The Evolution Theory, Vol. 1 of 2

by August Weismann

This point is vividly illustrated by Darwin's observation of a wide heath on which stood only a few groups of old pine-trees. The mere fencing in of a portion of the heath sufficed to call forth a thick growth of young seedling pines within the enclosure, and an examination of the open part of the heath revealed that the grazing cattle had eaten up all the young pine-trees which sprang from seed, and that again and again. In one small space thirty-two little trees stood concealed in the grass, and several of these showed as many as twenty-six yearly rings.

How definitely the number of individuals in different species living on the same area mutually limit and thereby regulate each other, Darwin sought to illustrate also by the case of the primitive forest, where the numerous species of plants occur, not mixed together irregularly, but in a definite proportion. We can find examples of the same kind wherever the plant-growth of a district has been left to itself. If we walk along the banks of our little river, the Dreisam, we see a wild confusion of the most diverse trees, shrubs and herbaceous plants. But, even though it cannot be demonstrated, we may be certain that these are represented in definite numerical proportions, dependent on the natural qualities and requirements of each species, on the number of their seeds and the facilities for their distribution, on the favourable or unfavourable season at which they ripen, and on their varying capacity for taking root in the worst ground, and springing quickly up, &c. They limit each other mutually, so that the whole flora of the river-bank will be made up of one per cent. of this species, one per cent. of that, and, it may be, five per cent. of a third, and the same combination will repeat itself in the same proportions on the banks of other rivers of our country in as far as the external conditions are the same. The same must be true of the fauna of such a plant-thicket; the animal species also limit one another mutually, and thereby regulate the number of individuals, which becomes relatively stable over any area on which the conditions remain the same. That is to say, a 'normal number' is attained and persists.

Thus we see that the capacity for boundless multiplication inherent in every species is limited by the co-existence of other species; there is, metaphorically speaking, a continuous struggle going on between species, plant and animal alike; each seeks as far as possible to multiply, and each is hemmed in by the others and as far as possible prevented from doing so. The 'struggle' is by no means only the direct limitation of the number of individuals, which consists in the use of one species by another as food, as in beasts of prey and their victims, or locusts and plants; it is much more the indirect limitation—figuratively speaking, the struggle for space, for light, for moisture among plants, for food among animals. But all this, important as it is, does not yet exhaust the content of that 'struggle for existence' to which Darwin and Wallace ascribe the rôle of the breeder in the process of natural selection. The struggle, that is, the mutual limiting of species, may indeed restrict a species in its distribution, and may reduce its normal number possibly to nil. In other words, it may bring about extinction, but it cannot make a species other than it is. This can only be done by a struggle within the limits of the species itself, and this struggle is due to the fact that of the numerous offspring, on an average those survive—that is, attain to reproduction—which are the most fit, whose constitution makes it most possible for them to overcome the difficulties and dangers of life, and so to reach maturity. We see, in fact, that a large percentage of each generation in all species always perishes before attaining maturity. If, then, the decision as to which is to perish and which is to reach maturity is not a matter of chance alone, but is in part due to the constitution of the growing individual; if the 'fittest' do on the average survive, and the 'least fit' are on the average eliminated, we have here a process of selection entirely comparable to that of artificial selection, and one whose result must be the 'improvement' of the species, whether that depends on one set of characters or on another. The victorious qualities, which earlier were peculiar to certain individuals, must gradually become the common property of the species, if in each generation the individuals which attained to reproduction all possessed them, and thus could transmit them to their progeny. But those of the descendants which did not inherit them would again be at a disadvantage in the struggle for existence, or rather for reaching maturity, if in each generation a higher percentage of individuals which possess these characters reach maturity than of those which do not possess them. This percentage must increase in each generation, because, in each, natural selection again chooses out the fittest, and it must finally rise to 100 per cent., that is to say, none but individuals of this fittest type will be left surviving.

This does not yet exhaust the process, however, for we can infer from the results of artificial breed-forming that the selected characters may intensify from generation to generation, and that they will continue to do so as long as it gives them any advantage in the struggle for existence, for so long will it lead to the more frequent survival of its possessors. The increase will only stop when it has reached the highest degree of usefulness, and in this way new characters may be formed, just as, in artificial selection, the short upward-turning feathers of the Jacobin pigeon have been intensified into the peruke, a feather canopy covering the head.

A few examples of natural selection will make the process clearer. Our hare is well secured from discovery by his fur of mixed brown, yellow, white, and black, when he cowers in his form among the dry leaves of the underwood. It is easy to pass close to him without seeing him. But if the ground and the bushes are covered with snow, he contrasts conspicuously with them. Suppose, now, that our climate became colder, and that the winter brought lasting snow, the hares which had the largest mixture of white in their fur would have an advantage in their 'struggle for existence' over their darker fellows; they would be less easily discovered by their enemies—the fox, the badger, the horned owl, and the wild cat. Of the numerous hares which would annually become the prey of these enemies, there would be, on an average, more dark than light individuals. The percentage of light-coloured hares would, therefore, increase from generation to generation, and the longer the winter the keener would be the selection between dark and light hares, until finally none but light ones would remain. At the same time, the colour of the hares would become increasingly light, first, because it would happen more and more frequently that two light hares would pair, and secondly, because, after a time, the struggle for existence would no longer be between light and dark hares, but between light hares and still lighter ones. Thus ultimately a race of white hares would arise, as has actually happened in the Arctic regions and on the Alps.

Or let us think of a herbaceous plant, in appearance something like a belladonna, rich in leaves and very juicy, but not poisonous. It would doubtless be a favourite food with the animals of the forest, and it would not, therefore, attain to more than a sparse occurrence, since few of the individuals would be able to form seeds. But now let us assume that a stuff of very unpleasant taste develops in the stem and leaves of some of the individuals, as may easily happen through very slight changes in the chemical metabolism of the plant, what, then, could result but that such individuals would be less readily eaten than the others? A process of selection must, therefore, ensue, and the unpleasant-tasting specimens of the plant would be much more frequently spared, and consequently would bear seed much oftener than the palatable ones. Thus the number of unpalatable plants would increase from year to year. If the stuff in question were not only unpalatable but poisonous, or gradually became so, a plant would in time be evolved which would be absolutely safe from being devoured by animals, just as the deadly nightshade (Atropa belladonna) actually is.

Or let us suppose that a stretch of water is inhabited by a species of carp, which have hitherto had no large enemy, and so have become lazy and slow, and that there migrates from the sea into this stretch of water a large species of pike. At first numerous carp will fall victims to the pike, and the pike will rapidly increase in number. But if all the carp were not equally lazy and dull-witted, if some of them were quicker and more intelligent, these would, on an average, become more rarely the victims of the pike, and numerous individuals with these better qualities would survive in each generation, till ultimately there were no others, and the useful characters would gradually become intensified, and so a more active and wary race of carp would arise.

Let us suppose, however, that the increased activity and wariness would not alone suffice to preserve the colony from extinction; it might require also an increased fertility to prevent the normal number from being permanently lowered; but even this could eventually be brought about by natural selection, if the nature of the species and the general conditions of its life permitted. For there are variations of fertility in every species, and if the chance of seeing some of its eggs become mature animals were greater for the more fertile female than for the less fertile, ceteris paribus, a process of selection must take place, which would result in an increase of fertility as far as that was possible.

Obviously, such processes of natural selection can affect all parts and characters—size and form of the body, as well as isolated parts, the external skin and its colour, every internal organ—and not bodily characters alone, but psychical ones as well, such as intelligence and instincts. According to this principle, it is only characters which are biologically indifferent that cannot be altered through natural selection.