bring a child into the world, but you cannot secure its survival. Variation brings into being mutants, which are incipient species, but variation cannot determine their survival. It is at this stage that natural selection steps in.

But because natural selection allows certain mutations to persist, it is not correct to say that natural selection has caused these mutations or made or originated the species to which they give rise.

The Civil Service Commissioners do not make Indian civil servants: they merely determine which of a number of ready-made men shall become civil servants. Similarly, natural selection does not make new species, it simply decides which of a number of ready-made organisms shall survive and establish themselves as new species. Nor does natural selection always do as much as this; for it is not the only determinant of survival. Its position is sometimes comparable to that of the Medical Board which inspects and rejects the physically unfit of the candidates which have already been selected by some other authority.

The examination conducted by natural selection may be compared to a competitive one. A separate, independent examination is held for each particular locality; consequently the severity of the competition will vary with the locality.

In each competition some candidates pass with ease: they gain an unnecessarily high total of marks. So in nature do certain organisms, as, for example, the Leaf-butterflies (Kallimas), appear to be over-adapted to their environment. Other candidates manage to pass only by a very narrow margin: these are paralleled in nature by those species which are barely able to maintain themselves, which become extinct the moment the competition increases in severity.

The great bulk of the candidates fail to obtain sufficient marks to gain a place among the chosen few; these unsuccessful candidates correspond to the mutating forms which perish in the struggle for existence, to those individuals which happen to have mutated in unfavourable directions.

Even as many candidates have acquired knowledge of subjects in which they are not examined, so do many organisms possess characteristics which are of no utility to them in the struggle for existence.

Wallaceians expend much time and energy in misguided attempts to explain the existence of such characters in terms of natural selection.

Nature’s examination, like that held for entrance to the Indian Civil Service, is a liberal one, so that the qualifications of the successful candidates vary considerably. Provided a candidate is able to gain more marks than the other candidates for a vacancy, it matters not in what subjects the marks are gained. So is it in nature. Natural selection takes an organism as a whole. One species may have established itself because of its fleetness, a second because of its courage, a third because it has a strong constitution, a fourth because it is protectively coloured, a fifth because it has good digestive powers, and so on.

We thus perceive the part played by natural selection and other forms of isolation in the making of species. It is obvious that these do not make species any more than the Civil Service Commissioners manufacture Indian civil servants.

The real makers of species are the inherent properties of protoplasm and the laws of variation and heredity. These determine the nature of the organism; natural selection and the like factors merely decide for each particular organism whether it shall survive and give rise to a species.

The way in which natural selection does its work is comparatively easy to understand. But this is only the fringe of the territory which we call evolution.

We seem to be tolerably near a solution of the problem of the causes of the survival of any particular mutation. This, however, is merely a side issue. The real problem is the cause of variations and mutations, or, in other words, how species originate. At present our knowledge of the causes of variation and mutation is practically nil. We do not even know along what particular lines mutations occur.

We have yet to discover whether one mutation invariably leads to another along the same lines—in other words, whether mutating organisms behave as though they had behind them a force acting in a definite direction. The solution of these problems seems afar off. The hope of solving them lies, not in the speculations in which biologists of to-day are so fond of indulging, but in observation and experiment, especially the last.

The future of biology is largely in the hands of the practical breeder.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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