CHAPTER II.

VARIATION UNDER NATURE.

Variability—Individual differences—Doubtful species—Wide ranging, much

diffused, and common species, vary most—Species of the larger genera in

each country vary more frequently than the species of the smaller

genera—Many of the species of the larger genera resemble varieties in

being very closely, but unequally, related to each other, and in having

restricted ranges.

Before applying the principles arrived at in the last chapter to

organic beings in a state of nature, we must briefly discuss whether

these latter are subject to any variation. To treat this subject

properly, a long catalogue of dry facts ought to be given; but these I

shall reserve for a future work. Nor shall I here discuss the various

definitions which have been given of the term species. No one

definition has satisfied all naturalists; yet every naturalist knows

vaguely what he means when he speaks of a species. Generally the term

includes the unknown element of a distinct act of creation. The term

“variety” is almost equally difficult to define; but here community of

descent is almost universally implied, though it can rarely be proved.

We have also what are called monstrosities; but they graduate into

varieties. By a monstrosity I presume is meant some considerable

deviation of structure, generally injurious, or not useful to the

species. Some authors use the term “variation” in a technical sense, as

implying a modification directly due to the physical conditions of

life; and “variations” in this sense are supposed not to be inherited;

but who can say that the dwarfed condition of shells in the brackish

waters of the Baltic, or dwarfed plants on Alpine summits, or the

thicker fur of an animal from far northwards, would not in some cases

be inherited for at least a few generations? And in this case I presume

that the form would be called a variety.

It may be doubted whether sudden and considerable deviations of

structure, such as we occasionally see in our domestic productions,

more especially with plants, are ever permanently propagated in a state

of nature. Almost every part of every organic being is so beautifully

related to its complex conditions of life that it seems as improbable

that any part should have been suddenly produced perfect, as that a

complex machine should have been invented by man in a perfect state.

Under domestication monstrosities sometimes occur which resemble normal

structures in widely different animals. Thus pigs have occasionally

been born with a sort of proboscis, and if any wild species of the same

genus had naturally possessed a proboscis, it might have been argued

that this had appeared as a monstrosity; but I have as yet failed to

find, after diligent search, cases of monstrosities resembling normal

structures in nearly allied forms, and these alone bear on the

question. If monstrous forms of this kind ever do appear in a state of

nature and are capable of reproduction (which is not always the case),

as they occur rarely and singly, their preservation would depend on

unusually favourable circumstances. They would, also, during the first

and succeeding generations cross with the ordinary form, and thus their

abnormal character would almost inevitably be lost. But I shall have to

return in a future chapter to the preservation and perpetuation of

single or occasional variations.

_Individual Differences._

The many slight differences which appear in the offspring from the same

parents, or which it may be presumed have thus arisen, from being

observed in the individuals of the same species inhabiting the same

confined locality, may be called individual differences. No one

supposes that all the individuals of the same species are cast in the

same actual mould. These individual differences are of the highest

importance for us, for they are often inherited, as must be familiar to

every one; and they thus afford materials for natural selection to act

on and accumulate, in the same manner as man accumulates in any given

direction individual differences in his domesticated productions. These

individual differences generally affect what naturalists consider

unimportant parts; but I could show, by a long catalogue of facts, that

parts which must be called important, whether viewed under a

physiological or classificatory point of view, sometimes vary in the

individuals of the same species. I am convinced that the most

experienced naturalist would be surprised at the number of the cases of

variability, even in important parts of structure, which he could

collect on good authority, as I have collected, during a course of

years. It should be remembered that systematists are far from being

pleased at finding variability in important characters, and that there

are not many men who will laboriously examine internal and important

organs, and compare them in many specimens of the same species. It

would never have been expected that the branching of the main nerves

close to the great central ganglion of an insect would have been

variable in the same species; it might have been thought that changes

of this nature could have been effected only by slow degrees; yet Sir

J. Lubbock has shown a degree of variability in these main nerves in

Coccus, which may almost be compared to the irregular branching of the

stem of a tree. This philosophical naturalist, I may add, has also

shown that the muscles in the larvæ of certain insects are far from

uniform. Authors sometimes argue in a circle when they state that

important organs never vary; for these same authors practically rank

those parts as important (as some few naturalists have honestly

confessed) which do not vary; and, under this point of view, no

instance will ever be found of an important part varying; but under any

other point of view many instances assuredly can be given.

