CHAPTER XII.

GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION.

Present distribution cannot be accounted for by differences in physical

conditions—Importance of barriers—Affinity of the productions of the

same continent—Centres of creation—Means of dispersal by changes of

climate and of the level of the land, and by occasional means—Dispersal

during the Glacial period—Alternate Glacial periods in the North and

South.

In considering the distribution of organic beings over the face of the

globe, the first great fact which strikes us is, that neither the

similarity nor the dissimilarity of the inhabitants of various regions

can be wholly accounted for by climatal and other physical conditions.

Of late, almost every author who has studied the subject has come to

this conclusion. The case of America alone would almost suffice to

prove its truth; for if we exclude the arctic and northern temperate

parts, all authors agree that one of the most fundamental divisions in

geographical distribution is that between the New and Old Worlds; yet

if we travel over the vast American continent, from the central parts

of the United States to its extreme southern point, we meet with the

most diversified conditions; humid districts, arid deserts, lofty

mountains, grassy plains, forests, marshes, lakes and great rivers,

under almost every temperature. There is hardly a climate or condition

in the Old World which cannot be paralleled in the New—at least so

closely as the same species generally require. No doubt small areas can

be pointed out in the Old World hotter than any in the New World; but

these are not inhabited by a fauna different from that of the

surrounding districts; for it is rare to find a group of organisms

confined to a small area, of which the conditions are peculiar in only

a slight degree. Notwithstanding this general parallelism in the

conditions of Old and New Worlds, how widely different are their living

productions!

In the southern hemisphere, if we compare large tracts of land in

Australia, South Africa, and western South America, between latitudes

25° and 35°, we shall find parts extremely similar in all their

conditions, yet it would not be possible to point out three faunas and

floras more utterly dissimilar. Or, again, we may compare the

productions of South America south of latitude 35° with those north of

25°, which consequently are separated by a space of ten degrees of

latitude, and are exposed to considerably different conditions; yet

they are incomparably more closely related to each other than they are

to the productions of Australia or Africa under nearly the same

climate. Analogous facts could be given with respect to the inhabitants

of the sea.

A second great fact which strikes us in our general review is, that

barriers of any kind, or obstacles to free migration, are related in a

close and important manner to the differences between the productions

of various regions. We see this in the great difference in nearly all

the terrestrial productions of the New and Old Worlds, excepting in the

northern parts, where the land almost joins, and where, under a

slightly different climate, there might have been free migration for

the northern temperate forms, as there now is for the strictly arctic

productions. We see the same fact in the great difference between the

inhabitants of Australia, Africa, and South America under the same

latitude; for these countries are almost as much isolated from each

other as is possible. On each continent, also, we see the same fact;

for on the opposite sides of lofty and continuous mountain-ranges, and

of great deserts and even of large rivers, we find different

productions; though as mountain chains, deserts, &c., are not as

impassable, or likely to have endured so long, as the oceans separating

continents, the differences are very inferior in degree to those

characteristic of distinct continents.

Turning to the sea, we find the same law. The marine inhabitants of the

eastern and western shores of South America are very distinct, with

extremely few shells, crustacea, or echinodermata in common; but Dr.

Günther has recently shown that about thirty per cent of the fishes are

the same on the opposite sides of the isthmus of Panama; and this fact

has led naturalists to believe that the isthmus was formerly open.

Westward of the shores of America, a wide space of open ocean extends,

with not an island as a halting-place for emigrants; here we have a

barrier of another kind, and as soon as this is passed we meet in the

eastern islands of the Pacific with another and totally distinct fauna.

So that three marine faunas range northward and southward in parallel

lines not far from each other, under corresponding climate; but from

being separated from each other by impassable barriers, either of land

or open sea, they are almost wholly distinct. On the other hand,

proceeding still farther westward from the eastern islands of the

tropical parts of the Pacific, we encounter no impassable barriers, and

we have innumerable islands as halting-places, or continuous coasts,

until, after travelling over a hemisphere, we come to the shores of

Africa; and over this vast space we meet with no well-defined and

distinct marine faunas. Although so few marine animals are common to

the above-named three approximate faunas of Eastern and Western America

and the eastern Pacific islands, yet many fishes range from the Pacific

into the Indian Ocean, and many shells are common to the eastern

islands of the Pacific and the eastern shores of Africa on almost

exactly opposite meridians of longitude.

A third great fact, partly included in the foregoing statement, is the

affinity of the productions of the same continent or of the same sea,

though the species themselves are distinct at different points and

stations. It is a law of the widest generality, and every continent

offers innumerable instances. Nevertheless, the naturalist, in

travelling, for instance, from north to south, never fails to be struck

by the manner in which successive groups of beings, specifically

distinct, though nearly related, replace each other. He hears from

closely allied, yet distinct kinds of birds, notes nearly similar, and

sees their nests similarly constructed, but not quite alike, with eggs

coloured in nearly the same manner. The plains near the Straits of

Magellan are inhabited by one species of Rhea (American ostrich), and

northward the plains of La Plata by another species of the same genus;

and not by a true ostrich or emu, like those inhabiting Africa and

Australia under the same latitude. On these same plains of La Plata we

see the agouti and bizcacha, animals having nearly the same habits as

our hares and rabbits, and belonging to the same order of Rodents, but

they plainly display an American type of structure. We ascend the lofty

peaks of the Cordillera, and we find an alpine species of bizcacha; we

look to the waters, and we do not find the beaver or muskrat, but the

coypu and capybara, rodents of the South American type. Innumerable

other instances could be given. If we look to the islands off the

American shore, however much they may differ in geological structure,

the inhabitants are essentially American, though they may be all

peculiar species. We may look back to past ages, as shown in the last

chapter, and we find American types then prevailing on the American

continent and in the American seas. We see in these facts some deep

organic bond, throughout space and time, over the same areas of land

and water, independently of physical conditions. The naturalist must be

dull who is not led to inquire what this bond is.

The bond is simply inheritance, that cause which alone, as far as we

positively know, produces organisms quite like each other, or, as we

see in the case of varieties, nearly alike. The dissimilarity of the

inhabitants of different regions may be attributed to modification

through variation and natural selection, and probably in a subordinate

degree to the definite influence of different physical conditions. The

degrees of dissimilarity will depend on the migration of the more

dominant forms of life from one region into another having been more or

less effectually prevented, at periods more or less remote—on the

nature and number of the former immigrants—and on the action of the

inhabitants on each other in leading to the preservation of different

modifications; the relation of organism to organism in the struggle for

life being, as I have already often remarked, the most important of all

relations. Thus the high importance of barriers comes into play by

checking migration; as does time for the slow process of modification

through natural selection. Widely-ranging species, abounding in

individuals, which have already triumphed over many competitors in

their own widely-extended homes, will have the best chance of seizing

on new places, when they spread out into new countries. In their new

homes they will be exposed to new conditions, and will frequently

undergo further modification and improvement; and thus they will become

still further victorious, and will produce groups of modified

descendants. On this principle of inheritance with modification we can

understand how it is that sections of genera, whole genera, and even

families, are confined to the same areas, as is so commonly and

notoriously the case.

