The _variety_ would now have replaced the _species_, of which it would

be a more perfectly developed and more highly organized form. It would

be in all respects better adapted to secure its safety, and to prolong

its individual existence and that of the race. Such a variety _could

not_ return to the original form; for that form is an inferior one, and

could never compete with it for existence. Granted, therefore, a

"tendency" to reproduce the original type of the species, still the

variety must ever remain preponderant in numbers, and under adverse

physical conditions _again alone survive_. But this new, improved, and

populous race might itself, in course of time, give rise to new

varieties, exhibiting several diverging modifications of form, any of

which, tending to increase the facilities for preserving existence,

must, by the same general law, in their turn become predominant. Here,

then, we have _progression and continued divergence_ deduced from the

general laws which regulate the existence of animals in a state of

nature, and from the undisputed fact that varieties do frequently occur.

It is not, however, contended that this result would be invariable; a

change of physical conditions in the district might at times materially

modify it, rendering the race which had been the most capable of

supporting existence under the former conditions now the least so, and

even causing the extinction of the newer and, for a time, superior race,

while the old or parent species and its first inferior varieties

continued to flourish. Variations in unimportant parts might also occur,

having no perceptible effect on the life-preserving powers; and the

varieties so furnished might run a course parallel with the parent

species, either giving rise to further variations or returning to the

former type. All we argue for is, that certain varieties have a tendency

to maintain their existence longer than the original species, and this

tendency must make itself felt; for though the doctrine of chances or

averages can never be trusted to on a limited scale, yet, if applied to

high numbers, the results come nearer to what theory demands, and, as we

approach to an infinity of examples, become strictly accurate. Now the

scale on which nature works is so vast--the numbers of individuals and

the periods of time with which she deals approach so near to infinity,

than any cause, however slight, and however liable to be veiled and

counteracted by accidental circumstances, must in the end produce its

full legitimate results.

_The Partial Reversion of Domesticated Varieties explained._

Let us now turn to domesticated animals, and inquire how varieties

produced among them are affected by the principles here enunciated. The

essential difference in the condition of wild and domestic animals is

this,--that among the former, their well-being and very existence depend

upon the full exercise and healthy condition of all their senses and

physical powers, whereas, among the latter, these are only partially

exercised, and in some cases are absolutely unused. A wild animal has to

search, and often to labour, for every mouthful of food--to exercise

sight, hearing, and smell in seeking it, and in avoiding dangers, in

procuring shelter from the inclemency of the seasons, and in providing

for the subsistence and safety of its offspring. There is no muscle of

its body that is not called into daily and hourly activity; there is no

sense or faculty that is not strengthened by continual exercise. The

domestic animal, on the other hand, has food provided for it, is

sheltered, and often confined, to guard it against the vicissitudes of

the seasons, is carefully secured from the attacks of its natural

enemies, and seldom even rears its young without human assistance. Half

of its senses and faculties become quite useless, and the other half are

but occasionally called into feeble exercise, while even its muscular

system is only irregularly brought into action.

Now when a variety of such an animal occurs, having increased power or

capacity in any organ or sense, such increase is totally useless, is

never called into action, and may even exist without the animal ever

becoming aware of it. In the wild animal, on the contrary, all its

faculties and powers being brought into full action for the necessities

of existence, any increase becomes immediately available, is

strengthened by exercise, and must even slightly modify the food, the

habits, and the whole economy of the race. It creates as it were a new

animal, one of superior powers, and which will necessarily increase in

numbers and outlive those which are inferior to it.