There is one point connected with individual differences which is

extremely perplexing: I refer to those genera which have been called

“protean” or “polymorphic,” in which species present an inordinate

amount of variation. With respect to many of these forms, hardly two

naturalists agree whether to rank them as species or as varieties. We

may instance Rubus, Rosa, and Hieracium among plants, several genera of

insects, and of Brachiopod shells. In most polymorphic genera some of

the species have fixed and definite characters. Genera which are

polymorphic in one country seem to be, with a few exceptions,

polymorphic in other countries, and likewise, judging from Brachiopod

shells, at former periods of time. These facts are very perplexing, for

they seem to show that this kind of variability is independent of the

conditions of life. I am inclined to suspect that we see, at least in

some of these polymorphic genera, variations which are of no service or

disservice to the species, and which consequently have not been seized

on and rendered definite by natural selection, as hereafter to be

explained.

Individuals of the same species often present, as is known to every

one, great differences of structure, independently of variation, as in

the two sexes of various animals, in the two or three castes of sterile

females or workers among insects, and in the immature and larval states

of many of the lower animals. There are, also, cases of dimorphism and

trimorphism, both with animals and plants. Thus, Mr. Wallace, who has

lately called attention to the subject, has shown that the females of

certain species of butterflies, in the Malayan Archipelago, regularly

appear under two or even three conspicuously distinct forms, not

connected by intermediate varieties. Fritz Müller has described

analogous but more extraordinary cases with the males of certain

Brazilian Crustaceans: thus, the male of a Tanais regularly occurs

under two distinct forms; one of these has strong and differently

shaped pincers, and the other has antennæ much more abundantly

furnished with smelling-hairs. Although in most of these cases, the two

or three forms, both with animals and plants, are not now connected by

intermediate gradations, it is possible that they were once thus

connected. Mr. Wallace, for instance, describes a certain butterfly

which presents in the same island a great range of varieties connected

by intermediate links, and the extreme links of the chain closely

resemble the two forms of an allied dimorphic species inhabiting

another part of the Malay Archipelago. Thus also with ants, the several

worker-castes are generally quite distinct; but in some cases, as we

shall hereafter see, the castes are connected together by finely

graduated varieties. So it is, as I have myself observed, with some

dimorphic plants. It certainly at first appears a highly remarkable

fact that the same female butterfly should have the power of producing

at the same time three distinct female forms and a male; and that an

hermaphrodite plant should produce from the same seed-capsule three

distinct hermaphrodite forms, bearing three different kinds of females

and three or even six different kinds of males. Nevertheless these

cases are only exaggerations of the common fact that the female

produces offspring of two sexes which sometimes differ from each other

in a wonderful manner.

_Doubtful Species._

The forms which possess in some considerable degree the character of

species, but which are so closely similar to other forms, or are so

closely linked to them by intermediate gradations, that naturalists do

not like to rank them as distinct species, are in several respects the

most important for us. We have every reason to believe that many of

these doubtful and closely allied forms have permanently retained their

characters for a long time; for as long, as far as we know, as have

good and true species. Practically, when a naturalist can unite by

means of intermediate links any two forms, he treats the one as a

variety of the other, ranking the most common, but sometimes the one

first described as the species, and the other as the variety. But cases

of great difficulty, which I will not here enumerate, sometimes arise

in deciding whether or not to rank one form as a variety of another,

even when they are closely connected by intermediate links; nor will

the commonly assumed hybrid nature of the intermediate forms always

remove the difficulty. In very many cases, however, one form is ranked

as a variety of another, not because the intermediate links have

actually been found, but because analogy leads the observer to suppose

either that they do now somewhere exist, or may formerly have existed;

and here a wide door for the entry of doubt and conjecture is opened.

Hence, in determining whether a form should be ranked as a species or a

variety, the opinion of naturalists having sound judgment and wide

experience seems the only guide to follow. We must, however, in many

cases, decide by a majority of naturalists, for few well-marked and

well-known varieties can be named which have not been ranked as species

by at least some competent judges.