There is no evidence, as was remarked in the last chapter, of the

existence of any law of necessary development. As the variability of

each species is an independent property, and will be taken advantage of

by natural selection, only so far as it profits each individual in its

complex struggle for life, so the amount of modification in different

species will be no uniform quantity. If a number of species, after

having long competed with each other in their old home, were to migrate

in a body into a new and afterwards isolated country, they would be

little liable to modification; for neither migration nor isolation in

themselves effect anything. These principles come into play only by

bringing organisms into new relations with each other and in a lesser

degree with the surrounding physical conditions. As we have seen in the

last chapter that some forms have retained nearly the same character

from an enormously remote geological period, so certain species have

migrated over vast spaces, and have not become greatly or at all

modified.

According to these views, it is obvious that the several species of the

same genus, though inhabiting the most distant quarters of the world,

must originally have proceeded from the same source, as they are

descended from the same progenitor. In the case of those species which

have undergone, during whole geological periods, little modification,

there is not much difficulty in believing that they have migrated from

the same region; for during the vast geographical and climatical

changes which have supervened since ancient times, almost any amount of

migration is possible. But in many other cases, in which we have reason

to believe that the species of a genus have been produced within

comparatively recent times, there is great difficulty on this head. It

is also obvious that the individuals of the same species, though now

inhabiting distant and isolated regions, must have proceeded from one

spot, where their parents were first produced: for, as has been

explained, it is incredible that individuals identically the same

should have been produced from parents specifically distinct.

_Single Centres of supposed Creation._—We are thus brought to the

question which has been largely discussed by naturalists, namely,

whether species have been created at one or more points of the earth’s

surface. Undoubtedly there are many cases of extreme difficulty in

understanding how the same species could possibly have migrated from

some one point to the several distant and isolated points, where now

found. Nevertheless the simplicity of the view that each species was

first produced within a single region captivates the mind. He who

rejects it, rejects the vera causa of ordinary generation with

subsequent migration, and calls in the agency of a miracle. It is

universally admitted, that in most cases the area inhabited by a

species is continuous; and that when a plant or animal inhabits two

points so distant from each other, or with an interval of such a

nature, that the space could not have been easily passed over by

migration, the fact is given as something remarkable and exceptional.

The incapacity of migrating across a wide sea is more clear in the case

of terrestrial mammals than perhaps with any other organic beings; and,

accordingly, we find no inexplicable instances of the same mammals

inhabiting distant points of the world. No geologist feels any

difficulty in Great Britain possessing the same quadrupeds with the

rest of Europe, for they were no doubt once united. But if the same

species can be produced at two separate points, why do we not find a

single mammal common to Europe and Australia or South America? The

conditions of life are nearly the same, so that a multitude of European

animals and plants have become naturalised in America and Australia;

and some of the aboriginal plants are identically the same at these

distant points of the northern and southern hemispheres? The answer, as

I believe, is, that mammals have not been able to migrate, whereas some

plants, from their varied means of dispersal, have migrated across the

wide and broken interspaces. The great and striking influence of

barriers of all kinds, is intelligible only on the view that the great

majority of species have been produced on one side, and have not been

able to migrate to the opposite side. Some few families, many

subfamilies, very many genera, a still greater number of sections of

genera, are confined to a single region; and it has been observed by

several naturalists that the most natural genera, or those genera in

which the species are most closely related to each other, are generally

confined to the same country, or if they have a wide range that their

range is continuous. What a strange anomaly it would be if a directly

opposite rule were to prevail when we go down one step lower in the

series, namely to the individuals of the same species, and these had

not been, at least at first, confined to some one region!

Hence, it seems to me, as it has to many other naturalists, that the

view of each species having been produced in one area alone, and having

subsequently migrated from that area as far as its powers of migration

and subsistence under past and present conditions permitted, is the

most probable. Undoubtedly many cases occur in which we cannot explain

how the same species could have passed from one point to the other. But

the geographical and climatical changes which have certainly occurred

within recent geological times, must have rendered discontinuous the

formerly continuous range of many species. So that we are reduced to

consider whether the exceptions to continuity of range are so numerous,

and of so grave a nature, that we ought to give up the belief, rendered

probable by general considerations, that each species has been produced

within one area, and has migrated thence as far as it could. It would

be hopelessly tedious to discuss all the exceptional cases of the same

species, now living at distant and separated points; nor do I for a

moment pretend that any explanation could be offered of many instances.

But, after some preliminary remarks, I will discuss a few of the most

striking classes of facts, namely, the existence of the same species on

the summits of distant mountain ranges, and at distant points in the

Arctic and Antarctic regions; and secondly (in the following chapter),

the wide distribution of fresh water productions; and thirdly, the

occurrence of the same terrestrial species on islands and on the

nearest mainland, though separated by hundreds of miles of open sea. If

the existence of the same species at distant and isolated points of the

earth’s surface can in many instances be explained on the view of each

species having migrated from a single birthplace; then, considering our

ignorance with respect to former climatical and geographical changes,

and to the various occasional means of transport, the belief that a

single birthplace is the law seems to me incomparably the safest.

In discussing this subject we shall be enabled at the same time to

consider a point equally important for us, namely, whether the several

species of a genus which must on our theory all be descended from a

common progenitor, can have migrated, undergoing modification during

their migration from some one area. If, when most of the species

inhabiting one region are different from those of another region,

though closely allied to them, it can be shown that migration from the

one region to the other has probably occurred at some former period,

our general view will be much strengthened; for the explanation is

obvious on the principle of descent with modification. A volcanic

island, for instance, upheaved and formed at the distance of a few

hundreds of miles from a continent, would probably receive from it in

the course of time a few colonists, and their descendants, though

modified, would still be related by inheritance to the inhabitants of

that continent. Cases of this nature are common, and are, as we shall

hereafter see, inexplicable on the theory of independent creation. This

view of the relation of the species of one region to those of another,

does not differ much from that advanced by Mr. Wallace, who concludes

that “every species has come into existence coincident both in space

and time with a pre-existing closely allied species.” And it is now

well known that he attributes this coincidence to descent with

modification.

The question of single or multiple centres of creation differs from

another though allied question, namely, whether all the individuals of

the same species are descended from a single pair, or single

hermaphrodite, or whether, as some authors suppose, from many

individuals simultaneously created. With organic beings which never

intercross, if such exist, each species, must be descended from a

succession of modified varieties, that have supplanted each other, but

have never blended with other individuals or varieties of the same

species, so that, at each successive stage of modification, all the

individuals of the same form will be descended from a single parent.

But in the great majority of cases, namely, with all organisms which

habitually unite for each birth, or which occasionally intercross, the

individuals of the same species inhabiting the same area will be kept

nearly uniform by intercrossing; so that many individuals will go on

simultaneously changing, and the whole amount of modification at each

stage will not be due to descent from a single parent. To illustrate

what I mean: our English race-horses differ from the horses of every

other breed; but they do not owe their difference and superiority to

descent from any single pair, but to continued care in the selecting

and training of many individuals during each generation.