Again, in the domesticated animal all variations have an equal chance of

continuance; and those which would decidedly render a wild animal unable

to compete with its fellows and continue its existence are no

disadvantage whatever in a state of domesticity. Our quickly fattening

pigs, short-legged sheep pouter pigeons, and poodle dogs could never

have come into existence in a state of nature, because the very first

step towards such inferior forms would have led to the rapid extinction

of the race; still less could they now exist in competition with their

wild allies. The great speed but slight endurance of the race horse, the

unwieldy strength of the ploughman's team, would both be useless in a

state of nature. If turned wild on the pampas, such animals would

probably soon become extinct, or under favourable circumstances might

each gradually lose those extreme qualities which would never be called

into action, and in a few generations revert to a common type, which

must be that in which the various powers and faculties are so

proportioned to each other as to be best adapted to procure food and

secure safety,--that in which by the full exercise of every part of its

organisation the animal can alone continue to live. Domestic varieties,

when turned wild, _must_ return to something near the type of the

original wild stock, _or become altogether extinct_.[F]

+--------------------------------------------------------------+

| [F] That is, they will vary, and the variations which tend |

| to adapt them to the wild state, and therefore approximate |

| them to wild animals, will be preserved. Those individuals |

| which do not vary sufficiently will perish. |

+--------------------------------------------------------------+

We see, then, that no inferences as to the permanence of varieties in a

state of nature can be deduced from the observations of those occurring

among domestic animals. The two are so much opposed to each other in

every circumstance of their existence, that what applies to the one is

almost sure not to apply to the other. Domestic animals are abnormal,

irregular, artificial; they are subject to variations which never occur

and never can occur in a state of nature: their very existence depends

altogether on human care; so far are many of them removed from that just

proportion of faculties, that true balance of organisation, by means of

which alone an animal left to its own resources can preserve its

existence and continue its race.

_Lamarck's Hypothesis very different from that now advanced._

The hypothesis of Lamarck--that progressive changes in species have been

produced by the attempts of animals to increase the development of their

own organs, and thus modify their structure and habits--has been

repeatedly and easily refuted by all writers on the subject of varieties

and species, and it seems to have been considered that when this was

done the whole question has been finally settled; but the view here

developed renders such hypothesis quite unnecessary, by showing that

similar results must be produced by the action of principles constantly

at work in nature. The powerful retractile talons of the falcon-and the

cat-tribes have not been produced or increased by the volition of those

animals; but among the different varieties which occurred in the earlier

and less highly organized forms of these groups, _those always survived

longest which had the greatest facilities for seizing their prey_.

Neither did the giraffe acquire its long neck by desiring to reach the

foliage of the more lofty shrubs, and constantly stretching its neck for

the purpose, but because any varieties which occurred among its

antitypes with a longer neck than usual _at once secured a fresh range

of pasture over the same ground as their shorter-necked companions, and

on the first scarcity of food were thereby enabled to outlive them_.

Even the peculiar colours of many animals, more especially of insects,

so closely resembling the soil or leaves or bark on which they

habitually reside, are explained on the same principle; for though in

the course of ages varieties of many tints may have occurred, _yet those

races having colours best adapted to concealment from their enemies

would inevitably survive the longest_. We have also here an acting cause

to account for that balance so often observed in nature,--a deficiency

in one set of organs always being compensated by an increased

development of some others--powerful wings accompanying weak feet, or

great velocity making up for the absence of defensive weapons; for it

has been shown that all varieties in which an unbalanced deficiency

occurred could not long continue their existence. The action of this

principle is exactly like that of the centrifugal governor of the steam

engine, which checks and corrects any irregularities almost before they

become evident; and in like manner no unbalanced deficiency in the

animal kingdom can ever reach any conspicuous magnitude, because it

would make itself felt at the very first step, by rendering existence

difficult and extinction almost sure soon to follow. An origin such as

is here advocated will also agree with the peculiar character of the

modifications of form and structure which obtain in organized

beings--the many lines of divergence from a central type, the increasing

efficiency and power of a particular organ through a succession of

allied species, and the remarkable persistence of unimportant parts,

such as colour, texture of plumage and hair, form of horns or crests,

through a series of species differing considerably in more essential

characters. It also furnishes us with a reason for that "more

specialized structure" which Professor Owen states to be a

characteristic of recent compared with extinct forms, and which would

evidently be the result of the progressive modification of any organ

applied to a special purpose in the animal economy.

