Chapter 10

We come now to the second element of the whole process of evolution, namely, what we may call overproduction or excessive multiplication. Like variation and so many other phenomena of nature, this is so real and natural that it escapes our attention until science places it before us in a new light. The normal rate of reproduction _in all species of animals_ is such that if it were unchecked, any kind of organism would cumber the earth or fill the sea in a relatively short time. That this is universally true is apparent from any illustration that might be selected. Let us take the case of a plant that lives for a single year, and that produces two seeds before it withers and dies; let us suppose that each of these seeds produces an adult plant which in its turn lives one year and forms two seeds. If this process should continue without any interference, the twentieth generation after as many years would consist of more than one million descendants of the original two-seeded annual plant, provided only that each individual of the intervening years should live a normal life and should multiply at the natural rate. But such a result as this is rendered impossible by the very nature which makes annual plants multiply in the way they do. Let us take the case of a pair of birds which produce four young in each of four seasons. Few would be prepared for the figures enumerating the offspring of a single pair of birds at the end of fifteen years, if again all individuals lived complete and normal lives: at the end of the time specified there would be more than two thousand millions of descendants. The English sparrow has been on this continent little more than fifty years; it has found the conditions in this country favorable because few natural enemies like those of its original home have been met, and as a consequence it has multiplied at an astounding rate so as to invade nearly all parts of North America, driving out many species of song birds before it. About twenty years ago David Starr Jordan wrote that if the English sparrow continued to multiply at the natural rate of that time, in twenty years more there would be one sparrow to every square inch of the state of Indiana; but of course nature has seen to it that this result has not come about. A single conger-eel may produce fifteen million eggs in a single season, and if this natural rate of increase were unchecked, the ocean would be filled solid with conger-eels in a few years. Sometimes a single tapeworm, parasitic in the human body, will produce three hundred million embryos; the fact that this animal is relatively rare diverts our attention from the alarming fertility of the species and the excessive rate of its natural increase. Perhaps the most amazing figures are those established by the students of bacteria and other micro-organisms. Many kinds of these primitive creatures are known where the descendants of a single individual will number sixteen to seventeen millions after twenty-four hours of development under ordinarily favorable conditions. Though a single rodlike individual taken as a starting-point may be less than one five-thousandth of an inch in length, under natural circumstances it multiplies at a rate which _within five days_ would cause its descendants _to fill all the oceans to the depth of one mile_. This is a fact, not a conjecture; the size of one organism is known, and the rate of its natural increase is known, so that it is merely a matter of simple arithmetic to find out what the result would be in a given time.

Even in the case of those animals that reproduce more slowly, an overcrowding of the earth would follow in a very short time. Darwin wrote that even the slow-breeding human species had doubled in the preceding quarter century. An elephant normally lives to the age of one hundred years; it begins to breed at the age of thirty, and usually produces six young by the time it is ninety. Beginning with a single pair of elephants and assuming that each individual born should live a complete life, only eight hundred years would be requisite to produce nineteen million elephants; a century or two more and there would be no standing room for the latest generation of elephants. It is only too obvious that such a result is not realized in nature, but it is on account of other natural checks, and not because the natural rate of reproductive increase is anything but excessive.

The third element of the process of natural selection is the struggle for existence which is to a large extent the direct consequence of over-multiplication. Because nature brings more individuals into existence than it can support, every animal is involved in many-sided battles with countless foes, and the victory is sometimes with one and sometimes with another participant in the conflict. A survivor turns from one vanquished enemy only to find itself engaged in mortal combat with other attacking forces. Wherever we look, we find evidence of an unceasing struggle for life, and an apparently peaceful meadow or pond is often the scene of fierce battles and tragic death that escape our notice only because the contending armies are dumb.

A community of ants, often comprising more individuals than an entire European state, depends for its national existence upon its ability to prevail over other communities with which it may engage in sanguinary wars where the losses of a single battle may exceed those of Gettysburg. The developing conger-eels find a host of enemies which greatly deplete their numbers before they can grow even into infancy. An annual plant does not produce a million living offspring in twenty years because seeds do not always fall upon favorable soil, nor do they always receive the proper amount of sunlight and moisture, or escape the eye of birds and other seed-eating animals. These three illustrations bring out the fact that there are three classes of natural conditions which must be met by every living creature if it is to succeed in life. In detail, the struggle for existence is _intra-specific_, involving some form of competition or rivalry among the members of a single species; it is _inter-specific_, as a conflict is waged by every species with other kinds of living things; and finally it involves an adjustment of life to _inorganic environmental_ influences. While it may seem unjustifiable to speak of heat and cold and sunlight as enemies, the direct effects produced by these forces are to be reckoned with no less certainty than the attacks of living foes.

