The Origin of Species
by Charles Darwin
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Chapter 12 - Geographical Distribution continued
As lakes and river-systems are separated from each other by barriers
of land, it might have been thought that fresh-water productions would
not have ranged widely within the same country, and as the sea is
apparently a still more impassable barrier, that they never would
have extended to distant countries. But the case is exactly the reverse.
Not only have many fresh-water species, belonging to quite different
classes, an enormous range, but allied species prevail in a remarkable
manner throughout the world. I well remember, when first collecting
in the fresh waters of Brazil, feeling much surprise at the similarity
of the fresh-water insects, shells, &c., and at the dissimilarity
of the surrounding terrestrial beings, compared with those of Britain.
But this power in fresh-water productions of ranging widely, though
so unexpected, can, I think, in most cases be explained by their
having become fitted, in a manner highly useful to them, for short
and frequent migrations from pond to pond, or from stream to stream;
and liability to wide dispersal would follow from this capacity
as an almost necessary consequence. We can here consider only a
few cases. In regard to fish, I believe that the same species never
occur in the fresh waters of distant continents. But on the same
continent the species often range widely and almost capriciously;
for two river-systems will have some fish in common and some different.
A few facts seem to favour the possibility of their occasional transport
by accidental means; like that of the live fish not rarely dropped
by whirlwinds in India, and the vitality of their ova when removed
from the water. But I am inclined to attribute the dispersal of
fresh-water fish mainly to slight changes within the recent period
in the level of the land, having caused rivers to flow into each
other. Instances, also, could be given of this having occurred during
floods, without any change of level. We have evidence in the loess
of the Rhine of considerable changes of level in the land within
a very recent geological period, and when the surface was peopled
by existing land and fresh-water shells. The wide difference of
the fish on opposite sides of continuous mountain-ranges, which
from an early period must have parted river-systems and completely
prevented their inosculation, seems to lead to this same conclusion.
With respect to allied fresh-water fish occurring at very distant
points of the world, no doubt there are many cases which cannot
at present be explained: but some fresh-water fish belong to very
ancient forms, and in such cases there will have been ample time
for great geographical changes, and consequently time and means
for much migration. In the second place, salt-water fish can with
care be slowly accustomed to live in fresh water; and, according
to Valenciennes, there is hardly a single group of fishes confined
exclusively to fresh water, so that we may imagine that a marine
member of a fresh-water group might travel far along the shores
of the sea, and subsequently become modified and adapted to the
fresh waters of a distant land.
Some species of fresh-water shells have a very wide range, and
allied species, which, on my theory, are descended from a common
parent and must have proceeded from a single source, prevail throughout
the world. Their distribution at first perplexed me much, as their
ova are not likely to be transported by birds, and they are immediately
killed by sea water, as are the adults. I could not even understand
how some naturalised species have rapidly spread throughout the
same country. But two facts, which I have observed and no doubt
many others remain to be observed throw some light on this subject.
When a duck suddenly emerges from a pond covered with duck-weed,
I have twice seen these little plants adhering to its back; and
it has happened to me, in removing a little duck-weed from one aquarium
to another, that I have quite unintentionally stocked the one with
fresh-water shells from the other. But another agency is perhaps
more effectual: I suspended a duck's feet, which might represent
those of a bird sleeping in a natural pond, in an aquarium, where
many ova of fresh-water shells were hatching; and I found that numbers
of the extremely minute and just hatched shells crawled on the feet,
and clung to them so firmly that when taken out of the water they
could not be jarred off, though at a somewhat more advanced age
they would voluntarily drop off. These just hatched molluscs, though
aquatic in their nature, survived on the duck's feet, in damp air,
from twelve to twenty hours; and in this length of time a duck or
heron might fly at least six or seven hundred miles, and would be
sure to alight on a pool or rivulet, if blown across sea to an oceanic
island or to any other distant point. Sir Charles Lyell also informs
me that a Dyticus has been caught with an Ancylus (a fresh-water
shell like a limpet) firmly adhering to it; and a water-beetle of
the same family, a Colymbetes, once flew on board the `Beagle,'
when forty-five miles distant from the nearest land: how much farther
it might have flown with a favouring gale no one can tell.
With respect to plants, it has long been known what enormous ranges
many fresh-water and even marsh-species have, both over continents
and to the most remote oceanic islands. This is strikingly shown,
as remarked by Alph. de Candolle, in large groups of terrestrial
plants, which have only a very few aquatic members; for these latter
seem immediately to acquire, as if in consequence, a very wide range.