That varieties of this doubtful nature are far from uncommon cannot be

disputed. Compare the several floras of Great Britain, of France, or of

the United States, drawn up by different botanists, and see what a

surprising number of forms have been ranked by one botanist as good

species, and by another as mere varieties. Mr. H.C. Watson, to whom I

lie under deep obligation for assistance of all kinds, has marked for

me 182 British plants, which are generally considered as varieties, but

which have all been ranked by botanists as species; and in making this

list he has omitted many trifling varieties, but which nevertheless

have been ranked by some botanists as species, and he has entirely

omitted several highly polymorphic genera. Under genera, including the

most polymorphic forms, Mr. Babington gives 251 species, whereas Mr.

Bentham gives only 112—a difference of 139 doubtful forms! Among

animals which unite for each birth, and which are highly locomotive,

doubtful forms, ranked by one zoologist as a species and by another as

a variety, can rarely be found within the same country, but are common

in separated areas. How many of the birds and insects in North America

and Europe, which differ very slightly from each other, have been

ranked by one eminent naturalist as undoubted species, and by another

as varieties, or, as they are often called, geographical races! Mr.

Wallace, in several valuable papers on the various animals, especially

on the Lepidoptera, inhabiting the islands of the great Malayan

Archipelago, shows that they may be classed under four heads, namely,

as variable forms, as local forms, as geographical races or

sub-species, and as true representative species. The first or variable

forms vary much within the limits of the same island. The local forms

are moderately constant and distinct in each separate island; but when

all from the several islands are compared together, the differences are

seen to be so slight and graduated that it is impossible to define or

describe them, though at the same time the extreme forms are

sufficiently distinct. The geographical races or sub-species are local

forms completely fixed and isolated; but as they do not differ from

each other by strongly marked and important characters, “There is no

possible test but individual opinion to determine which of them shall

be considered as species and which as varieties.” Lastly,

representative species fill the same place in the natural economy of

each island as do the local forms and sub-species; but as they are

distinguished from each other by a greater amount of difference than

that between the local forms and sub-species, they are almost

universally ranked by naturalists as true species. Nevertheless, no

certain criterion can possibly be given by which variable forms, local

forms, sub species and representative species can be recognised.

Many years ago, when comparing, and seeing others compare, the birds

from the closely neighbouring islands of the Galapagos Archipelago, one

with another, and with those from the American mainland, I was much

struck how entirely vague and arbitrary is the distinction between

species and varieties. On the islets of the little Madeira group there

are many insects which are characterized as varieties in Mr.

Wollaston’s admirable work, but which would certainly be ranked as

distinct species by many entomologists. Even Ireland has a few animals,

now generally regarded as varieties, but which have been ranked as

species by some zoologists. Several experienced ornithologists consider

our British red grouse as only a strongly marked race of a Norwegian

species, whereas the greater number rank it as an undoubted species

peculiar to Great Britain. A wide distance between the homes of two

doubtful forms leads many naturalists to rank them as distinct species;

but what distance, it has been well asked, will suffice if that between

America and Europe is ample, will that between Europe and the Azores,

or Madeira, or the Canaries, or between the several islets of these

small archipelagos, be sufficient?

Mr. B.D. Walsh, a distinguished entomologist of the United States, has

described what he calls Phytophagic varieties and Phytophagic species.

Most vegetable-feeding insects live on one kind of plant or on one

group of plants; some feed indiscriminately on many kinds, but do not

in consequence vary. In several cases, however, insects found living on

different plants, have been observed by Mr. Walsh to present in their

larval or mature state, or in both states, slight, though constant

differences in colour, size, or in the nature of their secretions. In

some instances the males alone, in other instances, both males and

females, have been observed thus to differ in a slight degree. When the

differences are rather more strongly marked, and when both sexes and

all ages are affected, the forms are ranked by all entomologists as

good species. But no observer can determine for another, even if he can

do so for himself, which of these Phytophagic forms ought to be called

species and which varieties. Mr. Walsh ranks the forms which it may be

supposed would freely intercross, as varieties; and those which appear

to have lost this power, as species. As the differences depend on the

insects having long fed on distinct plants, it cannot be expected that

intermediate links connecting the several forms should now be found.

The naturalist thus loses his best guide in determining whether to rank

doubtful forms as varieties or species. This likewise necessarily

occurs with closely allied organisms, which inhabit distinct continents

or islands. When, on the other hand, an animal or plant ranges over the

same continent, or inhabits many islands in the same archipelago, and

presents different forms in the different areas, there is always a good

chance that intermediate forms will be discovered which will link

together the extreme states; and these are then degraded to the rank of

varieties.

