Чарльз Дарвин
The Foundations of the Origin of Species
Whether our domestic races have descended from one or more wild stocks
Several naturalists, of whom Pallas205 regarding animals, and Humboldt regarding certain plants, were the first, believe that the breeds of many of our domestic animals such as of the horse, pig, dog, sheep, pigeon, and poultry, and of our plants have descended from more than one aboriginal form. They leave it doubtful, whether such forms are to be considered wild races, or true species, whose offspring are fertile when crossed inter se. The main arguments for this view consist, firstly, of the great difference between such breeds, as the Race-and Cart-Horse, or the Greyhound and Bull-dog, and of our ignorance of the steps or stages through which these could have passed from a common parent; and secondly that in the most ancient historical periods, breeds resembling some of those at present most different, existed in different countries. The wolves of N. America and of Siberia are thought to be different species; and it has been remarked that the dogs belonging to the savages in these two countries resemble the wolves of the same country; and therefore that they have probably descended from two different wild stocks. In the same manner, these naturalists believe that the horse of Arabia and of Europe have probably descended from two wild stocks both apparently now extinct. I do not think the assumed fertility of these wild stocks any very great difficulty on this view; for although in animals the offspring of most cross-bred species are infertile, it is not always remembered that the experiment is very seldom fairly tried, except when two near species both breed freely (which does not readily happen, as we shall hereafter see) when under the dominion of man. Moreover in the case of the China206 and common goose, the canary and siskin, the hybrids breed freely; in other cases the offspring from hybrids crossed with either pure parent are fertile, as is practically taken advantage of with the yak and cow; as far as the analogy of plants serves, it is impossible to deny that some species are quite fertile inter se; but to this subject we shall recur.
On the other hand, the upholders of the view that the several breeds of dogs, horses, &c., &c., have descended each from one stock, may aver that their view removes all difficulty about fertility, and that the main argument from the high antiquity of different breeds, somewhat similar to the present breeds, is worth little without knowing the date of the domestication of such animals, which is far from being the case. They may also with more weight aver that, knowing that organic beings under domestication do vary in some degree, the argument from the great difference between certain breeds is worth nothing, without we know the limits of variation during a long course of time, which is far from the case. They may argue that almost every county in England, and in many districts of other countries, for instance in India, there are slightly different breeds of the domestic animals; and that it is opposed to all that we know of the distribution of wild animals to suppose that these have descended from so many different wild races or species: if so, they may argue, is it not probable that countries quite separate and exposed to different climates would have breeds not slightly, but considerably, different? Taking the most favourable case, on both sides, namely that of the dog; they might urge that such breeds as the bull-dog and turnspit have been reared by man, from the ascertained fact that strictly analogous breeds (namely the Niata ox and Ancon sheep) in other quadrupeds have thus originated. Again they may say, seeing what training and careful selection has effected for the greyhound, and seeing how absolutely unfit the Italian greyhound is to maintain itself in a state of nature, is it not probable that at least all greyhounds, – from the rough deerhound, the smooth Persian, the common English, to the Italian, – have descended from one stock207? If so, is it so improbable that the deerhound and long-legged shepherd dog have so descended? If we admit this, and give up the bull-dog, we can hardly dispute the probable common descent of the other breeds.
The evidence is so conjectural and balanced on both sides that at present I conceive that no one can decide: for my own part, I lean to the probability of most of our domestic animals having descended from more than one wild stock; though from the arguments last advanced and from reflecting on the slow though inevitable effect of different races of mankind, under different circumstances, saving the lives of and therefore selecting the individuals most useful to them, I cannot doubt but that one class of naturalists have much overrated the probable number of the aboriginal wild stocks. As far as we admit the difference of our races «to be» due to the differences of their original stocks, so much must we give up of the amount of variation produced under domestication. But this appears to me unimportant, for we certainly know in some few cases, for instance in the Dahlia, and potato, and rabbit, that a great number of varieties have proceeded from one stock; and, in many of our domestic races, we know that man, by slowly selecting and by taking advantage of sudden sports, has considerably modified old races and produced new ones. Whether we consider our races as the descendants of one or several wild stocks, we are in far the greater number of cases equally ignorant what these stocks were.