Before discussing the three classes of facts, which I have selected as

presenting the greatest amount of difficulty on the theory of “single

centres of creation,” I must say a few words on the means of dispersal.

_Means of Dispersal._

Sir C. Lyell and other authors have ably treated this subject. I can

give here only the briefest abstract of the more important facts.

Change of climate must have had a powerful influence on migration. A

region now impassable to certain organisms from the nature of its

climate, might have been a high road for migration, when the climate

was different. I shall, however, presently have to discuss this branch

of the subject in some detail. Changes of level in the land must also

have been highly influential: a narrow isthmus now separates two marine

faunas; submerge it, or let it formerly have been submerged, and the

two faunas will now blend together, or may formerly have blended. Where

the sea now extends, land may at a former period have connected islands

or possibly even continents together, and thus have allowed terrestrial

productions to pass from one to the other. No geologist disputes that

great mutations of level have occurred within the period of existing

organisms. Edward Forbes insisted that all the islands in the Atlantic

must have been recently connected with Europe or Africa, and Europe

likewise with America. Other authors have thus hypothetically bridged

over every ocean, and united almost every island with some mainland.

If, indeed, the arguments used by Forbes are to be trusted, it must be

admitted that scarcely a single island exists which has not recently

been united to some continent. This view cuts the Gordian knot of the

dispersal of the same species to the most distant points, and removes

many a difficulty; but to the best of my judgment we are not authorized

in admitting such enormous geographical changes within the period of

existing species. It seems to me that we have abundant evidence of

great oscillations in the level of the land or sea; but not of such

vast changes in the position and extension of our continents, as to

have united them within the recent period to each other and to the

several intervening oceanic islands. I freely admit the former

existence of many islands, now buried beneath the sea, which may have

served as halting-places for plants and for many animals during their

migration. In the coral-producing oceans such sunken islands are now

marked by rings of coral or atolls standing over them. Whenever it is

fully admitted, as it will some day be, that each species has proceeded

from a single birthplace, and when in the course of time we know

something definite about the means of distribution, we shall be enabled

to speculate with security on the former extension of the land. But I

do not believe that it will ever be proved that within the recent

period most of our continents which now stand quite separate, have been

continuously, or almost continuously united with each other, and with

the many existing oceanic islands. Several facts in distribution—such

as the great difference in the marine faunas on the opposite sides of

almost every continent—the close relation of the tertiary inhabitants

of several lands and even seas to their present inhabitants—the degree

of affinity between the mammals inhabiting islands with those of the

nearest continent, being in part determined (as we shall hereafter see)

by the depth of the intervening ocean—these and other such facts are

opposed to the admission of such prodigious geographical revolutions

within the recent period, as are necessary on the view advanced by

Forbes and admitted by his followers. The nature and relative

proportions of the inhabitants of oceanic islands are likewise opposed

to the belief of their former continuity of continents. Nor does the

almost universally volcanic composition of such islands favour the

admission that they are the wrecks of sunken continents; if they had

originally existed as continental mountain ranges, some at least of the

islands would have been formed, like other mountain summits, of

granite, metamorphic schists, old fossiliferous and other rocks,

instead of consisting of mere piles of volcanic matter.

I must now say a few words on what are called accidental means, but

which more properly should be called occasional means of distribution.

I shall here confine myself to plants. In botanical works, this or that

plant is often stated to be ill adapted for wide dissemination; but the

greater or less facilities for transport across the sea may be said to

be almost wholly unknown. Until I tried, with Mr. Berkeley’s aid, a few

experiments, it was not even known how far seeds could resist the

injurious action of sea-water. To my surprise I found that out of

eighty-seven kinds, sixty-four germinated after an immersion of

twenty-eight days, and a few survived an immersion of 137 days. It

deserves notice that certain orders were far more injured than others:

nine Leguminosæ were tried, and, with one exception, they resisted the

salt-water badly; seven species of the allied orders, Hydrophyllaceæ

and Polemoniaceæ, were all killed by a month’s immersion. For

convenience’ sake I chiefly tried small seeds without the capsules or

fruit; and as all of these sank in a few days, they could not have been

floated across wide spaces of the sea, whether or not they were injured

by salt water. Afterwards I tried some larger fruits, capsules, &c.,

and some of these floated for a long time. It is well known what a

difference there is in the buoyancy of green and seasoned timber; and

it occurred to me that floods would often wash into the sea dried

plants or branches with seed-capsules or fruit attached to them. Hence

I was led to dry the stems and branches of ninety-four plants with ripe

fruit, and to place them on sea-water. The majority sank quickly, but

some which, whilst green, floated for a very short time, when dried

floated much longer; for instance, ripe hazel-nuts sank immediately,

but when dried they floated for ninety days, and afterwards when

planted germinated; an asparagus plant with ripe berries floated for

twenty-three days, when dried it floated for eighty-five days, and the

seeds afterwards germinated: the ripe seeds of Helosciadium sank in two

days, when dried they floated for above ninety days, and afterwards

germinated. Altogether, out of the ninety-four dried plants, eighteen

floated for above twenty-eight days; and some of the eighteen floated

for a very much longer period. So that as 64/87 kinds of seeds

germinated after an immersion of twenty-eight days; and as 18/94

distinct species with ripe fruit (but not all the same species as in

the foregoing experiment) floated, after being dried, for above

twenty-eight days, we may conclude, as far as anything can be inferred

from these scanty facts, that the seeds of 14/100 kinds of plants of

any country might be floated by sea-currents during twenty-eight days,

and would retain their power of germination. In Johnston’s Physical

Atlas, the average rate of the several Atlantic currents is

thirty-three miles per diem (some currents running at the rate of sixty

miles per diem); on this average, the seeds of 14/100 plants belonging

to one country might be floated across 924 miles of sea to another

country; and when stranded, if blown by an inland gale to a favourable

spot, would germinate.

Subsequently to my experiments, M. Martens tried similar ones, but in a

much better manner, for he placed the seeds in a box in the actual sea,

so that they were alternately wet and exposed to the air like really

floating plants. He tried ninety-eight seeds, mostly different from

mine, but he chose many large fruits, and likewise seeds, from plants

which live near the sea; and this would have favoured both the average

length of their flotation and their resistance to the injurious action

of the salt-water. On the other hand, he did not previously dry the

plants or branches with the fruit; and this, as we have seen, would

have caused some of them to have floated much longer. The result was

that 18/98 of his seeds of different kinds floated for forty-two days,

and were then capable of germination. But I do not doubt that plants

exposed to the waves would float for a less time than those protected

from violent movement as in our experiments. Therefore, it would

perhaps be safer to assume that the seeds of about 10/100 plants of a

flora, after having been dried, could be floated across a space of sea

900 miles in width, and would then germinate. The fact of the larger

fruits often floating longer than the small, is interesting; as plants

with large seeds or fruit which, as Alph. de Candolle has shown,

generally have restricted ranges, could hardly be transported by any

other means.