I think favourable means of dispersal explain this fact. I have
before mentioned that earth occasionally, though rarely, adheres
in some quantity to the feet and beaks of birds. Wading birds, which
frequent the muddy edges of ponds, if suddenly flushed, would be
the most likely to have muddy feet. Birds of this order I can show
are the greatest wanderers, and are occasionally found on the most
remote and barren islands in the open ocean; they would not be likely
to alight on the surface of the sea, so that the dirt would not
be washed off their feet; when making land, they would be sure to
fly to their natural fresh-water haunts. I do not believe that botanists
are aware how charged the mud of ponds is with seeds: I have tried
several little experiments, but will here give only the most striking
case: I took in February three table-spoonfuls of mud from three
different points, beneath water, on the edge of a little pond; this
mud when dry weighed only 6 3/4 ounces; I kept it covered up in
my study for six months, pulling up and counting each plant as it
grew; the plants were of many kinds, and were altogether 537 in
number; and yet the viscid mud was all contained in a breakfast
cup! Considering these facts, I think it would be an inexplicable
circumstance if water-birds did not transport the seeds of fresh-water
plants to vast distances, and if consequently the range of these
plants was not very great. The same agency may have come into play
with the eggs of some of the smaller fresh-water animals.
Other and unknown agencies probably have also played a part. I
have stated that fresh-water fish eat some kinds of seeds, though
they reject many other kinds after having swallowed them; even small
fish swallow seeds of moderate size, as of the yellow water-lily
and Potamogeton. Herons and other birds, century after century,
have gone on daily devouring fish; they then take flight and go
to other waters, or are blown across the sea; and we have seen that
seeds retain their power of germination, when rejected in pellets
or in excrement, many hours afterwards. When I saw the great size
of the seeds of that fine water-lily, the Nelumbium, and remembered
Alph. de Candolle's remarks on this plant, I thought that its distribution
must remain quite inexplicable; but Audubon states that he found
the seeds of the great southern water-lily (probably, according
to Dr Hooker, the Nelumbium luteum) in a heron's stomach; although
I do not know the fact, yet analogy makes me believe that a heron
flying to another pond and getting a hearty meal of fish, would
probably reject from its stomach a pellet containing the seeds of
the Nelumbium undigested; or the seeds might be dropped by the bird
whilst feeding its young, in the same way as fish are known sometimes
to be dropped.
In considering these several means of distribution, it should be
remembered that when a pond or stream is first formed, for instance,
on a rising islet, it will be unoccupied; and a single seed or egg
will have a good chance of succeeding. Although there will always
be a struggle for life between the individuals of the species, however
few, already occupying any pond, yet as the number of kinds is small,
compared with those on the land, the competition will probably be
less severe between aquatic than between terrestrial species; consequently
an intruder from the waters of a foreign country, would have a better
chance of seizing on a place, than in the case of terrestrial colonists.
We should, also, remember that some, perhaps many, fresh-water productions
are low in the scale of nature, and that we have reason to believe
that such low beings change or become modified less quickly than
the high; and this will give longer time than the average for the
migration of the same aquatic species. We should not forget the
probability of many species having formerly ranged as continuously
as fresh-water productions ever can range, over immense areas, and
having subsequently become extinct in intermediate regions. But
the wide distribution of fresh-water plants and of the lower animals,
whether retaining the same identical form or in some degree modified,
I believe mainly depends on the wide dispersal of their seeds and
eggs by animals, more especially by fresh-water birds, which have
large powers of flight, and naturally travel from one to another
and often distant piece of water. Nature, like a careful gardener,
thus takes her seeds from a bed of a particular nature, and drops
them in another equally well fitted for them.
On the Inhabitants of Oceanic Islands
We now come to the last of the three classes of facts, which I have
selected as presenting the greatest amount of difficulty, on the view
that all the individuals both of the same and of allied species have
descended from a single parent; and therefore have all proceeded from
a common birthplace, notwithstanding that in the course of time they
have come to inhabit distant points of the globe. I have already stated
that I cannot honestly admit Forbes's view on continental extensions,
which, if legitimately followed out, would lead to the belief that
within the recent period all existing islands have been nearly or
quite joined to some continent. This view would remove many difficulties,
but it would not, I think, explain all the facts in regard to insular
productions. In the following remarks I shall not confine myself to
the mere question of dispersal; but shall consider some other facts,
which bear on the truth of the two theories of independent creation
and of descent with modification.
The species of all kinds which inhabit oceanic islands are few
in number compared with those on equal continental areas: Alph.
de Candolle admits this for plants, and Wollaston for insects. If
we look to the large size and varied stations of New Zealand, extending
over 780 miles of latitude, and compare its flowering plants, only
750 in number, with those on an equal area at the Cape of Good Hope
or in Australia, we must, I think, admit that something quite independently
of any difference in physical conditions has caused so great a difference
in number. Even the uniform county of Cambridge has 847 plants,
and the little island of Anglesea 764, but a few ferns and a few
introduced plants are included in these numbers, and the comparison
in some other respects is not quite fair. We have evidence that
the barren island of Ascension aboriginally possessed under half-a-dozen
flowering plants; yet many have become naturalised on it, as they
have on New Zealand and on every other oceanic island which can
be named. In St. Helena there is reason to believe that the naturalised
plants and animals have nearly or quite exterminated many native
productions. He who admits the doctrine of the creation of each
separate species, will have to admit, that a sufficient number of
the best adapted plants and animals have not been created on oceanic
islands; for man has unintentionally stocked them from various sources
far more fully and perfectly than has nature.