Limits to Variation in degree and kind
Man’s power in making races deends, in the first instance, on the stock on which he works being variable; but his labours are modified and limited, as we have seen, by the direct effects of the external conditions, – by the deficient or imperfect hereditariness of new peculiarities, – and by the tendency to continual variation and especially to reversion to ancestral forms. If the stock is not variable under domestication, of course he can do nothing; and it appears that species differ considerably in this tendency to variation, in the same way as even sub-varieties from the same variety differ greatly in this respect, and transmit to their offspring this difference in tendency. Whether the absence of a tendency to vary is an unalterable quality in certain species, or depends on some deficient condition of the particular state of domestication to which they are exposed, there is no evidence. When the organization is rendered variable, or plastic, as I have expressed it, under domestication, different parts of the frame vary more or less in different species: thus in the breeds of cattle it has been remarked that the horns are the most constant or least variable character, for these often remain constant, whilst the colour, size, proportions of the body, tendency to fatten &c., vary; in sheep, I believe, the horns are much more variable. As a general rule the less important parts of the organization seem to vary most, but I think there is sufficient evidence that every part occasionally varies in a slight degree. Even when man has the primary requisite variability he is necessarily checked by the health and life of the stock he is working on: thus he has already made pigeons with such small beaks that they can hardly eat and will not rear their own young; he has made families of sheep with so strong a tendency to early maturity and to fatten, that in certain pastures they cannot live from their extreme liability to inflammation; he has made (i. e. selected) sub-varieties of plants with a tendency to such early growth that they are frequently killed by the spring frosts; he has made a breed of cows having calves with such large hinder quarters that they are born with great difficulty, often to the death of their mothers208; the breeders were compelled to remedy this by the selection of a breeding stock with smaller hinder quarters; in such a case, however, it is possible by long patience and great loss, a remedy might have been found in selecting cows capable of giving birth to calves with large hinder quarters, for in human kind there «are» no doubt hereditary bad and good confinements. Besides the limits already specified, there can be little doubt that the variation of different parts of the frame are connected together by many laws209: thus the two sides of the body, in health and disease, seem almost always to vary together: it has been asserted by breeders that if the head is much elongated, the bones of the extremities will likewise be so; in seedling-apples large leaves and fruit generally go together, and serve the horticulturalist as some guide in his selection; we can here see the reason, as the fruit is only a metamorphosed leaf. In animals the teeth and hair seem connected, for the hairless Chinese dog is almost toothless. Breeders believe that one part of the frame or function being increased causes other parts to decrease: they dislike great horns and great bones as so much flesh lost; in hornless breeds of cattle certain bones of the head become more developed: it is said that fat accumulating in one part checks its accumulation in another, and likewise checks the action of the udder. The whole organization is so connected that it is probable there are many conditions determining the variation of each part, and causing other parts to vary with it; and man in making new races must be limited and ruled by all such laws.