Seeds may be occasionally transported in another manner. Drift timber

is thrown up on most islands, even on those in the midst of the widest

oceans; and the natives of the coral islands in the Pacific procure

stones for their tools, solely from the roots of drifted trees, these

stones being a valuable royal tax. I find that when irregularly shaped

stones are embedded in the roots of trees, small parcels of earth are

very frequently enclosed in their interstices and behind them, so

perfectly that not a particle could be washed away during the longest

transport: out of one small portion of earth thus _completely_ enclosed

by the roots of an oak about fifty years old, three dicotyledonous

plants germinated: I am certain of the accuracy of this observation.

Again, I can show that the carcasses of birds, when floating on the

sea, sometimes escape being immediately devoured; and many kinds of

seeds in the crops of floating birds long retain their vitality: peas

and vetches, for instance, are killed by even a few days’ immersion in

sea-water; but some taken out of the crop of a pigeon, which had

floated on artificial sea-water for thirty days, to my surprise nearly

all germinated.

Living birds can hardly fail to be highly effective agents in the

transportation of seeds. I could give many facts showing how frequently

birds of many kinds are blown by gales to vast distances across the

ocean. We may safely assume that under such circumstances their rate of

flight would often be thirty-five miles an hour; and some authors have

given a far higher estimate. I have never seen an instance of

nutritious seeds passing through the intestines of a bird; but hard

seeds of fruit pass uninjured through even the digestive organs of a

turkey. In the course of two months, I picked up in my garden twelve

kinds of seeds, out of the excrement of small birds, and these seemed

perfect, and some of them, which were tried, germinated. But the

following fact is more important: the crops of birds do not secrete

gastric juice, and do not, as I know by trial, injure in the least the

germination of seeds; now, after a bird has found and devoured a large

supply of food, it is positively asserted that all the grains do not

pass into the gizzard for twelve or even eighteen hours. A bird in this

interval might easily be blown to the distance of five hundred miles,

and hawks are known to look out for tired birds, and the contents of

their torn crops might thus readily get scattered. Some hawks and owls

bolt their prey whole, and after an interval of from twelve to twenty

hours, disgorge pellets, which, as I know from experiments made in the

Zoological Gardens, include seeds capable of germination. Some seeds of

the oat, wheat, millet, canary, hemp, clover, and beet germinated after

having been from twelve to twenty-one hours in the stomachs of

different birds of prey; and two seeds of beet grew after having been

thus retained for two days and fourteen hours. Fresh-water fish, I

find, eat seeds of many land and water plants; fish are frequently

devoured by birds, and thus the seeds might be transported from place

to place. I forced many kinds of seeds into the stomachs of dead fish,

and then gave their bodies to fishing-eagles, storks, and pelicans;

these birds, after an interval of many hours, either rejected the seeds

in pellets or passed them in their excrement; and several of these

seeds retained the power of germination. Certain seeds, however, were

always killed by this process.

Locusts are sometimes blown to great distances from the land. I myself

caught one 370 miles from the coast of Africa, and have heard of others

caught at greater distances. The Rev. R.T. Lowe informed Sir C. Lyell

that in November, 1844, swarms of locusts visited the island of

Madeira. They were in countless numbers, as thick as the flakes of snow

in the heaviest snowstorm, and extended upward as far as could be seen

with a telescope. During two or three days they slowly careered round

and round in an immense ellipse, at least five or six miles in

diameter, and at night alighted on the taller trees, which were

completely coated with them. They then disappeared over the sea, as

suddenly as they had appeared, and have not since visited the island.

Now, in parts of Natal it is believed by some farmers, though on

insufficient evidence, that injurious seeds are introduced into their

grass-land in the dung left by the great flights of locusts which often

visit that country. In consequence of this belief Mr. Weale sent me in

a letter a small packet of the dried pellets, out of which I extracted

under the microscope several seeds, and raised from them seven grass

plants, belonging to two species, of two genera. Hence a swarm of

locusts, such as that which visited Madeira, might readily be the means

of introducing several kinds of plants into an island lying far from

the mainland.

Although the beaks and feet of birds are generally clean, earth

sometimes adheres to them: in one case I removed sixty-one grains, and

in another case twenty-two grains of dry argillaceous earth from the

foot of a partridge, and in the earth there was a pebble as large as

the seed of a vetch. Here is a better case: the leg of a woodcock was

sent to me by a friend, with a little cake of dry earth attached to the

shank, weighing only nine grains; and this contained a seed of the

toad-rush (Juncus bufonius) which germinated and flowered. Mr.

Swaysland, of Brighton, who during the last forty years has paid close

attention to our migratory birds, informs me that he has often shot

wagtails (Motacillæ), wheatears, and whinchats (Saxicolæ), on their

first arrival on our shores, before they had alighted; and he has

several times noticed little cakes of earth attached to their feet.

Many facts could be given showing how generally soil is charged with

seeds. For instance, Professor Newton sent me the leg of a red-legged

partridge (Caccabis rufa) which had been wounded and could not fly,

with a ball of hard earth adhering to it, and weighing six and a half

ounces. The earth had been kept for three years, but when broken,

watered and placed under a bell glass, no less than eighty-two plants

sprung from it: these consisted of twelve monocotyledons, including the

common oat, and at least one kind of grass, and of seventy

dicotyledons, which consisted, judging from the young leaves, of at

least three distinct species. With such facts before us, can we doubt

that the many birds which are annually blown by gales across great

spaces of ocean, and which annually migrate—for instance, the millions

of quails across the Mediterranean—must occasionally transport a few

seeds embedded in dirt adhering to their feet or beaks? But I shall

have to recur to this subject.

As icebergs are known to be sometimes loaded with earth and stones, and

have even carried brushwood, bones, and the nest of a land-bird, it can

hardly be doubted that they must occasionally, as suggested by Lyell,

have transported seeds from one part to another of the arctic and

antarctic regions; and during the Glacial period from one part of the

now temperate regions to another. In the Azores, from the large number

of plants common to Europe, in comparison with the species on the other

islands of the Atlantic, which stand nearer to the mainland, and (as

remarked by Mr. H.C. Watson) from their somewhat northern character, in

comparison with the latitude, I suspected that these islands had been

partly stocked by ice-borne seeds during the Glacial epoch. At my

request Sir C. Lyell wrote to M. Hartung to inquire whether he had

observed erratic boulders on these islands, and he answered that he had

found large fragments of granite and other rocks, which do not occur in

the archipelago. Hence we may safely infer that icebergs formerly

landed their rocky burdens on the shores of these mid-ocean islands,

and it is at least possible that they may have brought thither the

seeds of northern plants.

Considering that these several means of transport, and that other

means, which without doubt remain to be discovered, have been in action

year after year for tens of thousands of years, it would, I think, be a

marvellous fact if many plants had not thus become widely transported.

