As the poisonous secretion of insects belonging to various orders has the special power of affecting the growth of various plants; as a slight difference in the nature of the poison suffices to produce widely different results; and lastly, as we know that the chemical compounds secreted by plants are eminently liable to be modified by changed conditions of life, we may believe it possible that various parts of a plant might be modified through the agency of its own altered secretions. Compare, for instance, the mossy and viscid calyx of a moss-rose, which suddenly appears through bud-variation on a Provence-rose, with the gall of red moss growing from the inoculated leaf of a wild rose, with each filament symmetrically branched like a microscopical spruce-fir, bearing a glandular tip and secreting odoriferous gummy matter.[[54]] Or compare, on the one hand, the fruit of the peach, with its hairy skin, fleshy covering, hard shell and kernel, and on the other hand one of the more complex galls with its epidermic, spongy, and woody layers, surrounding tissue loaded with starch granules. These normal and abnormal structures manifestly present a certain degree of resemblance. Or, again, reflect on the cases above given of parrots which have had their plumage brightly decorated through some change in their blood, caused by having been fed on certain fishes, or locally inoculated with the poison of a toad. I am far from wishing to maintain that the moss-rose or the hard shell of the peach-stone or the bright colours of birds are actually due to any chemical change in the sap or blood; but these cases of galls and of parrots are excellently adapted to show us how powerfully and singularly external agencies may affect structure. With such facts before us, we need feel no surprise at the appearance of any modification in any organic being.
I may, also, here allude to the remarkable effects which parasitic fungi sometimes produce on plants. Reissek[[55]] has described a Thesium, affected by an Œcidium, which was greatly modified, and assumed some of the characteristic features of certain allied species, or even genera. Suppose, says Reissek, “the condition originally caused by the fungus to become constant in the course of time, the plant would, if found growing wild, be considered as a distinct species or even as belonging to a new genus.” I quote this remark to show how profoundly, yet in how natural a manner, this plant must have been modified by the parasitic fungus. Mr. Meehan[[56]] also states that three species of Euphorbia and Portulaca olereacea, which naturally grow prostrate, become erect when they are attacked by the Œcidium. Euphorbia maculata in this case also becomes nodose, with the branchlets comparatively smooth and the leaves modified in shape, approaching in these respects to a distinct species, namely, the E. hypericifolia.
Facts and Considerations opposed to the belief that the Conditions of Life act in a potent manner in causing definite Modifications of Structure
I have alluded to the slight differences in species naturally living in distinct countries under different conditions; and such differences we feel at first inclined to attribute, probably often with justice, to the definite action of the surrounding conditions. But it must be borne in mind that there exist many animals and plants which range widely and have been exposed to great diversities of climate, yet remain uniform in character. Some authors, as previously remarked, account for the varieties of our culinary and agricultural plants by the definite action of the conditions to which they have been exposed in the different parts of Great Britain; but there are about 200 plants[[57]] which are found in every single English county; and these plants must have been exposed for an immense period to considerable differences of climate and soil, yet do not differ. So, again, some animals and plants range over a large portion of the world, yet retain the same character.
Notwithstanding the facts previously given on the occurrence of highly peculiar local diseases and on the strange modifications of structure in plants caused by the inoculated poison of insects, and other analogous cases; still there are a multitude of variations—such as the modified skull of the niata ox and bulldog, the long horns of Caffre cattle, the conjoined toes of the solid-hoofed swine, the immense crest and protuberant skull of Polish fowls, the crop of the pouter-pigeon, and a host of other such cases—which we can hardly attribute to the definite action, in the sense before specified, of the external conditions of life. No doubt in every case there must have been some exciting cause; but as we see innumerable individuals exposed to nearly the same conditions, and one alone is affected, we may conclude that the constitution of the individual is of far higher importance than the conditions to which it has been exposed. It seems, indeed, to be a general rule that conspicuous variations occur rarely, and in one individual alone out of millions, though all may have been exposed, as far as we can judge, to nearly the same conditions. As the most strongly marked variations graduate insensibly into the most trifling, we are led by the same train of thought to attribute each slight variation much more to innate differences of constitution, however caused, than to the definite action of the surrounding conditions.
We are led to the same conclusion by considering the cases, formerly alluded to, of fowls and pigeons, which have varied and will no doubt go on varying in directly opposite ways, though kept during many generations under nearly the same conditions. Some, for instance, are born with their beaks, wings, tails, legs, etc., a little longer, and others with these same parts a little shorter. By the long-continued selection of such slight individual differences which occur in birds kept in the same aviary, widely different races could certainly be formed; and long-continued selection, important as is the result, does nothing but preserve the variations which arise, as it appears to us, spontaneously.
