Chapter 42

51.) If a considerable number of improved cattle, sheep, or other animals of the same race, were allowed to breed freely together, with no selection, but with no change in their condition of life, there can be no doubt that after a score or hundred generations they would be very far from excellent of their kind; but, from what we see of the many common races of dogs, cattle, fowls, pigeons, etc., which without any particular care have long retained nearly the same character, we have no grounds for believing that they would altogether depart from their type.

It is a general belief amongst breeders that characters of all kinds become fixed by long-continued inheritance. But I have attempted to show in the fourteenth chapter that this belief apparently resolves itself into the following proposition, namely, that all characters whatever, whether recently acquired or ancient, tend to be transmitted, but that those which have already long withstood all counteracting influences, will, as a general rule, continue to withstand them, and consequently be faithfully transmitted.

TENDENCY IN MAN TO CARRY THE PRACTICE OF SELECTION TO AN EXTREME POINT.

It is an important principle that in the process of selection man almost invariably wishes to go to an extreme point. Thus, there is no limit to his desire to breed certain kinds of horses and dogs as fleet as possible, and others as strong as possible; certain kinds of sheep for extreme fineness, and others for extreme length of wool; and he wishes to produce fruit, grain, tubers, and other useful parts of plants, as large and excellent as possible. With animals bred for amusement, the same principle is even more powerful; for fashion, as we see in our dress, always runs to extremes. This view has been expressly admitted by fanciers. Instances were given in the chapters on the pigeon, but here is another: Mr. Eaton, after describing a comparatively new variety, namely, the Archangel, remarks, "What fanciers intend doing with this bird I am at a loss to know, whether they intend to breed it down to the tumbler's head and beak, or carry it out to the carrier's head and beak; leaving it as they found it, is not progressing." Ferguson, speaking of fowls, says, "their peculiarities, whatever they may be, must necessarily be fully developed: a little peculiarity forms nought but ugliness, seeing it violates the existing laws of symmetry." So Mr. Brent, in discussing the merits of the sub-varieties of the Belgian canary-bird, remarks, "Fanciers always go to extremes; they do not admire indefinite properties." (21/58. J.M. Eaton 'A Treatise on Fancy Pigeons' page 82; Ferguson on 'Rare and Prize Poultry' page 162; Mr. Brent in 'Cottage Gardener' October 1860 page 13.)

This principle, which necessarily leads to divergence of character, explains the present state of various domestic races. We can thus see how it is that racehorses and dray-horses, greyhounds and mastiffs, which are opposed to each other in every character,--how varieties so distinct as Cochin-china fowls and bantams, or carrier-pigeons with very long beaks, and tumblers with excessively short beaks, have been derived from the same stock. As each breed is slowly improved, the inferior varieties are first neglected and finally lost. In a few cases, by the aid of old records, or from intermediate varieties still existing in countries where other fashions have prevailed, we are enabled partially to trace the graduated changes through which certain breeds have passed. Selection, whether methodical or unconscious, always tending towards an extreme point, together with the neglect and slow extinction of the intermediate and less-valued forms, is the key which unlocks the mystery of how man has produced such wonderful results.

In a few instances selection, guided by utility for a single purpose, has led to convergence of character. All the improved and different races of the pig, as Nathusius has well shown (21/59. 'Die Racen des Schweines' 1860 s. 48.), closely approach each other in character, in their shortened legs and muzzles, their almost hairless, large, rounded bodies, and small tusks. We see some degree of convergence in the similar outline of the body in well-bred cattle belonging to distinct races. (21/60. See some good remarks on this head by M. de Quatrefages 'Unite de l'Espece Humaine' 1861 page 119.) I know of no other such cases.

Continued divergence of character depends on, and is indeed a clear proof, as previously remarked, of the same parts continuing to vary in the same direction. The tendency to mere general variability or plasticity of organisation can certainly be inherited, even from one parent, as has been shown by Gartner and Kolreuter, in the production of varying hybrids from two species, of which one alone was variable. It is in itself probable that, when an organ has varied in any manner, it will again vary in the same manner, if the conditions which first caused the being to vary remain, as far as can be judged, the same. This is either tacitly or expressly admitted by all horticulturists: if a gardener observes one or two additional petals in a flower, he feels confident that in a few generations he will be able to raise a double flower, crowded with petals. Some of the seedlings from the weeping Moccas oak were so prostrate that they only crawled along the ground. A seedling from the fastigiate or upright Irish yew is described as differing greatly from the parent-form "by the exaggeration of the fastigiate habit of its branches." (21/61. Verlot 'Des Varietes' 1865 page 94.) Mr. Shirreff, who has been highly successful in raising new kinds of wheat, remarks, "A good variety may safely be regarded as the forerunner of a better one." (21/62. Mr. Patrick Shirreff 'Gardener's Chronicle' 1858 page 771.) A great rose-grower, Mr. Rivers, has made the same remark with respect to roses. Sageret (21/63. 'Pomologie Physiolog.' 1830 page 106.), who had large experience, in speaking of the future progress of fruit-trees, observes that the most important principle is "that the more plants have departed from their original type, the more they tend to depart from it." There is apparently much truth in this remark; for we can in no other way understand the surprising amount of difference between varieties in the parts or qualities which are valued, whilst other parts retain nearly their original character.