These means of transport are sometimes called accidental, but this is

not strictly correct: the currents of the sea are not accidental, nor

is the direction of prevalent gales of wind. It should be observed that

scarcely any means of transport would carry seeds for very great

distances; for seeds do not retain their vitality when exposed for a

great length of time to the action of sea water; nor could they be long

carried in the crops or intestines of birds. These means, however,

would suffice for occasional transport across tracts of sea some

hundred miles in breadth, or from island to island, or from a continent

to a neighbouring island, but not from one distant continent to

another. The floras of distant continents would not by such means

become mingled; but would remain as distinct as they now are. The

currents, from their course, would never bring seeds from North America

to Britain, though they might and do bring seeds from the West Indies

to our western shores, where, if not killed by their very long

immersion in salt water, they could not endure our climate. Almost

every year, one or two land-birds are blown across the whole Atlantic

Ocean, from North America to the western shores of Ireland and England;

but seeds could be transported by these rare wanderers only by one

means, namely, by dirt adhering to their feet or beaks, which is in

itself a rare accident. Even in this case, how small would be the

chance of a seed falling on favourable soil, and coming to maturity!

But it would be a great error to argue that because a well-stocked

island, like Great Britain, has not, as far as is known (and it would

be very difficult to prove this), received within the last few

centuries, through occasional means of transport, immigrants from

Europe or any other continent, that a poorly-stocked island, though

standing more remote from the mainland, would not receive colonists by

similar means. Out of a hundred kinds of seeds or animals transported

to an island, even if far less well-stocked than Britain, perhaps not

more than one would be so well fitted to its new home, as to become

naturalised. But this is no valid argument against what would be

effected by occasional means of transport, during the long lapse of

geological time, whilst the island was being upheaved, and before it

had become fully stocked with inhabitants. On almost bare land, with

few or no destructive insects or birds living there, nearly every seed

which chanced to arrive, if fitted for the climate, would germinate and

survive.

_Dispersal during the Glacial Period._

The identity of many plants and animals, on mountain-summits, separated

from each other by hundreds of miles of lowlands, where Alpine species

could not possibly exist, is one of the most striking cases known of

the same species living at distant points, without the apparent

possibility of their having migrated from one point to the other. It is

indeed a remarkable fact to see so many plants of the same species

living on the snowy regions of the Alps or Pyrenees, and in the extreme

northern parts of Europe; but it is far more remarkable, that the

plants on the White Mountains, in the United States of America, are all

the same with those of Labrador, and nearly all the same, as we hear

from Asa Gray, with those on the loftiest mountains of Europe. Even as

long ago as 1747, such facts led Gmelin to conclude that the same

species must have been independently created at many distinct points;

and we might have remained in this same belief, had not Agassiz and

others called vivid attention to the Glacial period, which, as we shall

immediately see, affords a simple explanation of these facts. We have

evidence of almost every conceivable kind, organic and inorganic, that,

within a very recent geological period, central Europe and North

America suffered under an Arctic climate. The ruins of a house burnt by

fire do not tell their tale more plainly than do the mountains of

Scotland and Wales, with their scored flanks, polished surfaces, and

perched boulders, of the icy streams with which their valleys were

lately filled. So greatly has the climate of Europe changed, that in

Northern Italy, gigantic moraines, left by old glaciers, are now

clothed by the vine and maize. Throughout a large part of the United

States, erratic boulders and scored rocks plainly reveal a former cold

period.

The former influence of the glacial climate on the distribution of the

inhabitants of Europe, as explained by Edward Forbes, is substantially

as follows. But we shall follow the changes more readily, by supposing

a new glacial period slowly to come on, and then pass away, as formerly

occurred. As the cold came on, and as each more southern zone became

fitted for the inhabitants of the north, these would take the places of

the former inhabitants of the temperate regions. The latter, at the

same time would travel further and further southward, unless they were

stopped by barriers, in which case they would perish. The mountains

would become covered with snow and ice, and their former Alpine

inhabitants would descend to the plains. By the time that the cold had

reached its maximum, we should have an arctic fauna and flora, covering

the central parts of Europe, as far south as the Alps and Pyrenees, and

even stretching into Spain. The now temperate regions of the United

States would likewise be covered by arctic plants and animals and these

would be nearly the same with those of Europe; for the present

circumpolar inhabitants, which we suppose to have everywhere travelled

southward, are remarkably uniform round the world.

As the warmth returned, the arctic forms would retreat northward,

closely followed up in their retreat by the productions of the more

temperate regions. And as the snow melted from the bases of the

mountains, the arctic forms would seize on the cleared and thawed

ground, always ascending, as the warmth increased and the snow still

further disappeared, higher and higher, whilst their brethren were

pursuing their northern journey. Hence, when the warmth had fully

returned, the same species, which had lately lived together on the

European and North American lowlands, would again be found in the

arctic regions of the Old and New Worlds, and on many isolated

mountain-summits far distant from each other.

Thus we can understand the identity of many plants at points so

immensely remote as the mountains of the United States and those of

Europe. We can thus also understand the fact that the Alpine plants of

each mountain-range are more especially related to the arctic forms

living due north or nearly due north of them: for the first migration

when the cold came on, and the re-migration on the returning warmth,

would generally have been due south and north. The Alpine plants, for

example, of Scotland, as remarked by Mr. H.C. Watson, and those of the

Pyrenees, as remarked by Ramond, are more especially allied to the

plants of northern Scandinavia; those of the United States to Labrador;

those of the mountains of Siberia to the arctic regions of that

country. These views, grounded as they are on the perfectly

well-ascertained occurrence of a former Glacial period, seem to me to

explain in so satisfactory a manner the present distribution of the

Alpine and Arctic productions of Europe and America, that when in other

regions we find the same species on distant mountain-summits, we may

almost conclude, without other evidence, that a colder climate formerly

permitted their migration across the intervening lowlands, now become

too warm for their existence.

As the arctic forms moved first southward and afterwards backward to

the north, in unison with the changing climate, they will not have been

exposed during their long migrations to any great diversity of

temperature; and as they all migrated in a body together, their mutual

relations will not have been much disturbed. Hence, in accordance with

the principles inculcated in this volume, these forms will not have

been liable to much modification. But with the Alpine productions, left

isolated from the moment of the returning warmth, first at the bases

and ultimately on the summits of the mountains, the case will have been

somewhat different; for it is not likely that all the same arctic

species will have been left on mountain ranges far distant from each

other, and have survived there ever since; they will also, in all

probability, have become mingled with ancient Alpine species, which

must have existed on the mountains before the commencement of the

Glacial epoch, and which during the coldest period will have been

temporarily driven down to the plains; they will, also, have been

subsequently exposed to somewhat different climatical influences. Their

mutual relations will thus have been in some degree disturbed;

consequently they will have been liable to modification; and they have

been modified; for if we compare the present Alpine plants and animals

of the several great European mountain ranges, one with another, though

many of the species remain identically the same, some exist as

varieties, some as doubtful forms or sub-species and some as distinct

yet closely allied species representing each other on the several

ranges.