Although in oceanic islands the number of kinds of inhabitants
is scanty, the proportion of endemic species (i.e. those
found nowhere else in the world) is often extremely large. If we
compare, for instance, the number of the endemic land-shells in
Madeira, or of the endemic birds in the Galapagos Archipelago, with
the number found on any continent, and then compare the area of
the islands with that of the continent, we shall see that this is
true. This fact might have been expected on my theory for, as already
explained, species occasionally arriving after long intervals in
a new and isolated district, and having to compete with new associates,
will be eminently liable to modification, and will often produce
groups of modified descendants. But it by no means follows, that,
because in an island nearly all the species of one class are peculiar,
those of another class, or of another section of the same class,
are peculiar; and this difference seems to depend on the species
which do not become modified having immigrated with facility and
in a body, so that their mutual relations have not been much disturbed.
Thus in the Galapagos Islands nearly every land-bird, but only two
out of the eleven marine birds, are peculiar; and it is obvious
that marine birds could arrive at these islands more easily than
land-birds. Bermuda, on the other hand, which lies at about the
same distance from North America as the Galapagos Islands do from
South America, and which has a very peculiar soil, does not possess
one endemic land bird; and we know from Mr. J. M. Jones's admirable
account of Bermuda, that very many North American birds, during
their great annual migrations, visit either periodically or occasionally
this island. Madeira does not possess one peculiar bird, and many
European and African birds are almost every year blown there, as
I am informed by Mr. E. V. Harcourt. So that these two islands of
Bermuda and Madeira have been stocked by birds, which for long ages
have struggled together in their former homes, and have become mutually
adapted to each other; and when settled in their new homes, each
kind will have been kept by the others to their proper places and
habits, and will consequently have been little liable to modification.
Madeira, again, is inhabited by a wonderful number of peculiar land-shells,
whereas not one species of sea-shell is confined to its shores:
now, though we do not know how seashells are dispersed, yet we can
see that their eggs or larvae, perhaps attached to seaweed or floating
timber, or to the feet of wading-birds, might be transported far
more easily than land-shells, across three or four hundred miles
of open sea. The different orders of insects in Madeira apparently
present analogous facts.
Oceanic islands are sometimes deficient in certain classes, and
their places are apparently occupied by the other inhabitants; in
the Galapagos Islands reptiles, and in New Zealand gigantic wingless
birds, take the place of mammals. In the plants of the Galapagos
Islands, Dr. Hooker has shown that the proportional numbers of the
different orders are very different from what they are elsewhere.
Such cases are generally accounted for by the physical conditions
of the islands; but this explanation seems to me not a little doubtful.
Facility of immigration, I believe, has been at least as important
as the nature of the conditions.
Many remarkable little facts could be given with respect to the
inhabitants of remote islands. For instance, in certain islands
not tenanted by mammals, some of the endemic plants have beautifully
hooked seeds; yet few relations are more striking than the adaptation
of hooked seeds for transportal by the wool and fur of quadrupeds.
This case presents no difficulty on my view, for a hooked seed might
be transported to an island by some other means; and the plant then
becoming slightly modified, but still retaining its hooked seeds,
would form an endemic species, having as useless an appendage as
any rudimentary organ, for instance, as the shrivelled wings under
the soldered elytra of many insular beetles. Again, islands often
possess trees or bushes belonging to orders which elsewhere include
only herbaceous species; now trees, as Alph. de Candolle has shown,
generally have, whatever the cause may be, confined ranges. Hence
trees would be little likely to reach distant oceanic islands; and
an herbaceous plant, though it would have no chance of successfully
competing in stature with a fully developed tree, when established
on an island and having to compete with herbaceous plants alone,
might readily gain an advantage by growing taller and taller and
overtopping the other plants. If so, natural selection would often
tend to add to the stature of herbaceous plants when growing on
an island, to whatever order they belonged, and thus convert them
first into bushes and ultimately into trees.
With respect to the absence of whole orders on oceanic islands,
Bory St. Vincent long ago remarked that Batrachians (frogs, toads,
newts) have never been found on any of the many islands with which
the great oceans are studded. I have taken pains to verify this
assertion, and I have found it strictly true. I have, however, been
assured that a frog exists on the mountains of the great island
of New Zealand; but I suspect that this exception (if the information
be correct) may be explained through glacial agency. This general
absence of frogs, toads, and newts on so many oceanic islands cannot
be accounted for by their physical conditions; indeed it seems that
islands are peculiarly well fitted for these animals; for frogs
have been introduced into Madeira, the Azores, and Mauritius, and
have multiplied so as to become a nuisance. But as these animals
and their spawn are known to be immediately killed by sea-water,
on my view we can see that there would be great difficulty in their
transportal across the sea, and therefore why they do not exist
on any oceanic island. But why, on the theory of creation, they
should not have been created there, it would be very difficult to
explain.