The three divisions of the struggle for existence are so important not only in purely scientific respects, but also in connection with the analysis of human biology, that we may look a little further into their details, taking them up in the reverse order. Regarding the environmental influences, the way that unfavorable surroundings decimate the numbers of the plants of any one generation has already been noted, and it is typical of the vital situation everywhere. English sparrows are killed by prolonged cold and snow as surely as by the hawk. The pond in which bacteria and protozoa are living may dry up, and these organisms may be killed by the billion. Even the human species cannot be regarded as exempt from the necessity of carrying on this kind of natural strife, for scores and hundreds die every year from freezing and sunstroke and the thirsts of the desert. Unknown thousands perish at sea from storm and shipwreck, while the recorded casualties from earthquakes and volcanic eruptions and tidal waves have numbered nearly one hundred and fifty thousand in the past twenty-eight years. The effects of inorganic influences upon all forms of organic life must not be underestimated in view of such facts as these.

In the second place, the vital struggle includes the battles of every species with other kinds of living things whose interests are in opposition. The relations of protozoa and bacteria, conger-eels and other fish, English sparrows and hawks, plants and herbivorous animals, are typical examples of the universal conflict in which all organisms are involved in some way. Again it is only too evident that human beings must participate every day in some form of warfare with other species. In order that food may be provided for mankind the lives of countless wild organisms must be sacrificed in addition to the great numbers of domesticated animals reared by man only that they may be destroyed. The wolf and the wildcat and the panther have disappeared from many of our Eastern states where they formerly lived, while no longer do vast herds of bison and wild horses roam the Western prairies. Because one or another human interest was incompatible with the welfare of these animals they have been driven out by the stronger invaders.

That the victory does not always fall to the human contestant is tragically demonstrated by the effects of the incessant assaults upon man made by just one kind of living enemy,--the bacillus of tuberculosis. Every year more than one hundred and twenty-five thousand people of the United States die because they are unable to withstand its persistent attacks; five million Americans now living are doomed to death at the hands of these executioners, and the figures must be more than doubled to cover the casualties on the human side in the battles with the regiments of all the species of bacteria causing disease.

The competition between and among the individuals of one and the same species is the third part of the struggle for existence, and it is often unsurpassed in its ferocity. When two lion cubs of the same litter begin to shift for themselves, they must naturally compete in the same territory, and their contest is keener than that which involves either of them and a young lion born ten or fifteen miles away. The seeds of one parent plant falling in a restricted area will be engaged in a competitive struggle for existence that is much more intense than many other parts of nature's warfare. In brief, the intensity of the competition will be directly proportional to the similarity of two organisms in constitution and situation, and to the consequent similarity of vital welfare. The interests of the white man and the Indian ran counter to each other a few hundred years ago, and the more powerful colonists won. The assumption of the white man's burden too often demonstrates the natural effect of diversity of interest, and the domination of the stronger over the weaker. In any civilized community the manufacturer, farmer, financier, lawyer, and doctor must struggle to maintain themselves under the conditions of their total inorganic and social environments; and in so far as the object of each is to make a living for himself, they are competitors. But the contest becomes more absorbing when it involves broker and broker, lawyer and lawyer, financier and magnate, because in each case the contestants are striving for an identical need of success.

Although the severity of the conflict imposed by nature is somewhat modified in the case of social organisms, where community competes with community and nation with nation, no form of social organization has yet been developed where the individual contest carried on by the members of one community has been done away with. It is an inexorable law of nature that all living things must fight daily and hourly for their very lives, because so many are brought into the world with each new generation that there is not sufficient room for all. No organism can escape the struggle for existence except by an unconditional surrender that results in death. Everywhere we turn to examine the happenings of organic life we can find nothing but a wearisome warfare in which it is the ultimate and cruel lot of every contestant to admit defeat.