In the foregoing illustration, I have assumed that at the commencement

of our imaginary Glacial period, the arctic productions were as uniform

round the polar regions as they are at the present day. But it is also

necessary to assume that many sub-arctic and some few temperate forms

were the same round the world, for some of the species which now exist

on the lower mountain slopes and on the plains of North America and

Europe are the same; and it may be asked how I account for this degree

of uniformity of the sub-arctic and temperate forms round the world, at

the commencement of the real Glacial period. At the present day, the

sub-arctic and northern temperate productions of the Old and New Worlds

are separated from each other by the whole Atlantic Ocean and by the

northern part of the Pacific. During the Glacial period, when the

inhabitants of the Old and New Worlds lived further southwards than

they do at present, they must have been still more completely separated

from each other by wider spaces of ocean; so that it may well be asked

how the same species could then or previously have entered the two

continents. The explanation, I believe, lies in the nature of the

climate before the commencement of the Glacial period. At this, the

newer Pliocene period, the majority of the inhabitants of the world

were specifically the same as now, and we have good reason to believe

that the climate was warmer than at the present day. Hence, we may

suppose that the organisms which now live under latitude 60°, lived

during the Pliocene period further north, under the Polar Circle, in

latitude 66°–67°; and that the present arctic productions then lived on

the broken land still nearer to the pole. Now, if we look at a

terrestrial globe, we see under the Polar Circle that there is almost

continuous land from western Europe through Siberia, to eastern

America. And this continuity of the circumpolar land, with the

consequent freedom under a more favourable climate for intermigration,

will account for the supposed uniformity of the sub-arctic and

temperate productions of the Old and New Worlds, at a period anterior

to the Glacial epoch.

Believing, from reasons before alluded to, that our continents have

long remained in nearly the same relative position, though subjected to

great oscillations of level, I am strongly inclined to extend the above

view, and to infer that during some earlier and still warmer period,

such as the older Pliocene period, a large number of the same plants

and animals inhabited the almost continuous circumpolar land; and that

these plants and animals, both in the Old and New Worlds, began slowly

to migrate southwards as the climate became less warm, long before the

commencement of the Glacial period. We now see, as I believe, their

descendants, mostly in a modified condition, in the central parts of

Europe and the United States. On this view we can understand the

relationship with very little identity, between the productions of

North America and Europe—a relationship which is highly remarkable,

considering the distance of the two areas, and their separation by the

whole Atlantic Ocean. We can further understand the singular fact

remarked on by several observers that the productions of Europe and

America during the later tertiary stages were more closely related to

each other than they are at the present time; for during these warmer

periods the northern parts of the Old and New Worlds will have been

almost continuously united by land, serving as a bridge, since rendered

impassable by cold, for the intermigration of their inhabitants.

During the slowly decreasing warmth of the Pliocene period, as soon as

the species in common, which inhabited the New and Old Worlds, migrated

south of the Polar Circle, they will have been completely cut off from

each other. This separation, as far as the more temperate productions

are concerned, must have taken place long ages ago. As the plants and

animals migrated southward, they will have become mingled in the one

great region with the native American productions, and would have had

to compete with them; and in the other great region, with those of the

Old World. Consequently we have here everything favourable for much

modification—for far more modification than with the Alpine

productions, left isolated, within a much more recent period, on the

several mountain ranges and on the arctic lands of Europe and North

America. Hence, it has come, that when we compare the now living

productions of the temperate regions of the New and Old Worlds, we find

very few identical species (though Asa Gray has lately shown that more

plants are identical than was formerly supposed), but we find in every

great class many forms, which some naturalists rank as geographical

races, and others as distinct species; and a host of closely allied or

representative forms which are ranked by all naturalists as

specifically distinct.

As on the land, so in the waters of the sea, a slow southern migration

of a marine fauna, which, during the Pliocene or even a somewhat

earlier period, was nearly uniform along the continuous shores of the

Polar Circle, will account, on the theory of modification, for many

closely allied forms now living in marine areas completely sundered.

Thus, I think, we can understand the presence of some closely allied,

still existing and extinct tertiary forms, on the eastern and western

shores of temperate North America; and the still more striking fact of

many closely allied crustaceans (as described in Dana’s admirable

work), some fish and other marine animals, inhabiting the Mediterranean

and the seas of Japan—these two areas being now completely separated by

the breadth of a whole continent and by wide spaces of ocean.

These cases of close relationship in species either now or formerly

inhabiting the seas on the eastern and western shores of North America,

the Mediterranean and Japan, and the temperate lands of North America

and Europe, are inexplicable on the theory of creation. We cannot

maintain that such species have been created alike, in correspondence

with the nearly similar physical conditions of the areas; for if we

compare, for instance, certain parts of South America with parts of

South Africa or Australia, we see countries closely similar in all

their physical conditions, with their inhabitants utterly dissimilar.

_Alternate Glacial Periods in the North and South._

But we must return to our more immediate subject. I am convinced that

Forbes’s view may be largely extended. In Europe we meet with the

plainest evidence of the Glacial period, from the western shores of

Britain to the Ural range, and southward to the Pyrenees. We may infer

from the frozen mammals and nature of the mountain vegetation, that

Siberia was similarly affected. In the Lebanon, according to Dr.

Hooker, perpetual snow formerly covered the central axis, and fed

glaciers which rolled 4,000 feet down the valleys. The same observer

has recently found great moraines at a low level on the Atlas range in

North Africa. Along the Himalaya, at points 900 miles apart, glaciers

have left the marks of their former low descent; and in Sikkim, Dr.

Hooker saw maize growing on ancient and gigantic moraines. Southward of

the Asiatic continent, on the opposite side of the equator, we know,

from the excellent researches of Dr. J. Haast and Dr. Hector, that in

New Zealand immense glaciers formerly descended to a low level; and the

same plants, found by Dr. Hooker on widely separated mountains in this

island tell the same story of a former cold period. From facts

communicated to me by the Rev. W.B. Clarke, it appears also that there

are traces of former glacial action on the mountains of the

south-eastern corner of Australia.

Looking to America: in the northern half, ice-borne fragments of rock

have been observed on the eastern side of the continent, as far south

as latitude 36° and 37°, and on the shores of the Pacific, where the

climate is now so different, as far south as latitude 46°. Erratic

boulders have, also, been noticed on the Rocky Mountains. In the

Cordillera of South America, nearly under the equator, glaciers once

extended far below their present level. In central Chile I examined a

vast mound of detritus with great boulders, crossing the Portillo

valley, which, there can hardly be a doubt, once formed a huge moraine;

and Mr. D. Forbes informs me that he found in various parts of the

Cordillera, from latitude 13° to 30° south, at about the height of

12,000 feet, deeply-furrowed rocks, resembling those with which he was

familiar in Norway, and likewise great masses of detritus, including

grooved pebbles. Along this whole space of the Cordillera true glaciers

do not now exist even at much more considerable heights. Further south,

on both sides of the continent, from latitude 41° to the southernmost

extremity, we have the clearest evidence of former glacial action, in

numerous immense boulders transported far from their parent source.

From these several facts, namely, from the glacial action having

extended all round the northern and southern hemispheres—from the

period having been in a geological sense recent in both

hemispheres—from its having lasted in both during a great length of

time, as may be inferred from the amount of work effected—and lastly,

from glaciers having recently descended to a low level along the whole

line of the Cordillera, it at one time appeared to me that we could not

avoid the conclusion that the temperature of the whole world had been

simultaneously lowered during the Glacial period. But now, Mr. Croll,

in a series of admirable memoirs, has attempted to show that a glacial

condition of climate is the result of various physical causes, brought

into operation by an increase in the eccentricity of the earth’s orbit.