Some few naturalists maintain that animals never present varieties; but

then these same naturalists rank the slightest difference as of

specific value; and when the same identical form is met with in two

distant countries, or in two geological formations, they believe that

two distinct species are hidden under the same dress. The term species

thus comes to be a mere useless abstraction, implying and assuming a

separate act of creation. It is certain that many forms, considered by

highly competent judges to be varieties, resemble species so completely

in character that they have been thus ranked by other highly competent

judges. But to discuss whether they ought to be called species or

varieties, before any definition of these terms has been generally

accepted, is vainly to beat the air.

Many of the cases of strongly marked varieties or doubtful species well

deserve consideration; for several interesting lines of argument, from

geographical distribution, analogical variation, hybridism, &c., have

been brought to bear in the attempt to determine their rank; but space

does not here permit me to discuss them. Close investigation, in many

cases, will no doubt bring naturalists to agree how to rank doubtful

forms. Yet it must be confessed that it is in the best known countries

that we find the greatest number of them. I have been struck with the

fact that if any animal or plant in a state of nature be highly useful

to man, or from any cause closely attracts his attention, varieties of

it will almost universally be found recorded. These varieties,

moreover, will often be ranked by some authors as species. Look at the

common oak, how closely it has been studied; yet a German author makes

more than a dozen species out of forms, which are almost universally

considered by other botanists to be varieties; and in this country the

highest botanical authorities and practical men can be quoted to show

that the sessile and pedunculated oaks are either good and distinct

species or mere varieties.

I may here allude to a remarkable memoir lately published by A. de

Candolle, on the oaks of the whole world. No one ever had more ample

materials for the discrimination of the species, or could have worked

on them with more zeal and sagacity. He first gives in detail all the

many points of structure which vary in the several species, and

estimates numerically the relative frequency of the variations. He

specifies above a dozen characters which may be found varying even on

the same branch, sometimes according to age or development, sometimes

without any assignable reason. Such characters are not of course of

specific value, but they are, as Asa Gray has remarked in commenting on

this memoir, such as generally enter into specific definitions. De

Candolle then goes on to say that he gives the rank of species to the

forms that differ by characters never varying on the same tree, and

never found connected by intermediate states. After this discussion,

the result of so much labour, he emphatically remarks: “They are

mistaken, who repeat that the greater part of our species are clearly

limited, and that the doubtful species are in a feeble minority. This

seemed to be true, so long as a genus was imperfectly known, and its

species were founded upon a few specimens, that is to say, were

provisional. Just as we come to know them better, intermediate forms

flow in, and doubts as to specific limits augment.” He also adds that

it is the best known species which present the greatest number of

spontaneous varieties and sub-varieties. Thus Quercus robur has

twenty-eight varieties, all of which, excepting six, are clustered

round three sub-species, namely Q. pedunculata, sessiliflora and

pubescens. The forms which connect these three sub-species are

comparatively rare; and, as Asa Gray again remarks, if these connecting

forms which are now rare were to become totally extinct the three

sub-species would hold exactly the same relation to each other as do

the four or five provisionally admitted species which closely surround

the typical Quercus robur. Finally, De Candolle admits that out of the

300 species, which will be enumerated in his Prodromus as belonging to

the oak family, at least two-thirds are provisional species, that is,

are not known strictly to fulfil the definition above given of a true

species. It should be added that De Candolle no longer believes that

species are immutable creations, but concludes that the derivative

theory is the most natural one, “and the most accordant with the known

facts in palæontology, geographical botany and zoology, of anatomical

structure and classification.”

When a young naturalist commences the study of a group of organisms

quite unknown to him he is at first much perplexed in determining what

differences to consider as specific and what as varietal; for he knows

nothing of the amount and kind of variation to which the group is

subject; and this shows, at least, how very generally there is some

variation. But if he confine his attention to one class within one

country he will soon make up his mind how to rank most of the doubtful

forms. His general tendency will be to make many species, for he will

become impressed, just like the pigeon or poultry fancier before

alluded to, with the amount of difference in the forms which he is

continually studying; and he has little general knowledge of analogical

variation in other groups and in other countries by which to correct

his first impressions. As he extends the range of his observations he

will meet with more cases of difficulty; for he will encounter a

greater number of closely-allied forms. But if his observations be

widely extended he will in the end generally be able to make up his own

mind; but he will succeed in this at the expense of admitting much

variation, and the truth of this admission will often be disputed by

other naturalists. When he comes to study allied forms brought from

countries not now continuous, in which case he cannot hope to find

intermediate links, he will be compelled to trust almost entirely to

analogy, and his difficulties will rise to a climax.