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What now are the results of variation, over-multiplication, and competition? Since some must die because nature cannot support all that she produces, since only a small proportion of those that enter upon life can find a foothold or successfully meet the hordes of their enemies, which will be the ones to survive? Surely those that have even the slightest advantage over their fellows will live when their companions perish. It is impossible that the result could be otherwise; it must follow inevitably from what has been described before. The whole process has its positive and its negative aspects: the survival of the fittest and the elimination of the unfit. Perhaps it would be more correct to say the more real element is the negative one, for those which are least capable of meeting their living foes and the decimating conditions of inorganic nature are the first to die, while the others will be able to prolong the struggle for a longer or shorter period before they too succumb. Thus the destruction of the unfit leaves the field to the better adapted, that is, to those that vary in such a way as to be completely or at least partially adapted to carry on an efficient life. In this way Darwinism explains the universal condition of organic adjustment, showing that it exists because there is no place in nature for the incompetent.

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Finally we come to the process of inheritance as viewed by Darwin, and its part in the production and perfection of new species. In every case, Darwin said, the efficiency or inefficiency of an animal depends upon its characteristics of an inherited or congenital nature. Variations in these qualities provide the array of more or less different individuals from which impersonal nature selects the better by throwing out first the inferior ones. An organism can certainly change in direct response to environmental influence or by the indirect results of use and disuse, but not unless it is so constituted by heredity as to be able to change adaptively. Therefore the final basis of success in life must be sought in the inherited constitutions of organic forms.

For the reason that the qualities which preserve an animal's existence are already congenital, they are already transmissible, as Darwin contended. Since his time much has been learned about the course of inheritance and its physical basis, and the new discoveries have confirmed the essential truth of Darwin's statement that the congenital characters only possess a real power in the evolution of species.

We must devote some time to the subject of inheritance at a later juncture, but before leaving the matter an additional point must be established here; the selective process deals immediately with congenital results, as the heritable characters that make for success or failure in life, but by doing this it really selects the group of congenital factors behind and antecedent to their effects. For example, an ape that survives because of its superior cunning, does so because it varies congenitally in an improved direction; and the factors that have made it superior are indirectly but no less certainly preserved through the survival of their results in the way of efficiency. Hereditary strains are thus the ultimate things selected through the organic constitutions that they determine and produce.

Natural selection, as the whole of this intricate process, is simply trial and error on a gigantic scale. Nature is such that thousands of varying individuals are produced in order that a mere handful or only one survivor may be chosen to bear the burden of carrying on the species for another generation. The effect of nature's process is judicial, as it were. We may liken the many and varied conditions of life to as many jurymen, before which every living thing must appear for judgment as to its fitness or lack of it. A unanimous verdict of complete or partial approval must be rendered, or an animal dies, for the failure to meet a single vital condition results in sure destruction. Of course, we cannot regard selection as involving anything like a primitive conscious choice. It is because we individualize all of the complex totality of the world as "Nature" with a capital N that so many people unconsciously come to think of it as a human-like personality. He who would go further and hold that all of nature is actually conscious and the dwelling-place of the supernatural ultimate, must beware of the logical results of such a view. What must we think of the ethical status of such a conscious power who causes countless millions of creatures to come into the world and ruthlessly compels them to battle with one another until a cruel and tragic death ends their existence?

But that is a metaphysical matter, with which we need not concern ourselves in this discussion; the important point is that among the everyday happenings of life are processes that are quite competent to account for the condition of adaptation exhibited by various animal forms. These processes are real and natural, not imaginative or artificial, and so they will remain even though it will become clear that much is still to be learned about the causes of variation and the course of biological inheritance. Darwin was the first to contend that natural selection is but a part of nature's method of accomplishing evolution. As such it is content to recognize variations and does not concern itself with the origin of modifications; it accepts the obvious fact that congenital variations are inherited, although it leaves the question as to how they are inherited for further examination. Because the doctrine of natural selection does not profess to answer all the questions propounded by scientific inquisitiveness, it must not be supposed that it fails in its immediate purpose of giving a natural explanation of how evolution may be partly accounted for.