All these causes tend towards the same end; but the most powerful

appears to be the indirect influence of the eccentricity of the orbit

upon oceanic currents. According to Mr. Croll, cold periods regularly

recur every ten or fifteen thousand years; and these at long intervals

are extremely severe, owing to certain contingencies, of which the most

important, as Sir C. Lyell has shown, is the relative position of the

land and water. Mr. Croll believes that the last great glacial period

occurred about 240,000 years ago, and endured, with slight alterations

of climate, for about 160,000 years. With respect to more ancient

glacial periods, several geologists are convinced, from direct

evidence, that such occurred during the miocene and eocene formations,

not to mention still more ancient formations. But the most important

result for us, arrived at by Mr. Croll, is that whenever the northern

hemisphere passes through a cold period the temperature of the southern

hemisphere is actually raised, with the winters rendered much milder,

chiefly through changes in the direction of the ocean currents. So

conversely it will be with the northern hemisphere, while the southern

passes through a glacial period. This conclusion throws so much light

on geographical distribution that I am strongly inclined to trust in

it; but I will first give the facts which demand an explanation.

In South America, Dr. Hooker has shown that besides many closely allied

species, between forty and fifty of the flowering plants of Tierra del

Fuego, forming no inconsiderable part of its scanty flora, are common

to North America and Europe, enormously remote as these areas in

opposite hemispheres are from each other. On the lofty mountains of

equatorial America a host of peculiar species belonging to European

genera occur. On the Organ Mountains of Brazil some few temperate

European, some Antarctic and some Andean genera were found by Gardner

which do not exist in the low intervening hot countries. On the Silla

of Caraccas the illustrious Humboldt long ago found species belonging

to genera characteristic of the Cordillera.

In Africa, several forms characteristic of Europe, and some few

representatives of the flora of the Cape of Good Hope, occur on the

mountains of Abyssinia. At the Cape of Good Hope a very few European

species, believed not to have been introduced by man, and on the

mountains several representative European forms are found which have

not been discovered in the intertropical parts of Africa. Dr. Hooker

has also lately shown that several of the plants living on the upper

parts of the lofty island of Fernando Po, and on the neighbouring

Cameroon Mountains, in the Gulf of Guinea, are closely related to those

on the mountains of Abyssinia, and likewise to those of temperate

Europe. It now also appears, as I hear from Dr. Hooker, that some of

these same temperate plants have been discovered by the Rev. R.T. Lowe

on the mountains of the Cape Verde Islands. This extension of the same

temperate forms, almost under the equator, across the whole continent

of Africa and to the mountains of the Cape Verde archipelago, is one of

the most astonishing facts ever recorded in the distribution of plants.

On the Himalaya, and on the isolated mountain ranges of the peninsula

of India, on the heights of Ceylon, and on the volcanic cones of Java,

many plants occur either identically the same or representing each

other, and at the same time representing plants of Europe not found in

the intervening hot lowlands. A list of the genera of plants collected

on the loftier peaks of Java, raises a picture of a collection made on

a hillock in Europe. Still more striking is the fact that peculiar

Australian forms are represented by certain plants growing on the

summits of the mountains of Borneo. Some of these Australian forms, as

I hear from Dr. Hooker, extend along the heights of the peninsula of

Malacca, and are thinly scattered on the one hand over India, and on

the other hand as far north as Japan.

On the southern mountains of Australia, Dr. F. Müller has discovered

several European species; other species, not introduced by man, occur

on the lowlands; and a long list can be given, as I am informed by Dr.

Hooker, of European genera, found in Australia, but not in the

intermediate torrid regions. In the admirable “Introduction to the

Flora of New Zealand,” by Dr. Hooker, analogous and striking facts are

given in regard to the plants of that large island. Hence, we see that

certain plants growing on the more lofty mountains of the tropics in

all parts of the world, and on the temperate plains of the north and

south, are either the same species or varieties of the same species. It

should, however, be observed that these plants are not strictly arctic

forms; for, as Mr. H.C. Watson has remarked, “in receding from polar

toward equatorial latitudes, the Alpine or mountain flora really become

less and less Arctic.” Besides these identical and closely allied

forms, many species inhabiting the same widely sundered areas, belong

to genera not now found in the intermediate tropical lowlands.

These brief remarks apply to plants alone; but some few analogous facts

could be given in regard to terrestrial animals. In marine productions,

similar cases likewise occur; as an example, I may quote a statement by

the highest authority, Prof. Dana, that “it is certainly a wonderful

fact that New Zealand should have a closer resemblance in its crustacea

to Great Britain, its antipode, than to any other part of the world.”

Sir J. Richardson, also, speaks of the reappearance on the shores of

New Zealand, Tasmania, &c., of northern forms of fish. Dr. Hooker

informs me that twenty-five species of Algæ are common to New Zealand

and to Europe, but have not been found in the intermediate tropical

seas.

From the foregoing facts, namely, the presence of temperate forms on

the highlands across the whole of equatorial Africa, and along the

Peninsula of India, to Ceylon and the Malay Archipelago, and in a less

well-marked manner across the wide expanse of tropical South America,

it appears almost certain that at some former period, no doubt during

the most severe part of a Glacial period, the lowlands of these great

continents were everywhere tenanted under the equator by a considerable

number of temperate forms. At this period the equatorial climate at the

level of the sea was probably about the same with that now experienced

at the height of from five to six thousand feet under the same

latitude, or perhaps even rather cooler. During this, the coldest

period, the lowlands under the equator must have been clothed with a

mingled tropical and temperate vegetation, like that described by

Hooker as growing luxuriantly at the height of from four to five

thousand feet on the lower slopes of the Himalaya, but with perhaps a

still greater preponderance of temperate forms. So again in the

mountainous island of Fernando Po, in the Gulf of Guinea, Mr. Mann

found temperate European forms beginning to appear at the height of

about five thousand feet. On the mountains of Panama, at the height of

only two thousand feet, Dr. Seemann found the vegetation like that of

Mexico, “with forms of the torrid zone harmoniously blended with those

of the temperate.”

Now let us see whether Mr. Croll’s conclusion that when the northern

hemisphere suffered from the extreme cold of the great Glacial period,

the southern hemisphere was actually warmer, throws any clear light on

the present apparently inexplicable distribution of various organisms

in the temperate parts of both hemispheres, and on the mountains of the

tropics. The Glacial period, as measured by years, must have been very

long; and when we remember over what vast spaces some naturalised

plants and animals have spread within a few centuries, this period will

have been ample for any amount of migration. As the cold became more

and more intense, we know that Arctic forms invaded the temperate

regions; and from the facts just given, there can hardly be a doubt

that some of the more vigorous, dominant and widest-spreading temperate

forms invaded the equatorial lowlands. The inhabitants of these hot

lowlands would at the same time have migrated to the tropical and

subtropical regions of the south, for the southern hemisphere was at

this period warmer. On the decline of the Glacial period, as both

hemispheres gradually recovered their former temperature, the northern

temperate forms living on the lowlands under the equator, would have

been driven to their former homes or have been destroyed, being

replaced by the equatorial forms returning from the south. Some,

however, of the northern temperate forms would almost certainly have

ascended any adjoining high land, where, if sufficiently lofty, they

would have long survived like the Arctic forms on the mountains of

Europe. They might have survived, even if the climate was not perfectly

fitted for them, for the change of temperature must have been very

slow, and plants undoubtedly possess a certain capacity for

acclimatisation, as shown by their transmitting to their offspring

different constitutional powers of resisting heat and cold.