Certainly no clear line of demarcation has as yet been drawn between

species and sub-species—that is, the forms which in the opinion of some

naturalists come very near to, but do not quite arrive at, the rank of

species; or, again, between sub-species and well-marked varieties, or

between lesser varieties and individual differences. These differences

blend into each other by an insensible series; and a series impresses

the mind with the idea of an actual passage.

Hence I look at individual differences, though of small interest to the

systematist, as of the highest importance for us, as being the first

step towards such slight varieties as are barely thought worth

recording in works on natural history. And I look at varieties which

are in any degree more distinct and permanent, as steps towards more

strongly marked and permanent varieties; and at the latter, as leading

to sub-species, and then to species. The passage from one stage of

difference to another may, in many cases, be the simple result of the

nature of the organism and of the different physical conditions to

which it has long been exposed; but with respect to the more important

and adaptive characters, the passage from one stage of difference to

another may be safely attributed to the cumulative action of natural

selection, hereafter to be explained, and to the effects of the

increased use or disuse of parts. A well-marked variety may therefore

be called an incipient species; but whether this belief is justifiable

must be judged by the weight of the various facts and considerations to

be given throughout this work.

It need not be supposed that all varieties or incipient species attain

the rank of species. They may become extinct, or they may endure as

varieties for very long periods, as has been shown to be the case by

Mr. Wollaston with the varieties of certain fossil land-shells in

Madeira, and with plants by Gaston de Saporta. If a variety were to

flourish so as to exceed in numbers the parent species, it would then

rank as the species, and the species as the variety; or it might come

to supplant and exterminate the parent species; or both might co-exist,

and both rank as independent species. But we shall hereafter return to

this subject.

From these remarks it will be seen that I look at the term species as

one arbitrarily given, for the sake of convenience, to a set of

individuals closely resembling each other, and that it does not

essentially differ from the term variety, which is given to less

distinct and more fluctuating forms. The term variety, again, in

comparison with mere individual differences, is also applied

arbitrarily, for convenience sake.

_Wide-ranging, much-diffused, and common Species vary most._

Guided by theoretical considerations, I thought that some interesting

results might be obtained in regard to the nature and relations of the

species which vary most, by tabulating all the varieties in several

well-worked floras. At first this seemed a simple task; but Mr. H.C.

Watson, to whom I am much indebted for valuable advice and assistance

on this subject, soon convinced me that there were many difficulties,

as did subsequently Dr. Hooker, even in stronger terms. I shall reserve

for a future work the discussion of these difficulties, and the tables

of the proportional numbers of the varying species. Dr. Hooker permits

me to add that after having carefully read my manuscript, and examined

the tables, he thinks that the following statements are fairly well

established. The whole subject, however, treated as it necessarily here

is with much brevity, is rather perplexing, and allusions cannot be

avoided to the “struggle for existence,” “divergence of character,” and

other questions, hereafter to be discussed.