_Conclusion._

We believe we have now shown that there is a tendency in nature to the

continued progression of certain classes of _varieties_ further and

further from the original type--a progression to which there appears no

reason to assign any definite limits--and that the same principle which

produces this result in a state of nature will also explain why domestic

varieties have a tendency, when they become wild, to revert to the

original type. This progression, by minute steps, in various

directions, but always checked and balanced by the necessary conditions,

subject to which alone existence can be preserved, may, it is believed,

be followed out so as to agree with all the phaenomena presented by

organized beings, their extinction and succession in past ages, and all

the extraordinary modifications of form, instinct and habits which they

exhibit.

III.

MIMICRY, AND OTHER PROTECTIVE RESEMBLANCES AMONG ANIMALS.

There is no more convincing proof of the truth of a comprehensive

theory, than its power of absorbing and finding a place for new facts,

and its capability of interpreting phaenomena which had been previously

looked upon as unaccountable anomalies. It is thus that the law of

universal gravitation and the undulatory theory of light have become

established and universally accepted by men of science. Fact after fact

has been brought forward as being apparently inconsistent with them, and

one after another these very facts have been shown to be the

consequences of the laws they were at first supposed to disprove. A

false theory will never stand this test. Advancing knowledge brings to

light whole groups of facts which it cannot deal with, and its advocates

steadily decrease in numbers, notwithstanding the ability and scientific

skill with which it may have been supported. The great name of Edward

Forbes did not prevent his theory of "Polarity in the distribution of

Organic beings in Time" from dying a natural death; but the most

striking illustration of the behaviour of a false theory is to be found

in the "Circular and Quinarian System" of classification propounded by

MacLeay, and developed by Swainson, with an amount of knowledge and

ingenuity that have rarely been surpassed. This theory was eminently

attractive, both from its symmetry and completeness, and from the

interesting nature of the varied analogies and affinities which it

brought to light and made use of. The series of Natural History volumes

in "Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopaedia," in which Mr. Swainson developed it in

most departments of the animal kingdom, made it widely known; and in

fact for a long time these were the best and almost the only popular

text-books for the rising generation of naturalists. It was favourably

received too by the older school, which was perhaps rather an indication

of its unsoundness. A considerable number of well-known naturalists

either spoke approvingly of it, or advocated similar principles, and for

a good many years it was decidedly in the ascendent. With such a

favourable introduction, and with such talented exponents, it must have

become established if it had had any germ of truth in it; yet it quite

died out in a few short years, its very existence is now a matter of

history; and so rapid was its fall that its talented creator, Swainson,

perhaps lived to be the last man who believed in it.

Such is the course of a false theory. That of a true one is very

different, as may be well seen by the progress of opinion on the subject

of Natural Selection. In less than eight years "The Origin of Species"

has produced conviction in the minds of a majority of the most eminent

living men of science. New facts, new problems, new difficulties as they

arise are accepted, solved or removed by this theory; and its principles

are illustrated by the progress and conclusions of every well

established branch of human knowledge. It is the object of the present

essay to show how it has recently been applied to connect together and

explain a variety of curious facts which had long been considered as

inexplicable anomalies.

_Importance of the Principle of Utility._

Perhaps no principle has ever been announced so fertile in results as

that which Mr. Darwin so earnestly impresses upon us, and which is

indeed a necessary deduction from the theory of Natural Selection,

namely--that none of the definite facts of organic nature, no special

organ, no characteristic form or marking, no peculiarities of instinct

or of habit, no relations between species or between groups of

species--can exist, but which must now be or once have been _useful_ to

the individuals or the races which possess them. This great principle

gives us a clue which we can follow out in the study of many recondite

phaenomena, and leads us to seek a meaning and a purpose of some definite

character in minutiae which we should be otherwise almost sure to pass

over as insignificant or unimportant.