Mammals offer another and similar case. I have carefully searched
the oldest voyages, but have not finished my search; as yet I have
not found a single instance, free from doubt, of a terrestrial mammal
(excluding domesticated animals kept by the natives) inhabiting
an island situated above 300 miles from a continent or great continental
island; and many islands situated at a much less distance are equally
barren. The Falkland Islands, which are inhabited by a wolf-like
fox, come nearest to an exception; but this group cannot be considered
as oceanic, as it lies on a bank connected with the mainland; moreover,
icebergs formerly brought boulders to its western shores, and they
may have formerly transported foxes, as so frequently now happens
in the arctic regions. Yet it cannot be said that small islands
will not support small mammals, for they occur in many parts of
the world on very small islands, if close to a continent; and hardly
an island can be named on which our smaller quadrupeds have not
become naturalised and greatly multiplied. It cannot be said, on
the ordinary view of creation, that there has not been time for
the creation of mammals; many volcanic islands are sufficiently
ancient, as shown by the stupendous degradation which they have
suffered and by their tertiary strata: there has also been time
for the production of endemic species belonging to other classes;
and on continents it is thought that mammals appear and disappear
at a quicker rate than other and lower animals. Though terrestrial
mammals do not occur on oceanic islands, aërial mammals do
occur on almost every island. New Zealand possesses two bats found
nowhere else in the world: Norfolk Island, the Viti Archipelago,
the Bonin Islands, the Caroline and Marianne Archipelagoes, and
Mauritius, all possess their peculiar bats. Why, it may be asked,
has the supposed creative force produced bats and no other mammals
on remote islands? On my view this question can easily be answered;
for no terrestrial mammal can be transported across a wide space
of sea, but bats can fly across. Bats have been seen wandering by
day far over the Atlantic Ocean; and two North American species
either regularly or occasionally visit Bermuda, at the distance
of 600 miles from the mainland. I hear from Mr. Tomes, who has specially
studied this family, that many of the same species have enormous
ranges, and are found on continents and on far distant islands.
Hence we have only to suppose that such wandering species have been
modified through natural selection in their new homes in relation
to their new position, and we can understand the presence of endemic
bats on islands, with the absence of all terrestrial mammals.
Besides the absence of terrestrial mammals in relation to the remoteness
of islands from continents, there is also a relation, to a certain
extent independent of distance, between the depth of the sea separating
an island from the neighbouring mainland, and the presence in both
of the same mammiferous species or of allied species in a more or
less modified condition. Mr. Windsor Earl has made some striking
observations on this head in regard to the great Malay Archipelago,
which is traversed near Celebes by a space of deep ocean; and this
space separates two widely distinct mammalian faunas. On either
side the islands are situated on moderately deep submarine banks,
and they are inhabited by closely allied or identical quadrupeds.
No doubt some few anomalies occur in this great archipelago, and
there is much difficulty in forming a judgment in some cases owing
to the probable naturalisation of certain mammals through man's
agency; but we shall soon have much light thrown on the natural
history of this archipelago by the admirable zeal and researches
of Mr Wallace. I have not as yet had time to follow up this subject
in all other quarters of the world; but as far as I have gone, the
relation generally holds good. We see Britain separated by a shallow
channel from Europe, and the mammals are the same on both sides;
we meet with analogous facts on many islands separated by similar
channels from Australia. The West Indian Islands stand on a deeply
submerged bank, nearly 1000 fathoms in depth, and here we find American
forms, but the species and even the genera are distinct. As the
amount of modification in all cases depends to a certain degree
on the lapse of time, and as during changes of level it is obvious
that islands separated by shallow channels are more likely to have
been continuously united within a recent period to the mainland
than islands separated by deeper channels, we can understand the
frequent relation between the depth of the sea and the degree of
affinity of the mammalian inhabitants of islands with those of a
neighbouring continent, an explicable relation on the view of independent
acts of creation.
All the foregoing remarks on the inhabitants of oceanic islands,
namely, the scarcity of kinds -- the richness in endemic forms in
particular classes or sections of classes, the absence of whole
groups, as of batrachians, and of terrestrial mammals notwithstanding
the presence of aërial bats, the singular proportions of certain
orders of plants, herbaceous forms having been developed into trees,
&c., seem to me to accord better with the view of occasional
means of transport having been largely efficient in the long course
of time, than with the view of all our oceanic islands having been
formerly connected by continuous land with the nearest continent;
for on this latter view the migration would probably have been more
complete; and if modification be admitted, all the forms of life
would have been more equally modified, in accordance with the paramount
importance of the relation of organism to organism.