Alphonse de Candolle and others have shown that plants which have very

wide ranges generally present varieties; and this might have been

expected, as they are exposed to diverse physical conditions, and as

they come into competition (which, as we shall hereafter see, is a far

more important circumstance) with different sets of organic beings. But

my tables further show that, in any limited country, the species which

are the most common, that is abound most in individuals, and the

species which are most widely diffused within their own country (and

this is a different consideration from wide range, and to a certain

extent from commonness), oftenest give rise to varieties sufficiently

well-marked to have been recorded in botanical works. Hence it is the

most flourishing, or, as they may be called, the dominant species—those

which range widely, are the most diffused in their own country, and are

the most numerous in individuals—which oftenest produce well-marked

varieties, or, as I consider them, incipient species. And this,

perhaps, might have been anticipated; for, as varieties, in order to

become in any degree permanent, necessarily have to struggle with the

other inhabitants of the country, the species which are already

dominant will be the most likely to yield offspring, which, though in

some slight degree modified, still inherit those advantages that

enabled their parents to become dominant over their compatriots. In

these remarks on predominence, it should be understood that reference

is made only to the forms which come into competition with each other,

and more especially to the members of the same genus or class having

nearly similar habits of life. With respect to the number of

individuals or commonness of species, the comparison of course relates

only to the members of the same group. One of the higher plants may be

said to be dominant if it be more numerous in individuals and more

widely diffused than the other plants of the same country, which live

under nearly the same conditions. A plant of this kind is not the less

dominant because some conferva inhabiting the water or some parasitic

fungus is infinitely more numerous in individuals, and more widely

diffused. But if the conferva or parasitic fungus exceeds its allies in

the above respects, it will then be dominant within its own class.

_Species of the Larger Genera in each Country vary more Frequently than

the Species of the Smaller Genera._

If the plants inhabiting a country as described in any Flora, be

divided into two equal masses, all those in the larger genera (_i.e._,

those including many species) being placed on one side, and all those

in the smaller genera on the other side, the former will be found to

include a somewhat larger number of the very common and much diffused

or dominant species. This might have been anticipated, for the mere

fact of many species of the same genus inhabiting any country, shows

that there is something in the organic or inorganic conditions of that

country favourable to the genus; and, consequently, we might have

expected to have found in the larger genera, or those including many

species, a larger proportional number of dominant species. But so many

causes tend to obscure this result, that I am surprised that my tables

show even a small majority on the side of the larger genera. I will

here allude to only two causes of obscurity. Fresh water and

salt-loving plants generally have very wide ranges and are much

diffused, but this seems to be connected with the nature of the

stations inhabited by them, and has little or no relation to the size

of the genera to which the species belong. Again, plants low in the

scale of organisation are generally much more widely diffused than

plants higher in the scale; and here again there is no close relation

to the size of the genera. The cause of lowly-organised plants ranging

widely will be discussed in our chapter on Geographical Distribution.

From looking at species as only strongly marked and well-defined

varieties, I was led to anticipate that the species of the larger

genera in each country would oftener present varieties, than the

species of the smaller genera; for wherever many closely related

species (_i.e._, species of the same genus) have been formed, many

varieties or incipient species ought, as a general rule, to be now

forming. Where many large trees grow, we expect to find saplings. Where

many species of a genus have been formed through variation,

circumstances have been favourable for variation; and hence we might

expect that the circumstances would generally still be favourable to

variation. On the other hand, if we look at each species as a special

act of creation, there is no apparent reason why more varieties should

occur in a group having many species, than in one having few.

To test the truth of this anticipation I have arranged the plants of

twelve countries, and the coleopterous insects of two districts, into

two nearly equal masses, the species of the larger genera on one side,

and those of the smaller genera on the other side, and it has

invariably proved to be the case that a larger proportion of the

species on the side of the larger genera presented varieties, than on

the side of the smaller genera. Moreover, the species of the large

genera which present any varieties, invariably present a larger average

number of varieties than do the species of the small genera. Both these

results follow when another division is made, and when all the least

genera, with from only one to four species, are altogether excluded

from the tables. These facts are of plain signification on the view

that species are only strongly marked and permanent varieties; for

wherever many species of the same genus have been formed, or where, if

we may use the expression, the manufactory of species has been active,

we ought generally to find the manufactory still in action, more

especially as we have every reason to believe the process of

manufacturing new species to be a slow one. And this certainly holds

true if varieties be looked at as incipient species; for my tables

clearly show, as a general rule, that, wherever many species of a genus

have been formed, the species of that genus present a number of

varieties, that is, of incipient species, beyond the average. It is not

that all large genera are now varying much, and are thus increasing in

the number of their species, or that no small genera are now varying

and increasing; for if this had been so, it would have been fatal to my

theory; inasmuch as geology plainly tells us that small genera have in

the lapse of time often increased greatly in size; and that large

genera have often come to their maxima, declined, and disappeared. All

that we want to show is, that where many species of a genus have been

formed, on an average many are still forming; and this certainly holds

good.