_Popular Theories of Colour in Animals._

The adaptation of the external colouring of animals to their conditions

of life has long been recognised, and has been imputed either to an

originally created specific peculiarity, or to the direct action of

climate, soil, or food. Where the former explanation has been accepted,

it has completely checked inquiry, since we could never get any further

than the fact of the adaptation. There was nothing more to be known

about the matter. The second explanation was soon found to be quite

inadequate to deal with all the varied phases of the phaenomena, and to

be contradicted by many well-known facts. For example, wild rabbits are

always of grey or brown tints well suited for concealment among grass

and fern. But when these rabbits are domesticated, without any change of

climate or food, they vary into white or black, and these varieties may

be multiplied to any extent, forming white or black races. Exactly the

same thing has occurred with pigeons; and in the case of rats and mice,

the white variety has not been shown to be at all dependent on

alteration of climate, food, or other external conditions. In many cases

the wings of an insect not only assume the exact tint of the bark or

leaf it is accustomed to rest on, but the form and veining of the leaf

or the exact rugosity of the bark is imitated; and these detailed

modifications cannot be reasonably imputed to climate or to food, since

in many cases the species does not feed on the substance it resembles,

and when it does, no reasonable connexion can be shown to exist between

the supposed cause and the effect produced. It was reserved for the

theory of Natural Selection to solve all these problems, and many others

which were not at first supposed to be directly connected with them. To

make these latter intelligible, it will be necessary to give a sketch of

the whole series of phaenomena which may be classed under the head of

useful or protective resemblances.

_Importance of Concealment as Influencing Colour._

Concealment, more or less complete, is useful to many animals, and

absolutely essential to some. Those which have numerous enemies from

which they cannot escape by rapidity of motion, find safety in

concealment. Those which prey upon others must also be so constituted as

not to alarm them by their presence or their approach, or they would

soon die of hunger. Now it is remarkable in how many cases nature gives

this boon to the animal, by colouring it with such tints as may best

serve to enable it to escape from its enemies or to entrap its prey.

Desert animals as a rule are desert-coloured. The lion is a typical

example of this, and must be almost invisible when crouched upon the

sand or among desert rocks and stones. Antelopes are all more or less

sandy-coloured. The camel is pre-eminently so. The Egyptian cat and the

Pampas cat are sandy or earth-coloured. The Australian kangaroos are of

the same tints, and the original colour of the wild horse is supposed to

have been a sandy or clay-colour.

The desert birds are still more remarkably protected by their

assimilative hues. The stonechats, the larks, the quails, the

goatsuckers and the grouse, which abound in the North African and

Asiatic deserts, are all tinted and mottled so as to resemble with

wonderful accuracy the average colour and aspect of the soil in the

district they inhabit. The Rev. H. Tristram, in his account of the

ornithology of North Africa in the 1st volume of the "Ibis," says: "In

the desert, where neither trees, brush-wood, nor even undulation of the

surface afford the slightest protection to its foes, a modification of

colour which shall be assimilated to that of the surrounding country, is

absolutely necessary. Hence _without exception_ the upper plumage of

_every bird_, whether lark, chat, sylvain, or sand-grouse, and also the

fur of _all the smaller mammals_, and the skin of _all the snakes and

lizards_, is of one uniform isabelline or sand colour." After the

testimony of so able an observer it is unnecessary to adduce further

examples of the protective colours of desert animals.

Almost equally striking are the cases of arctic animals possessing the

white colour that best conceals them upon snowfields and icebergs. The

polar bear is the only bear that is white, and it lives constantly among

snow and ice. The arctic fox, the ermine and the alpine hare change to

white in winter only, because in summer white would be more conspicuous

than any other colour, and therefore a danger rather than a protection;

but the American polar hare, inhabiting regions of almost perpetual

snow, is white all the year round. Other animals inhabiting the same

Northern regions do not, however, change colour. The sable is a good

example, for throughout the severity of a Siberian winter it retains its

rich brown fur. But its habits are such that it does not need the

protection of colour, for it is said to be able to subsist on fruits and

berries in winter, and to be so active upon the trees as to catch small

birds among the branches. So also the woodchuck of Canada has a

dark-brown fur; but then it lives in burrows and frequents river banks,

catching fish and small animals that live in or near the water.