In what consists Domestication
In this chapter we have treated of variation under domestication, and it now remains to consider in what does this power of domestication consist210, a subject of considerable difficulty. Observing that organic beings of almost every class, in all climates, countries, and times, have varied when long bred under domestication, we must conclude that the influence is of some very general nature211. Mr Knight alone, as far as I know, has tried to define it; he believes it consists of an excess of food, together with transport to a more genial climate, or protection from its severities. I think we cannot admit this latter proposition, for we know how many vegetable products, aborigines of this country, here vary, when cultivated without any protection from the weather; and some of our variable trees, as apricots, peaches, have undoubtedly been derived from a more genial climate. There appears to be much more truth in the doctrine of excess of food being the cause, though I much doubt whether this is the sole cause, although it may well be requisite for the kind of variation desired by man, namely increase of size and vigour. No doubt horticulturalists, when they wish to raise new seedlings, often pluck off all the flower-buds, except a few, or remove the whole during one season, so that a great stock of nutriment may be thrown into the flowers which are to seed. When plants are transported from high-lands, forests, marshes, heaths, into our gardens and greenhouses, there must be a considerable change of food, but it would be hard to prove that there was in every case an excess of the kind proper to the plant. If it be an excess of food, compared with that which the being obtained in its natural state212, the effects continue for an improbably long time; during how many ages has wheat been cultivated, and cattle and sheep reclaimed, and we cannot suppose their amount of food has gone on increasing, nevertheless these are amongst the most variable of our domestic productions. It has been remarked (Marshall) that some of the most highly kept breeds of sheep and cattle are truer or less variable than the straggling animals of the poor, which subsist on commons, and pick up a bare subsistence213. In the case of forest-trees raised in nurseries, which vary more than the same trees do in their aboriginal forests, the cause would seem simply to lie in their not having to struggle against other trees and weeds, which in their natural state doubtless would limit the conditions of their existence. It appears to me that the power of domestication resolves itself into the accumulated effects of a change of all or some of the natural conditions of the life of the species, often associated with excess of food. These conditions moreover, I may add, can seldom remain, owing to the mutability of the affairs, habits, migrations, and knowledge of man, for very long periods the same. I am the more inclined to come to this conclusion from finding, as we shall hereafter show, that changes of the natural conditions of existence seem peculiarly to affect the action of the reproductive system214. As we see that hybrids and mongrels, after the first generation, are apt to vary much, we may at least conclude that variability does not altogether depend on excess of food.
After these views, it may be asked how it comes that certain animals and plants, which have been domesticated for a considerable length of time, and transported from very different conditions of existence, have not varied much, or scarcely at all; for instance, the ass, peacock, guinea-fowl, asparagus, Jerusalem artichoke215. I have already said that probably different species, like different sub-varieties, possess different degrees of tendency to vary; but I am inclined to attribute in these cases the want of numerous races less to want of variability than to selection not having been practised on them. No one will take the pains to select without some corresponding object, either of use or amusement; the individuals raised must be tolerably numerous, and not so precious, but that he may freely destroy those not answering to his wishes. If guinea-fowls or peacocks216 became “fancy” birds, I cannot doubt that after some generations several breeds would be raised. Asses have not been worked on from mere neglect; but they differ in some degree in different countries. The insensible selection, due to different races of mankind preserving those individuals most useful to them in their different circumstances, will apply only to the oldest and most widely domesticated animals. In the case of plants, we must put entirely out of the case those exclusively (or almost so) propagated by cuttings, layers or tubers, such as the Jerusalem artichoke and laurel; and if we put on one side plants of little ornament or use, and those which are used at so early a period of their growth that no especial characters signify, as asparagus217 and seakale, I can think of none long cultivated which have not varied. In no case ought we to expect to find as much variation in a race when it alone has been formed, as when several have been formed, for their crossing and recrossing will greatly increase their variability.
Summary of first Chapter
To sum up this chapter. Races are made under domestication: 1st, by the direct effects of the external conditions to which the species is exposed: 2nd, by the indirect effects of the exposure to new conditions, often aided by excess of food, rendering the organization plastic, and by man’s selecting and separately breeding certain individuals, or introducing to his stock selected males, or often preserving with care the life of the individuals best adapted to his purposes: 3rd, by crossing and recrossing races already made, and selecting their offspring. After some generations man may relax his care in selection: for the tendency to vary and to revert to ancestral forms will decrease, so that he will have only occasionally to remove or destroy one of the yearly offspring which departs from its type. Ultimately, with a large stock, the effects of free crossing would keep, even without this care, his breed true. By these means man can produce infinitely numerous races, curiously adapted to ends, both most important and most frivolous; at the same time that the effects of the surrounding conditions, the laws of inheritance, of growth, and of variation, will modify and limit his labours.
CHAPTER II
ON THE VARIATION OF ORGANIC BEINGS IN A WILD STATE; ON THE NATURAL MEANS OF SELECTION; AND ON THE COMPARISON OF DOMESTIC RACES AND TRUE SPECIES
Having treated of variation under domestication, we now come to it in a state of nature.