I do not deny that there are many and grave difficulties in understanding
how several of the inhabitants of the more remote islands, whether
still retaining the same specific form or modified since their arrival,
could have reached their present homes. But the probability of many
islands having existed as halting-places, of which not a wreck now
remains, must not be overlooked. I will here give a single instance
of one of the cases of difficulty. Almost all oceanic islands, even
the most isolated and smallest, are inhabited by land-shells, generally
by endemic species, but sometimes by species found elsewhere. Dr.
Aug. A. Gould has given several interesting cases in regard to the
land-shells of the islands of the Pacific. Now it is notorious that
land-shells are very easily killed by salt; their eggs, at least
such as I have tried, sink in sea-water and are killed by it. Yet
there must be, on my view, some unknown, but highly efficient means
for their transportal. Would the just-hatched young occasionally
crawl on and adhere to the feet of birds roosting on the ground,
and thus get transported? It occurred to me that land-shells, when
hybernating and having a membranous diaphragm over the mouth of
the shell, might be floated in chinks of drifted timber across moderately
wide arms of the sea. And I found that several species did in this
state withstand uninjured an immersion in sea-water during seven
days: one of these shells was the Helix pomatia, and after it had
again hybernated I put it in sea-water for twenty days, and it perfectly
recovered. As this species has a thick calcareous operculum, I removed
it, and when it had formed a new membranous one, I immersed it for
fourteen days in sea-water, and it recovered and crawled away: but
more experiments are wanted on this head.
The most striking and important fact for us in regard to the inhabitants
of islands, is their affinity to those of the nearest mainland,
without being actually the same species. Numerous instances could
be given of this fact. I will give only one, that of the Galapagos
Archipelago, situated under the equator, between 500 and 600 miles
from the shores of South America. Here almost every product of the
land and water bears the unmistakeable stamp of the American continent.
There are twenty-six land birds, and twenty-five of those are ranked
by Mr Gould as distinct species, supposed to have been created here;
yet the close affinity of most of these birds to American species
in every character, in their habits, gestures, and tones of voice,
was manifest. So it is with the other animals, and with nearly all
the plants, as shown by Dr. Hooker in his admirable memoir on the
Flora of this archipelago. The naturalist, looking at the inhabitants
of these volcanic islands in the Pacific, distant several hundred
miles from the continent, yet feels that he is standing on American
land. Why should this be so? why should the species which are supposed
to have been created in the Galapagos Archipelago, and nowhere else,
bear so plain a stamp of affinity to those created in America? There
is nothing in the conditions of life, in the geological nature of
the islands, in their height or climate, or in the proportions in
which the several classes are associated together, which resembles
closely the conditions of the South American coast: in fact there
is a considerable dissimilarity in all these respects. On the other
hand, there is a considerable degree of resemblance in the volcanic
nature of the soil, in climate, height, and size of the islands,
between the Galapagos and Cape de Verde Archipelagos: but what an
entire and absolute difference in their inhabitants! The inhabitants
of the Cape de Verde Islands are related to those of Africa, like
those of the Galapagos to America. I believe this grand fact can
receive no sort of explanation on the ordinary view of independent
creation; whereas on the view here maintained, it is obvious that
the Galapagos Islands would be likely to receive colonists, whether
by occasional means of transport or by formerly continuous land,
from America; and the Cape de Verde Islands from Africa; and that
such colonists would be liable to modifications; the principle of
inheritance still betraying their original birthplace.
Many analogous facts could be given: indeed it is an almost universal
rule that the endemic productions of islands are related to those
of the nearest continent, or of other near islands. The exceptions
are few, and most of them can be explained. Thus the plants of Kerguelen
Land, though standing nearer to Africa than to America, are related,
and that very closely, as we know from Dr. Hooker's account, to
those of America: but on the view that this island has been mainly
stocked by seeds brought with earth and stones on icebergs, drifted
by the prevailing currents, this anomaly disappears. New Zealand
in its endemic plants is much more closely related to Australia,
the nearest mainland, than to any other region: and this is what
might have been expected; but it is also plainly related to South
America, which, although the next nearest continent, is so enormously
remote, that the fact becomes an anomaly. But this difficulty almost
disappears on the view that both New Zealand, South America, and
other southern lands were long ago partially stocked from a nearly
intermediate though distant point, namely from the antarctic islands,
when they were clothed with vegetation, before the commencement
of the Glacial period. The affinity, which, though feeble, I am
assured by Dr. Hooker is real, between the flora of the south-western
corner of Australia and of the Cape of Good Hope, is a far more
remarkable case, and is at present inexplicable: but this affinity
is confined to the plants, and will, I do not doubt, be some day
explained.
The law which causes the inhabitants of an archipelago, though
specifically distinct, to be closely allied to those of the nearest
continent, we sometimes see displayed on a small scale, yet in a
most interesting manner, within the limits of the same archipelago.