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Before proceeding to the post-Darwinian investigations that have done so much to amplify the account of natural evolution, let us consider the contrasted explanation given by Lamarck and his followers. As we have stated earlier, Lamarckianism is the name given to the doctrine that modifications other than those due to congenital factors may enter into the heritage of a species, and may add themselves to those already combined as the peculiar characteristics of a particular species. Let us take the giraffe and its long neck as a concrete example. The great length of this part is obviously an adaptive character, enabling the animal to browse upon the softer leafy shoots of shrubs and trees. The vertebral column of the neck comprises just the same number of bones that are present in the short-necked relatives of this form, so that we are justified in accepting as a fact the evolution of the giraffe's long neck by the lengthening of each one of originally shorter vertebræ. The Lamarckian explanation of this fact would be that the earliest forms in the ancestry of the giraffe as such stretched their necks as they fed, and that this peculiar function with its correlated structural modification became habitual. The slight increase brought about by any single individual would be inherited and transmitted to the giraffes of the next generation; in other words, an individually acquired character would be inherited. The young giraffes of this next generation would then begin, not where their parents did, but from an advanced condition. Thus, by continued stretching of the neck and by continued transmission of the elongated condition, the great length of this part of the body in the modern giraffe would be attained.

The explanation of natural selection would be quite different. The Darwinian would say that all the young giraffes of any one generation would vary with respect to the length of the neck. Those with longer necks would have a slight advantage over their fellows in the extended sphere of their grazing territory. Being better nourished than the others, they would be stronger and so they would be more able to escape from their flesh-eating foes, like the lion. For the reason that their variation would be congenital and therefore already transmissible, their offspring would vary about the advanced condition, and further selection of the longer necked individuals would lead to the modern result.

The Lamarckian explanation encounters one grave difficulty which is not met by the second one, in so far as it demands some method by which a bodily change may be introduced into the stream of inheritance. So far, this difficulty has not been overcome, and the present verdict of science is that the transmission of characters acquired as the result of other than congenital factors is not proved. It would be unscientific to say that it cannot be proved in the future, but there are good _a priori_ grounds for disbelief in the principle, while furthermore the results of experiments that have been undertaken to test its truth have been entirely negative. Rats and mice have had their tails cut off to see if this mutilation would have its effect upon their young, and though this has been done for more than one hundred successive generations the length of the tail has not been altered. Quite unconscious of the scientific problem, many human races have performed precisely similar experiments through centuries of time. In some classes of Chinese, the feet of young girls have been bound in such a way as to produce a small, malformed foot, but this has not resulted in any hereditary diminution in the size of the feet of Chinese females. Many other similar mutilations have been practised, as for example, the flattening of the skull of some North American Indians, but the deformity must be produced again with each recurring generation. One after another, the cases that were supposed to give positive evidence have been reinvestigated, with the result that has been stated above. It would seem, therefore, that heredity and congenital modification must play by far the greater part in the evolution of species.

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The doctrine of natural selection took form in the mind of Darwin mainly on account of three potent influences; these were, first, the geological doctrine of uniformitarianism proposed by Lyell, second, his own observations of wild life in many lands and his analysis of the breeder's results with domesticated animals, and third, the writings of Malthus dealing with overpopulation. As Darwin had read the works of Buffon, Lamarck, and Erasmus Darwin, his grandfather, who had written a famous treatise under the title of "Zoonomia," he was familiar with the evidences known in his student days tending to prove that organic evolution was a real natural process. Lyell's doctrine of uniform geological history made an early and deep impression upon his mind, and it led him to ask himself whether the efficient causes of past evolution might not be revealed by an analysis of the present workings of nature. As naturalist of the "Beagle" during its four years' cruise around the world, Darwin saw many new lands and observed varied circumstances under which the organisms of the tropics and other regions lived their lives. The fierce struggle for existence waged by the denizens of the jungle recalled to him the views of Malthus regarding overpopulation and its results. These and other influences led him to begin the remarkable series of note-books, from which it is interesting indeed to learn how the doctrine of natural selection began to assume a definite and permanent form in his mind, as year followed year, and evidence was added to evidence. And it is a valuable lesson to the student of science that for twenty-five years Darwin devoted all his time to the acquisition of facts before he gave his doctrine to the world in the famous "Origin of Species."