Most organic beings in a state of nature vary exceedingly little218: I put out of the case variations (as stunted plants &c., and sea-shells in brackish water219) which are directly the effect of external agencies and which we do not know are in the breed220, or are hereditary. The amount of hereditary variation is very difficult to ascertain, because naturalists (partly from the want of knowledge, and partly from the inherent difficulty of the subject) do not all agree whether certain forms are species or races221. Some strongly marked races of plants, comparable with the decided sports of horticulturalists, undoubtedly exist in a state of nature, as is actually known by experiment, for instance in the primrose and cowslip222, in two so-called species of dandelion, in two of foxglove223, and I believe in some pines. Lamarck has observed that, as long as we confine our attention to one limited country, there is seldom much difficulty in deciding what forms to call species and what varieties; and that it is when collections flow in from all parts of the world that naturalists often feel at a loss to decide the limit of variation. Undoubtedly so it is, yet amongst British plants (and I may add land shells), which are probably better known than any in the world, the best naturalists differ very greatly in the relative proportions of what they call species and what varieties. In many genera of insects, and shells, and plants, it seems almost hopeless to establish which are which. In the higher classes there are less doubts; though we find considerable difficulty in ascertaining what deserve to be called species amongst foxes and wolves, and in some birds, for instance in the case of the white barn-owl. When specimens are brought from different parts of the world, how often do naturalists dispute this same question, as I found with respect to the birds brought from the Galapagos islands. Yarrell has remarked that the individuals of the same undoubted species of birds, from Europe and N. America, usually present slight, indefinable though perceptible differences. The recognition indeed of one animal by another of its kind seems to imply some difference. The disposition of wild animals undoubtedly differs. The variation, such as it is, chiefly affects the same parts in wild organisms as in domestic breeds; for instance, the size, colour, and the external and less important parts. In many species the variability of certain organs or qualities is even stated as one of the specific characters: thus, in plants, colour, size, hairiness, the number of the stamens and pistils, and even their presence, the form of the leaves; the size and form of the mandibles of the males of some insects; the length and curvature of the beak in some birds (as in Opetiorynchus) are variable characters in some species and quite fixed in others. I do not perceive that any just distinction can be drawn between this recognised variability of certain parts in many species and the more general variability of the whole frame in domestic races.
Although the amount of variation be exceedingly small in most organic beings in a state of nature, and probably quite wanting (as far as our senses serve) in the majority of cases; yet considering how many animals and plants, taken by mankind from different quarters of the world for the most diverse purposes, have varied under domestication in every country and in every age, I think we may safely conclude that all organic beings with few exceptions, if capable of being domesticated and bred for long periods, would vary. Domestication seems to resolve itself into a change from the natural conditions of the species [generally perhaps including an increase of food]; if this be so, organisms in a state of nature must occasionally, in the course of ages, be exposed to analogous influences; for geology clearly shows that many places must, in the course of time, become exposed to the widest range of climatic and other influences; and if such places be isolated, so that new and better adapted organic beings cannot freely emigrate, the old inhabitants will be exposed to new influences, probably far more varied, than man applies under the form of domestication. Although every species no doubt will soon breed up to the full number which the country will support, yet it is easy to conceive that, on an average, some species may receive an increase of food; for the times of dearth may be short, yet enough to kill, and recurrent only at long intervals. All such changes of conditions from geological causes would be exceedingly slow; what effect the slowness might have we are ignorant; under domestication it appears that the effects of change of conditions accumulate, and then break out. Whatever might be the result of these slow geological changes, we may feel sure, from the means of dissemination common in a lesser or greater degree to every organism taken conjointly with the changes of geology, which are steadily (and sometimes suddenly, as when an isthmus at last separates) in progress, that occasionally organisms must suddenly be introduced into new regions, where, if the conditions of existence are not so foreign as to cause its extermination, it will often be propagated under circumstances still more closely analogous to those of domestication; and therefore we expect will evince a tendency to vary. It appears to me quite inexplicable if this has never happened; but it can happen very rarely. Let us then suppose that an organism by some chance (which might be hardly repeated in 1000 years) arrives at a modern volcanic island in process of formation and not fully stocked with the most appropriate organisms; the new organism might readily gain a footing, although the external conditions were considerably different from its native ones. The effect of this we might expect would influence in some small degree the size, colour, nature of covering &c., and from inexplicable influences even special parts and organs of the body. But we might further (and «this» is far more important) expect that the reproductive system would be affected, as under domesticity, and the structure of the offspring rendered in some degree plastic. Hence almost every part of the body would tend to vary from the typical form in slight degrees, and in no determinate way, and therefore without selection the free crossing of these small variations (together with the tendency to reversion to the original form) would constantly be counteracting this unsettling effect of the extraneous conditions on the reproductive system. Such, I conceive, would be the unimportant result without selection. And here I must observe that the foregoing remarks are equally applicable to that small and admitted amount of variation which has been observed in some organisms in a state of nature; as well as to the above hypothetical variation consequent on changes of condition.