Thus the several islands of the Galapagos Archipelago are tenanted,
as I have elsewhere shown, in a quite marvellous manner, by very
closely related species; so that the inhabitants of each separate
island, though mostly distinct, are related in an incomparably closer
degree to each other than to the inhabitants of any other part of
the world. And this is just what might have been expected on my
view, for the islands are situated so near each other that they
would almost certainly receive immigrants from the same original
source, or from each other. But this dissimilarity between the endemic
inhabitants of the islands may be used as an argument against my
views; for it may be asked, how has it happened in the several islands
situated within sight of each other, having the same geological
nature, the same height, climate, &c., that many of the immigrants
should have been differently modified, though only in a small degree.
This long appeared to me a great difficulty: but it arises in chief
part from the deeply-seated error of considering the physical conditions
of a country as the most important for its inhabitants; whereas
it cannot, I think, be disputed that the nature of the other inhabitants,
with which each has to compete, is at least as important, and generally
a far more important element of success. Now if we look to those
inhabitants of the Galapagos Archipelago which are found in other
parts of the world (having on one side for the moment the endemic
species, which cannot be here fairly included, as we are considering
how they have come to be modified since their arrival), we find
a considerable amount of difference in the several islands. This
difference might indeed have been expected on the view of the islands
having been stocked by occasional means of transport a seed, for
instance, of one plant having been brought to one island, and that
of another plant to another island. Hence when in former times an
immigrant settled on any one or more of the islands, or when it
subsequently spread from one island to another, it would undoubtedly
be exposed to different conditions of life in the different islands,
for it would have to compete with different sets of organisms: a
plant, for instance, would find the best-fitted ground more perfectly
occupied by distinct plants in one island than in another, and it
would be exposed to the attacks of somewhat different enemies. If
then it varied, natural selection would probably favour different
varieties in the different islands. Some species, however, might
spread and yet retain the same character throughout the group, just
as we see on continents some species' spreading widely and remaining
the same.
The really surprising fact in this case of the Galapagos Archipelago,
and in a lesser degree in some analogous instances, is that the
new species formed in the separate islands have not quickly spread
to the other islands. But the islands, though in sight of each other,
are separated by deep arms of the sea, in most cases wider than
the British Channel, and there is no reason to suppose that they
have at any former period been continuously united. The currents
of the sea are rapid and sweep across the archipelago, and gales
of wind are extraordinarily rare; so that the islands are far more
effectually separated from each other than they appear to be on
a map. Nevertheless a good many species, both those found in other
parts of the world and those confined to the archipelago, are common
to the several islands, and we may infer from certain facts that
these have probably spread from some one island to the others. But
we often take, I think, an erroneous view of the probability of
closely allied species invading each other's territory, when put
into free intercommunication. Undoubtedly if one species has any
advantage whatever over another, it will in a very brief time wholly
or in part supplant it; but if both are equally well fitted for
their own places in nature, both probably will hold their own places
and keep separate for almost any length of time. Being familiar
with the fact that many species, naturalised through man's agency,
have spread with astonishing rapidity over new countries, we are
apt to infer that most species would thus spread; but we should
remember that the forms which become naturalised in new countries
are not generally closely allied to the aboriginal inhabitants,
but are very distinct species, belonging in a large proportion of
cases, as shown by Alph. de Candolle, to distinct genera. In the
Galapagos Archipelago, many even of the birds, though so well adapted
for flying from island to island, are distinct on each; thus there
are three closely-allied species of mocking-thrush, each confined
to its own island. Now let us suppose the mocking-thrush of Chatham
Island to be blown to Charles Island, which has its own mocking-thrush:
why should it succeed in establishing itself there? We may safely
infer that Charles Island is well stocked with its own species,
for annually more eggs are laid there than can possibly be reared;
and we may infer that the mocking-thrush peculiar to Charles Island
is at least as well fitted for its home as is the species peculiar
to Chatham Island. Sir C. Lyell and Mr. Wollaston have communicated
to me a remarkable fact bearing on this subject; namely, that Madeira
and the adjoining islet of Porto Santo possess many distinct but
representative land-shells, some of which live in crevices of stone;
and although large quantities of stone are annually transported
from Porto Santo to Madeira, yet this latter island has not become
colonised by the Porto Santo species: nevertheless both islands
have been colonised by some European land-shells, which no doubt
had some advantage over the indigenous species. From these considerations
I think we need not greatly marvel at the endemic and representative
species, which inhabit the several islands of the Galapagos Archipelago,
not having universally spread from island to island. In many other
instances, as in the several districts of the same continent, pre-occupation
has probably played an important part in checking the commingling
of species under the same conditions of life. Thus, the south-east
and south-west corners of Australia have nearly the same physical
conditions, and are united by continuous land, yet they are inhabited
by a vast number of distinct mammals, birds, and plants.
The principle which determines the general character of the fauna
and flora of oceanic islands, namely, that the inhabitants, when
not identically the same, yet are plainly related to the inhabitants
of that region whence colonists could most readily have been derived,
the colonists having been subsequently modified and better fitted
to their new homes, is of the widest application throughout nature.