In these cases we see that domesticated animals vary in an indefinite number of particulars, though treated as uniformly as is possible. On the other hand, there are instances of animals and plants, which, though they have been exposed to very different conditions, both under nature and domestication, have varied in nearly the same manner. Mr. Layard informs me that he has observed amongst the Caffres of South Africa a dog singularly like an arctic Esquimaux dog. Pigeons in India present nearly the same wide diversities of colour as in Europe; and I have seen chequered and simply barred pigeons, and pigeons with blue and white loins, from Sierra Leone, Madeira, England, and India. New varieties of flowers are continually raised in different parts of Great Britain, but many of these are found by the judges at our exhibitions to be almost identical with old varieties. A vast number of new fruit-trees and culinary vegetables have been produced in North America: these differ from European varieties in the same general manner as the several varieties raised in Europe differ from one another; and no one has ever pretended that the climate of America has given to the many American varieties any general character by which they can be recognised. Nevertheless, from the facts previously advanced on the authority of Mr. Meehan with respect to American and European forest-trees it would be rash to affirm that varieties raised in the two countries would not in the course of ages assume a distinctive character. Dr. M. Masters has recorded a striking fact[[58]] bearing on this subject: he raised numerous plants of Hybiscus syriacus from seed collected in South Carolina and the Holy Land, where the parent-plants must have been exposed to considerably different conditions; yet the seedlings from both localities broke into two similar strains, one with obtuse leaves and purple or crimson flowers, and the other with elongated leaves and more or less pink flowers.
We may, also, infer the prepotent influence of the constitution of the organism over the definite action of the conditions of life, from the several cases given in the earlier chapters of parallel series of varieties,—an important subject, hereafter to be more fully discussed. Sub-varieties of the several kinds of wheat, gourds, peaches, and other plants, and to a limited extent sub-varieties of the fowl, pigeon, and dog, have been shown either to resemble or to differ from one another in a closely corresponding or parallel manner. In other cases, a variety of one species resembles a distinct species; or the varieties of two distinct species resemble one another. Although these parallel resemblances no doubt often result from reversion to the former characters of a common progenitor; yet in other cases, when new characters first appear, the resemblance must be attributed to the inheritance of a similar constitution, and consequently to a tendency to vary in the same manner. We see something of a similar kind in the same monstrosity appearing and reappearing many times in the same species of animal, and, as Dr. Maxwell Masters has remarked to me, in the same species of plant.
We may at least conclude, that the amount of modification which animals and plants have undergone under domestication does not correspond with the degree to which they have been subjected to changed circumstances. As we know the parentage of domesticated birds far better than of most quadrupeds, we will glance through the list. The pigeon has varied in Europe more than almost any other bird; yet it is a native species, and has not been exposed to any extraordinary change of conditions. The fowl has varied equally, or almost equally, with the pigeon, and is a native of the hot jungles of India. Neither the peacock, a native of the same country, nor the guinea-fowl, an inhabitant of the dry deserts of Africa, has varied at all, or only in colour. The turkey, from Mexico, has varied but little. The duck, on the other hand, a native of Europe, has yielded some well-marked races; and as this is an aquatic bird, it must have been subjected to a far more serious change in its habits than the pigeon or even the fowl, which nevertheless have varied in a much higher degree. The goose, a native of Europe and aquatic like the duck, has varied less than any other domesticated bird, except the peacock.
Bud-variation is, also, important under our present point of view, in some few cases, as when all the eyes on the same tuber of the potato, or all the fruit on the same plum-tree, or all the flowers on the same plant, have suddenly varied in the same manner, it might be argued that the variation had been definitely caused by some change in the conditions to which the plants had been exposed; yet, in other cases, such an admission is extremely difficult. As new characters sometimes appear by bud-variation, which do not occur in the parent-species or in any allied species, we may reject, at least in these cases, the idea that they are due to reversion. Now it is well worth while to reflect maturely on some striking case of bud-variation, for instance that of the peach. This tree has been cultivated by the million in various parts of the world, has been treated differently, grown on its own roots and grafted on various stocks, planted as a standard, trained against a wall, or under glass; yet each bud of each sub-variety keeps true to its kind. But occasionally, at long intervals of time, a tree in England, or under the widely different climate of Virginia, produces a single bud, and this yields a branch which ever afterwards bears nectarines. Nectarines differ, as every one knows, from peaches in their smoothness, size, and flavour; and the difference is so great that some botanists have maintained that they are specifically distinct. So permanent are the characters thus suddenly acquired, that a nectarine produced by bud-variation has propagated itself by seed. To guard against the supposition that there is some fundamental distinction between bud and seminal variation, it is well to bear in mind that nectarines have likewise been produced from the stone of the peach; and, reversely, peaches from the stone of the nectarine. Now is it possible to conceive external conditions more closely alike than those to which the buds on the same tree are exposed? Yet one bud alone, out of the many thousands borne by the same tree, has suddenly, without any apparent cause, produced a nectarine. But the case is even stronger than this, for the same flower-bud has yielded a fruit, one-half or one-quarter a nectarine, and the other half or three-quarters a peach. Again, seven or eight varieties of the peach have yielded by bud-variation nectarines: the nectarines thus produced, no doubt, differ a little from one another; but still they are nectarines. Of course there must be some cause, internal or external, to excite the peach-bud to change its nature; but I cannot imagine a class of facts better adapted to force on our minds the conviction that what we call the external conditions of life are in many cases quite insignificant in relation to any particular variation, in comparison with the organisation or constitution of the being which varies.