Let us now suppose a Being224 with penetration sufficient to perceive differences in the outer and innermost organization quite imperceptible to man, and with forethought extending over future centuries to watch with unerring care and select for any object the offspring of an organism produced under the foregoing circumstances; I can see no conceivable reason why he could not form a new race (or several were he to separate the stock of the original organism and work on several islands) adapted to new ends. As we assume his discrimination, and his forethought, and his steadiness of object, to be incomparably greater that those qualities in man, so we may suppose the beauty and complications of the adaptations of the new races and their differences from the original stock to be greater than in the domestic races produced by man’s agency: the ground-work of his labours we may aid by supposing that the external conditions of the volcanic island, from its continued emergence and the occasional introduction of new immigrants, vary; and thus to act on the reproductive system of the organism, on which he is at work, and so keep its organization somewhat plastic. With time enough, such a Being might rationally (without some unknown law opposed him) aim at almost any result.
For instance, let this imaginary Being wish, from seeing a plant growing on the decaying matter in a forest and choked by other plants, to give it power of growing on the rotten stems of trees, he would commence selecting every seedling whose berries were in the smallest degree more attractive to tree-frequenting birds, so as to cause a proper dissemination of the seeds, and at the same time he would select those plants which had in the slightest degree more and more power of drawing nutriment from rotten wood; and he would destroy all other seedlings with less of this power. He might thus, in the course of century after century, hope to make the plant by degrees grow on rotten wood, even high up on trees, wherever birds dropped the non-digested seeds. He might then, if the organization of the plant was plastic, attempt by continued selection of chance seedlings to make it grow on less and less rotten wood, till it would grow on sound wood225. Supposing again, during these changes the plant failed to seed quite freely from non-impregnation, he might begin selecting seedlings with a little sweeter «or» differently tasted honey or pollen, to tempt insects to visit the flowers regularly: having effected this, he might wish, if it profited the plant, to render abortive the stamens and pistils in different flowers, which he could do by continued selection. By such steps he might aim at making a plant as wonderfully related to other organic beings as is the mistletoe, whose existence absolutely depends on certain insects for impregnation, certain birds for transportal, and certain trees for growth. Furthermore, if the insect which had been induced regularly to visit this hypothetical plant profited much by it, our same Being might wish by selection to modify by gradual selection the insect’s structure, so as to facilitate its obtaining the honey or pollen: in this manner he might adapt the insect (always presupposing its organization to be in some degree plastic) to the flower, and the impregnation of the flower to the insect; as is the case with many bees and many plants.
Seeing what blind capricious man has actually effected by selection during the few last years, and what in a ruder state he has probably effected without any systematic plan during the last few thousand years, he will be a bold person who will positively put limits to what the supposed Being could effect during whole geological periods. In accordance with the plan by which this universe seems governed by the Creator, let us consider whether there exists any secondary means in the economy of nature by which the process of selection could go on adapting, nicely and wonderfully, organisms, if in ever so small a degree plastic, to diverse ends. I believe such secondary means do exist226.