We see this on every mountain, in every lake and marsh. For Alpine
species, excepting in so far as the same forms, chiefly of plants,
have spread widely throughout the world during the recent Glacial
epoch, are related to those of the surrounding lowlands; thus we
have in South America, Alpine humming-birds, Alpine rodents, Alpine
plants, &c., all of strictly American forms, and it is obvious
that a mountain, as it became slowly upheaved, would naturally be
colonised from the surrounding lowlands. So it is with the inhabitants
of lakes and marshes, excepting in so far as great facility of transport
has given the same general forms to the whole world. We see this
same principle in the blind animals inhabiting the caves of America
and of Europe. Other analogous facts could be given. And it will,
I believe, be universally found to be true, that wherever in two
regions, let them be ever so distant, many closely allied or representative
species occur, there will likewise be found some identical species,
showing, in accordance with the foregoing view, that at some former
period there has been intercommunication or migration between the
two regions. And wherever many closely-allied species occur, there
will be found many forms which some naturalists rank as distinct
species, and some as varieties; these doubtful forms showing us
the steps in the process of modification.
This relation between the power and extent of migration of a species,
either at the present time or at some former period under different
physical conditions, and the existence at remote points of the world
of other species allied to it, is shown in another and more general
way. Mr. Gould remarked to me long ago, that in those genera of
birds which range over the world, many of the species have very
wide ranges. I can hardly doubt that this rule is generally true,
though it would be difficult to prove it. Amongst mammals, we see
it strikingly displayed in Bats, and in a lesser degree in the Felidae
and Canidae. We see it, if we compare the distribution of butterflies
and beetles. So it is with most fresh-water productions, in which
so many genera range over the world, and many individual species
have enormous ranges. It is not meant that in world-ranging genera
all the species have a wide range, or even that they have on an
average a wide range; but only that some of the species range very
widely; for the facility with which widely-ranging species vary
and give rise to new forms will largely determine their average
range. For instance, two varieties of the same species inhabit America
and Europe, and the species thus has an immense range; but, if the
variation had been a little greater, the two varieties would have
been ranked as distinct species, and the common range would have
been greatly reduced. Still less is it meant, that a species which
apparently has the capacity of crossing barriers and ranging widely,
as in the case of certain powerfully-winged birds, will necessarily
range widely; for we should never forget that to range widely implies
not only the power of crossing barriers, but the more important
power of being victorious in distant lands in the struggle for life
with foreign associates. But on the view of all the species of a
genus having descended from a single parent, though now distributed
to the most remote points of the world, we ought to find, and I
believe as a general rule we do find, that some at least of the
species range very widely; for it is necessary that the unmodified
parent should range widely, undergoing modification during its diffusion,
and should place itself under diverse conditions favourable for
the conversion of its offspring, firstly into new varieties and
ultimately into new species.
In considering the wide distribution of certain genera, we should
bear in mind that some are extremely ancient, and must have branched
off from a common parent at a remote epoch; so that in such cases
there will have been ample time for great climatal and geographical
changes and for accidents of transport; and consequently for the
migration of some of the species into all quarters of the world,
where they may have become slightly modified in relation to their
new conditions. There is, also, some reason to believe from geological
evidence that organisms low in the scale within each great class,
generally change at a slower rate than the higher forms; and consequently
the lower forms will have had a better chance of ranging widely
and of still retaining the same specific character. This fact, together
with the seeds and eggs of many low forms being very minute and
better fitted for distant transportation, probably accounts for
a law which has long been observed, and which has lately been admirably
discussed by Alph. de Candolle in regard to plants, namely, that
the lower any group of organisms is, the more widely it is apt to
range.
The relations just discussed, namely, low and slowly-changing organisms
ranging more widely than the high, some of the species of widely-ranging
genera themselves ranging widely, such facts, as alpine, lacustrine,
and marsh productions being related (with the exceptions before
specified) to those on the surrounding low lands and dry lands,
though these stations are so different the very close relation of
the distinct species which inhabit the islets of the same archipelago,
and especially the striking relation of the inhabitants of each
whole archipelago or island to those of the nearest mainland, are,
I think, utterly inexplicable on the ordinary view of the independent
creation of each species, but are explicable on the view of colonisation
from the nearest and readiest source, together with the subsequent
modification and better adaptation of the colonists to their new
homes.
Summary of last and present Chapters
In these chapters I have endeavoured to show, that if we make due
allowance for our ignorance of the full effects of all the changes
of climate and of the level of the land, which have certainly occurred
within the recent period, and of other similar changes which may have
occurred within the same period; if we remember how profoundly ignorant
we are with respect to the many and curious means of occasional transport,
a subject which has hardly ever been properly experimentised on; if
we bear in mind how often a species may have ranged continuously over
a wide area, and then have become extinct in the intermediate tracts,
I think the difficulties in believing that all the individuals of
the same species, wherever located, have descended from the same parents,
are not insuperable. And we are led to this conclusion, which has
been arrived at by many naturalists under the designation of single
centres of creation, by some general considerations, more especially
from the importance of barriers and from the analogical distribution
of sub-genera, genera, and families.