_Many of the Species included within the Larger Genera resemble

Varieties in being very closely, but unequally, related to each other,

and in having restricted ranges._

There are other relations between the species of large genera and their

recorded varieties which deserve notice. We have seen that there is no

infallible criterion by which to distinguish species and well-marked

varieties; and when intermediate links have not been found between

doubtful forms, naturalists are compelled to come to a determination by

the amount of difference between them, judging by analogy whether or

not the amount suffices to raise one or both to the rank of species.

Hence the amount of difference is one very important criterion in

settling whether two forms should be ranked as species or varieties.

Now Fries has remarked in regard to plants, and Westwood in regard to

insects, that in large genera the amount of difference between the

species is often exceedingly small. I have endeavoured to test this

numerically by averages, and, as far as my imperfect results go, they

confirm the view. I have also consulted some sagacious and experienced

observers, and, after deliberation, they concur in this view. In this

respect, therefore, the species of the larger genera resemble

varieties, more than do the species of the smaller genera. Or the case

may be put in another way, and it may be said, that in the larger

genera, in which a number of varieties or incipient species greater

than the average are now manufacturing, many of the species already

manufactured still to a certain extent resemble varieties, for they

differ from each other by a less than the usual amount of difference.

Moreover, the species of the larger genera are related to each other,

in the same manner as the varieties of any one species are related to

each other. No naturalist pretends that all the species of a genus are

equally distinct from each other; they may generally be divided into

sub-genera, or sections, or lesser groups. As Fries has well remarked,

little groups of species are generally clustered like satellites around

other species. And what are varieties but groups of forms, unequally

related to each other, and clustered round certain forms—that is, round

their parent-species. Undoubtedly there is one most important point of

difference between varieties and species, namely, that the amount of

difference between varieties, when compared with each other or with

their parent-species, is much less than that between the species of the

same genus. But when we come to discuss the principle, as I call it, of

divergence of character, we shall see how this may be explained, and

how the lesser differences between varieties tend to increase into the

greater differences between species.

There is one other point which is worth notice. Varieties generally

have much restricted ranges. This statement is indeed scarcely more

than a truism, for if a variety were found to have a wider range than

that of its supposed parent-species, their denominations would be

reversed. But there is reason to believe that the species which are

very closely allied to other species, and in so far resemble varieties,

often have much restricted ranges. For instance, Mr. H.C. Watson has

marked for me in the well-sifted London catalogue of Plants (4th

edition) sixty-three plants which are therein ranked as species, but

which he considers as so closely allied to other species as to be of

doubtful value: these sixty-three reputed species range on an average

over 6.9 of the provinces into which Mr. Watson has divided Great

Britain. Now, in this same catalogue, fifty-three acknowledged

varieties are recorded, and these range over 7.7 provinces; whereas,

the species to which these varieties belong range over 14.3 provinces.

So that the acknowledged varieties have very nearly the same restricted

average range, as have the closely allied forms, marked for me by Mr.

Watson as doubtful species, but which are almost universally ranked by

British botanists as good and true species.

_Summary._

Finally, varieties cannot be distinguished from species—except, first,

by the discovery of intermediate linking forms; and, secondly, by a

certain indefinite amount of difference between them; for two forms, if

differing very little, are generally ranked as varieties,

notwithstanding that they cannot be closely connected; but the amount

of difference considered necessary to give to any two forms the rank of

species cannot be defined. In genera having more than the average

number of species in any country, the species of these genera have more

than the average number of varieties. In large genera the species are

apt to be closely but unequally allied together, forming little

clusters round other species. Species very closely allied to other

species apparently have restricted ranges. In all these respects the

species of large genera present a strong analogy with varieties. And we

can clearly understand these analogies, if species once existed as

varieties, and thus originated; whereas, these analogies are utterly

inexplicable if species are independent creations.

We have also seen that it is the most flourishing or dominant species

of the larger genera within each class which on an average yield the

greatest number of varieties, and varieties, as we shall hereafter see,

tend to become converted into new and distinct species. Thus the larger

genera tend to become larger; and throughout nature the forms of life

which are now dominant tend to become still more dominant by leaving

many modified and dominant descendants. But, by steps hereafter to be

explained, the larger genera also tend to break up into smaller genera.

And thus, the forms of life throughout the universe become divided into

groups subordinate to groups.

The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection Or, the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life, 6th Edition · 第 2 / 16 章