Mr. J. T. Marshall has given[178] an interesting account of the association of Montacuta ferruginosa with Echinocardium cordatum. The Echinoderm lives in muddy sand in Torbay, at a depth of about 6 inches, and the Montacuta lives in a burrow leading from its ventral end and running irregularly in a sloping direction for 3 or 4 inches, the burrow, which is made by a current from the Echinoderm, being almost exactly the width of the Montacuta. The Montacuta were always arranged in the burrows in order of size, the largest being close to the Echinoderm, and the smallest of a string of about six at the other end of the burrow. In another part of S. Devon, where the sand was soft and sloppy, the Echinocardia rise to the surface and travel along the sand; in this case the Montacuta were attached to their host by means of a byssus, and were dragged along as it travelled.
The Rev. Dr. Norman has noted[179] a somewhat similar habitat for Lepton squamosum. This rare little British species was found at Salcombe, living in the burrows of Gebia stellata, in all probability feeding upon the secretions from the body of the crustacean. Dr. Norman suggests that the extreme flatness of the shell of the Lepton is of great advantage in enabling it not to get in the way of the Gebia as he scuttles up and down his burrow. Another species of Lepton is found on the coast of Florida in a precisely similar locality,[180] while a third species, occurring on the Oregon and California coasts, actually attaches itself to the inner surface of the abdomen of a Gebia.[181]
Fig. 32.—Ephippodonta Macdougalli Tate, S. Australia. A, Burrow of prawn, the X indicating the position of the mollusc; sp, sponge. B, Ventral view of Ephippodonta; by, byssus; f, foot; m, mantle; mm, fused mantle borders. C, View of interior of shells; h, hinge; m´m´, adductor muscles. (A × ½; B and C × 2.)
A very singular case of commensalism has been recently discovered with regard to a genus of Australian bivalve shells, Ephippodonta. This genus is never found except in the burrow of a species of prawn (Axius plectorhynchus Str.). For some reason at present unexplained, the burrow of this particular prawn appears to be exceedingly popular as a habitat for certain bivalves, for, besides two species of Ephippodonta, a Kellia and three Mylitta are found there, and there alone. Sometimes the prawn, when the rock is hard, builds a tunnel of mud upon it, at other times it excavates the soft calciferous sandstone. “This burrow is lined with a tenacious brown mud, composed of excrementitious matter; and, in addition to the mud lining, there is always more or less present an orange-coloured sponge which I have never found elsewhere. Upon the mud or sponge, and adhering very closely, are found the Ephippodonta. They quickly form a pit-like depression by means of their foot, and appear almost covered by the mud.” During the winter months (March-July) the prawn appears to fill his burrow, possibly as a provision against stormy weather, with large quantities of minced seaweed, underneath which immense numbers of very young Ephippodonta are found living.[182] The extreme flatness of the Ephippodonta must be due to the same cause as the flatness of the Lepton noticed above, namely, the necessity of not impeding or interfering with the lively motions of the prawn. In the case of Lepton the two valves close completely and the shell is still very flat; in Ephippodonta, on the other hand, the same result is produced by the valves being opened to their widest possible extent. As in Entovalva, a continuation of the mantle covers the outer surface of the shell.
Variation
It is a familiar experience to the student, not only of the Mollusca, but of every branch of animal or vegetable life, to come across examples which exhibit certain slight deviations from the type form as usually understood. These deviations may be more or less pronounced, but, as a rule, a series of forms can be discovered, gradually leading up to or down from the type. The definition of what constitutes a species,—and, still more, the rigid application of such definition—will always remain a difficult task, so long as the personal element persists in him who defines.[183] What seems to one authority ample ground for distinction of species, another may regard as of comparatively trivial importance. The practical outcome of these divergent views is sufficiently illustrated by the attitude of Mr. F. P. Marrat on the one hand, and of what may be called the modern French school of conchologists on the other. Mr. Marrat holds, or held, that the great genus Nassa, of which more than 150 species are generally recognised, is one shell (species) in an endless variety of forms. The modern French school go to the other extreme, and apparently proceed upon the view that almost any difference in form, however slight, is sufficient to constitute a separate species.
It will be generally admitted, however, that some structural difference in the organisation of the animal (as distinct from that of the shell alone) is necessary for the permanent constitution of specific rank.[184] What amount of structural difference is required, what particular organ or organs must exhibit this difference, will depend largely upon the idiosyncrasy of the observer. But if this, or something like this definition of a species be accepted, it will follow that a so-called ‘variety’ will be a form which exhibits differences from the type which do not amount to permanent structural differences in the organisation of the animal. The final court of appeal as to what affords sufficient evidence for ‘permanent structural differences’ will have to be, as with Aristotle of old, the judgment of the educated man.
It is, however, more to our present purpose to discuss the causes of variation than to lay down definitions of what variation is. One of the most obvious causes of variation lies in a change or changes in the environment. If we may assume, for the moment, that the type form of a species is the form which is the mean of all the extremes, and that this form is the resultant of all the varied forces brought to bear upon it, whether of food, climate, temperature, competition of numbers, soil, light, amount of water, etc., it will follow that any change in one or more of these forces, if continuous and considerable, any change, in other words, of the environment, will produce its effect upon the organism in question. And this effect will be for the better or for the worse, according to the particular nature of the change itself as tending towards, or away from, the optimum of environment for the species concerned. Hence may be produced varieties, more or less marked according to the gravity of the change, although it must be noted that at times a change apparently unimportant from our point of view, will produce very marked results upon the species. It is indeed scarcely possible to predict with any certainty, in the present state of our knowledge (beyond certain broad results) what will be the particular effect upon a species of any given change in its surroundings.
Effects of Change in the Environment as tending to produce Variation.