With respect to the distinct species of the same genus, which on
my theory must have spread from one parent-source; if we make the
same allowances as before for our ignorance, and remember that some
forms of life change most slowly, enormous periods of time being
thus granted for their migration, I do not think that the difficulties
are insuperable; though they often are in this case, and in that
of the individuals of the same species, extremely grave.
As exemplifying the effects of climatal changes on distribution,
I have attempted to show how important has been the influence of
the modern Glacial period, which I am fully convinced simultaneously
affected the whole world, or at least great meridional belts. As
showing how diversified are the means of occasional transport, I
have discussed at some little length the means of dispersal of fresh-water
productions.
If the difficulties be not insuperable in admitting that in the
long course of time the individuals of the same species, and likewise
of allied species, have proceeded from some one source; then I think
all the grand leading facts of geographical distribution are explicable
on the theory of migration (generally of the more dominant forms
of life), together with subsequent modification and the multiplication
of new forms. We can thus understand the high importance of barriers,
whether of land or water, which separate our several zoological
and botanical provinces. We can thus understand the localisation
of sub-genera, genera, and families; and how it is that under different
latitudes, for instance in South America, the inhabitants of the
plains and mountains, of the forests, marshes, and deserts, are
in so mysterious a manner linked together by affinity, and are likewise
linked to the extinct beings which formerly inhabited the same continent.
Bearing in mind that the mutual relations of organism to organism
are of the highest importance, we can see why two areas having nearly
the same physical conditions should often be inhabited by very different
forms of life; for according to the length of time which has elapsed
since new inhabitants entered one region; according to the nature
of the communication which allowed certain forms and not others
to enter, either in greater or lesser numbers; according or not,
as those which entered happened to come in more or less direct competition
with each other and with the aborigines; and according as the immigrants
were capable of varying more or less rapidly, there would ensue
in different regions, independently of their physical conditions,
infinitely diversified conditions of life, there would be an almost
endless amount of organic action and reaction, and we should find,
as we do find, some groups of beings greatly, and some only slightly
modified, some developed in great force, some existing in scanty
numbers in the different great geographical provinces of the world.
On these same principles, we can understand, as I have endeavoured
to show, why oceanic islands should have few inhabitants, but of
these a great number should be endemic or peculiar; and why, in
relation to the means of migration, one group of beings, even within
the same class, should have all its species endemic, and another
group should have all its species common to other quarters of the
world. We can see why whole groups of organisms, as batrachians
and terrestrial mammals, should be absent from oceanic islands,
whilst the most isolated islands possess their own peculiar species
of aërial mammals or bats. We can see why there should be some
relation between the presence of mammals, in a more or less modified
condition, and the depth of the sea between an island and the mainland.
We can clearly see why all the inhabitants of an archipelago, though
specifically distinct on the several islets, should be closely related
to each other, and likewise be related, but less closely, to those
of the nearest continent or other source whence immigrants were
probably derived. We can see why in two areas, however distant from
each other, there should be a correlation, in the presence of identical
species, of varieties, of doubtful species, and of distinct but
representative species.
As the late Edward Forbes often insisted, there is a striking parallelism
in the laws of life throughout time and space: the laws governing
the succession of forms in past times being nearly the same with
those governing at the present time the differences in different
areas. We see this in many facts. The endurance of each species
and group of species is continuous in time; for the exceptions to
the rule are so few, that they may fairly be attributed to our not
having as yet discovered in an intermediate deposit the forms which
are therein absent, but which occur above and below: so in space,
it certainly is the general rule that the area inhabited by a single
species, or by a group of species, is continuous; and the exceptions,
which are not rare, may, as I have attempted to show, be accounted
for by migration at some former period under different conditions
or by occasional means of transport, and by the species having become
extinct in the intermediate tracts. Both in time and space, species
and groups of species have their points of maximum development.
Groups of species, belonging either to a certain period of time,
or to a certain area, are often characterised by trifling characters
in common, as of sculpture or colour. In looking to the long succession
of ages, as in now looking to distant provinces throughout the world,
we find that some organisms differ little, whilst others belonging
to a different class, or to a different order, or even only to a
different family of the same order, differ greatly. In both time
and space the lower members of each class generally change less
than the higher; but there are in both cases marked exceptions to
the rule. On my theory these several relations throughout time and
space are intelligible; for whether we look to the forms of life
which have changed during successive ages within the same quarter
of the world, or to those which have changed after having migrated
into distant quarters, in both cases the forms within each class
have been connected by the same bond of ordinary generation; and
the more nearly any two forms are related in blood, the nearer they
will generally stand to each other in time and space; in both cases
the laws of variation have been the same, and modifications have
been accumulated by the same power of natural selection.
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