In the regular course of events the southern hemisphere would in its

turn be subjected to a severe Glacial period, with the northern

hemisphere rendered warmer; and then the southern temperate forms would

invade the equatorial lowlands. The northern forms which had before

been left on the mountains would now descend and mingle with the

southern forms. These latter, when the warmth returned, would return to

their former homes, leaving some few species on the mountains, and

carrying southward with them some of the northern temperate forms which

had descended from their mountain fastnesses. Thus, we should have some

few species identically the same in the northern and southern temperate

zones and on the mountains of the intermediate tropical regions. But

the species left during a long time on these mountains, or in opposite

hemispheres, would have to compete with many new forms and would be

exposed to somewhat different physical conditions; hence, they would be

eminently liable to modification, and would generally now exist as

varieties or as representative species; and this is the case. We must,

also, bear in mind the occurrence in both hemispheres of former Glacial

periods; for these will account, in accordance with the same

principles, for the many quite distinct species inhabiting the same

widely separated areas, and belonging to genera not now found in the

intermediate torrid zones.

It is a remarkable fact, strongly insisted on by Hooker in regard to

America, and by Alph. de Candolle in regard to Australia, that many

more identical or slightly modified species have migrated from the

north to the south, than in a reversed direction. We see, however, a

few southern forms on the mountains of Borneo and Abyssinia. I suspect

that this preponderant migration from the north to the south is due to

the greater extent of land in the north, and to the northern forms

having existed in their own homes in greater numbers, and having

consequently been advanced through natural selection and competition to

a higher stage of perfection, or dominating power, than the southern

forms. And thus, when the two sets became commingled in the equatorial

regions, during the alternations of the Glacial periods, the northern

forms were the more powerful and were able to hold their places on the

mountains, and afterwards migrate southward with the southern forms;

but not so the southern in regard to the northern forms. In the same

manner, at the present day, we see that very many European productions

cover the ground in La Plata, New Zealand, and to a lesser degree in

Australia, and have beaten the natives; whereas extremely few southern

forms have become naturalised in any part of the northern hemisphere,

though hides, wool, and other objects likely to carry seeds have been

largely imported into Europe during the last two or three centuries

from La Plata and during the last forty or fifty years from Australia.

The Neilgherrie Mountains in India, however, offer a partial exception;

for here, as I hear from Dr. Hooker, Australian forms are rapidly

sowing themselves and becoming naturalised. Before the last great

Glacial period, no doubt the intertropical mountains were stocked with

endemic Alpine forms; but these have almost everywhere yielded to the

more dominant forms generated in the larger areas and more efficient

workshops of the north. In many islands the native productions are

nearly equalled, or even outnumbered, by those which have become

naturalised; and this is the first stage towards their extinction.

Mountains are islands on the land; and their inhabitants have yielded

to those produced within the larger areas of the north, just in the

same way as the inhabitants of real islands have everywhere yielded and

are still yielding to continental forms naturalised through man’s

agency.

The same principles apply to the distribution of terrestrial animals

and of marine productions, in the northern and southern temperate

zones, and on the intertropical mountains. When, during the height of

the Glacial period, the ocean-currents were widely different to what

they now are, some of the inhabitants of the temperate seas might have

reached the equator; of these a few would perhaps at once be able to

migrate southwards, by keeping to the cooler currents, while others

might remain and survive in the colder depths until the southern

hemisphere was in its turn subjected to a glacial climate and permitted

their further progress; in nearly the same manner as, according to

Forbes, isolated spaces inhabited by Arctic productions exist to the

present day in the deeper parts of the northern temperate seas.

I am far from supposing that all the difficulties in regard to the

distribution and affinities of the identical and allied species, which

now live so widely separated in the north and south, and sometimes on

the intermediate mountain ranges, are removed on the views above given.

The exact lines of migration cannot be indicated. We cannot say why

certain species and not others have migrated; why certain species have

been modified and have given rise to new forms, while others have

remained unaltered. We cannot hope to explain such facts, until we can

say why one species and not another becomes naturalised by man’s agency

in a foreign land; why one species ranges twice or thrice as far, and

is twice or thrice as common, as another species within their own

homes.

Various special difficulties also remain to be solved; for instance,

the occurrence, as shown by Dr. Hooker, of the same plants at points so

enormously remote as Kerguelen Land, New Zealand, and Fuegia; but

icebergs, as suggested by Lyell, may have been concerned in their

dispersal. The existence at these and other distant points of the

southern hemisphere, of species, which, though distinct, belong to

genera exclusively confined to the south, is a more remarkable case.

Some of these species are so distinct, that we cannot suppose that

there has been time since the commencement of the last Glacial period

for their migration and subsequent modification to the necessary

degree. The facts seem to indicate that distinct species belonging to

the same genera have migrated in radiating lines from a common centre;

and I am inclined to look in the southern, as in the northern

hemisphere, to a former and warmer period, before the commencement of

the last Glacial period, when the Antarctic lands, now covered with

ice, supported a highly peculiar and isolated flora. It may be

suspected that before this flora was exterminated during the last

Glacial epoch, a few forms had been already widely dispersed to various

points of the southern hemisphere by occasional means of transport, and

by the aid, as halting-places, of now sunken islands. Thus the southern

shores of America, Australia, and New Zealand may have become slightly

tinted by the same peculiar forms of life.

Sir C. Lyell in a striking passage has speculated, in language almost

identical with mine, on the effects of great alternations of climate

throughout the world on geographical distribution. And we have now seen

that Mr. Croll’s conclusion that successive Glacial periods in the one

hemisphere coincide with warmer periods in the opposite hemisphere,

together with the admission of the slow modification of species,

explains a multitude of facts in the distribution of the same and of

the allied forms of life in all parts of the globe. The living waters

have flowed during one period from the north and during another from

the south, and in both cases have reached the equator; but the stream

of life has flowed with greater force from the north than in the

opposite direction, and has consequently more freely inundated the

south. As the tide leaves its drift in horizontal lines, rising higher

on the shores where the tide rises highest, so have the living waters

left their living drift on our mountain summits, in a line gently

rising from the Arctic lowlands to a great latitude under the equator.

The various beings thus left stranded may be compared with savage races

of man, driven up and surviving in the mountain fastnesses of almost

every land, which serves as a record, full of interest to us, of the

former inhabitants of the surrounding lowlands.

The Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection Or, the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life, 6th Edition · 第 12 / 16 章