Among birds, the ptarmigan is a fine example of protective colouring.

Its summer plumage so exactly harmonizes with the lichen-coloured stones

among which it delights to sit, that a person may walk through a flock

of them without seeing a single bird; while in winter its white plumage

is an almost equal protection. The snow-bunting, the jer-falcon, and the

snowy owl are also white-coloured birds inhabiting the arctic regions,

and there can be little doubt but that their colouring is to some extent

protective.

Nocturnal animals supply us with equally good illustrations. Mice, rats,

bats, and moles possess the least conspicuous of hues, and must be quite

invisible at times when any light colour would be instantly seen. Owls

and goatsuckers are of those dark mottled tints that will assimilate

with bark and lichen, and thus protect them during the day, and at the

same time be inconspicuous in the dusk.

It is only in the tropics, among forests which never lose their foliage,

that we find whole groups of birds whose chief colour is green. The

parrots are the most striking example, but we have also a group of green

pigeons in the East; and the barbets, leaf-thrushes, bee-eaters,

white-eyes, turacos, and several smaller groups, have so much green in

their plumage as to tend greatly to conceal them among the foliage.

_Special Modifications of Colour._

The conformity of tint which has been so far shown to exist between

animals and their habitations is of a somewhat general character; we

will now consider the cases of more special adaptation. If the lion is

enabled by his sandy colour readily to conceal himself by merely

crouching down upon the desert, how, it may be asked, do the elegant

markings of the tiger, the jaguar, and the other large cats agree with

this theory? We reply that these are generally cases of more or less

special adaptation. The tiger is a jungle animal, and hides himself

among tufts of grass or of bamboos, and in these positions the vertical

stripes with which his body is adorned must so assimilate with the

vertical stems of the bamboo, as to assist greatly in concealing him

from his approaching prey. How remarkable it is that besides the lion

and tiger, almost all the other large cats are arboreal in their

habits, and almost all have ocellated or spotted skins, which must

certainly tend to blend them with the background of foliage; while the

one exception, the puma, has an ashy brown uniform fur, and has the

habit of clinging so closely to a limb of a tree while waiting for his

prey to pass beneath as to be hardly distinguishable from the bark.

Among birds, the ptarmigan, already mentioned, must be considered a

remarkable case of special adaptation. Another is a South-American

goatsucker (Caprimulgus rupestris) which rests in the bright sunshine on

little bare rocky islets in the Upper Rio Negro, where its unusually

light colours so closely resemble those of the rock and sand, that it

can scarcely be detected till trodden upon.

The Duke of Argyll, in his "Reign of Law," has pointed out the admirable

adaptation of the colours of the woodcock to its protection. The various

browns and yellows and pale ash-colour that occur in fallen leaves are

all reproduced in its plumage, so that when according to its habit it

rests upon the ground under trees, it is almost impossible to detect it.

In snipes the colours are modified so as to be equally in harmony with

the prevalent forms and colours of marshy vegetation. Mr. J. M. Lester,

in a paper read before the Rugby School Natural History Society,

observes:--"The wood-dove, when perched amongst the branches of its

favourite _fir_, is scarcely discernible; whereas, were it among some

lighter foliage, the blue and purple tints in its plumage would far

sooner betray it. The robin redbreast too, although it might be thought

that the red on its breast made it much easier to be seen, is in reality

not at all endangered by it, since it generally contrives to get among

some russet or yellow fading leaves, where the red matches very well

with the autumn tints, and the brown of the rest of the body with the

bare branches."

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