The foregoing discussion naturally leads to the question, what is the limit to the possible amount of variation in any part or quality, and, consequently, is there any limit to what selection can effect? Will a racehorse ever be reared fleeter than Eclipse? Can our prize-cattle and sheep be still further improved? Will a gooseberry ever weigh more than that produced by "London" in 1852? Will the beet-root in France yield a greater percentage of sugar? Will future varieties of wheat and other grain produce heavier crops than our present varieties? These questions cannot be positively answered; but it is certain that we ought to be cautious in answering them by a negative. In some lines of variation the limit has probably been reached. Youatt believes that the reduction of bone in some of our sheep has already been carried so far that it entails great delicacy of constitution. (21/64. Youatt on 'Sheep' page 521.) But seeing the great improvement within recent times in our cattle and sheep, and especially in our pigs; seeing the wonderful increase in weight in our poultry of all kinds during the last few years; he would be a bold man who would assert that perfection has been reached. It has often been said that Eclipse never was, and never will be, beaten in speed by any other horse; but on making inquiries I find that the best judges believe that our present racehorses are fleeter. (21/65. See also Stonehenge 'British Rural Sports' edition of 1871 page 384.) The attempt to raise a new variety of wheat more productive than the many old kinds, might have been thought until lately quite hopeless; but this has been effected by Major Hallett, by careful selection. With respect to almost all our animals and plants, those who are best qualified to judge do not believe that the extreme point of perfection has yet been reached even in the characters which have already been carried to a high standard. For instance, the short-faced tumbler-pigeon has been greatly modified; nevertheless, according to Mr. Eaton (21/66. 'A Treatise on the Almond Tumbler' page 1.) "the field is still as open for fresh competitors as it was one hundred years ago." Over and over again it has been said that perfection had been attained with our flowers, but a higher standard has soon been reached. Hardly any fruit has been more improved than the strawberry, yet a great authority remarks (21/67. M. J. de Jonghe in 'Gardener's Chronicle' 1858 page 173.), "it must not be concealed that we are far from the extreme limits at which we may arrive."

No doubt there is a limit beyond which the organisation cannot be modified compatibly with health or life. The extreme degree of fleetness, for instance, of which a terrestrial animal is capable, may have been acquired by our present racehorses; but as Mr. Wallace has well remarked (21/68. 'Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection' 2nd edition 1871 page 292.), the question that interests us, "is not whether indefinite and unlimited change in any or all directions is possible, but whether such differences as do occur in nature could have been produced by the accumulation of varieties by selection." And in the case of our domestic productions, there can be no doubt that many parts of the organisation, to which man has attended, have been thus modified to a greater degree than the corresponding parts in the natural species of the same genera or even families. We see this in the form and size of our light and heavy dogs or horses,--in the beak and many other characters of our pigeons,--in the size and quality of many fruits,--in comparison with the species belonging to the same natural groups.

Time is an important element in the formation of our domestic races, as it permits innumerable individuals to be born, and these when exposed to diversified conditions are rendered variable. Methodical selection has been occasionally practised from an ancient period to the present day, even by semi-civilised people, and during former times will have produced some effect. Unconscious selection will have been still more effective; for during a lengthened period the more valuable individual animals will occasionally have been saved, and the less valuable neglected. In the course of time, different varieties, especially in the less civilised countries, will also have been more or less modified through natural selection. It is generally believed, though on this head we have little or no evidence, that new characters in time become fixed; and after having long remained fixed it seems possible that under new conditions they might again be rendered variable.

How great the lapse of time has been since man first domesticated animals and cultivated plants, we begin dimly to see. When the lake-dwellings of Switzerland were inhabited during the Neolithic period, several animals were already domesticated and various plants cultivated. The science of language tells us that the art of ploughing and sowing the land was followed, and the chief animals had been already domesticated, at an epoch so immensely remote, that the Sanskrit, Greek, Latin, Gothic, Celtic, and Sclavonic languages had not as yet diverged from their common parent-tongue. (21/69. Max Muller 'Science of Language' 1861 page 223.)

It is scarcely possible to overrate the effects of selection occasionally carried on in various ways and places during thousands of generations. All that we know, and, in a still stronger degree, all that we do not know (21/70. 'Youatt on Cattle' pages 116, 128.), of the history of the great majority of our breeds, even of our more modern breeds, agrees with the view that their production, through the action of unconscious and methodical selection, has been almost insensibly slow. When a man attends rather more closely than is usual to the breeding of his animals, he is almost sure to improve them to a slight extent. They are in consequence valued in his immediate neighbourhood, and are bred by others; and their characteristic features, whatever these may be, will then slowly but steadily be increased, sometimes by methodical and almost always by unconscious selection. At last a strain, deserving to be called a sub-variety, becomes a little more widely known, receives a local name, and spreads. The spreading will have been extremely slow during ancient and less civilised times, but now is rapid. By the time that the new breed had assumed a somewhat distinct character, its history, hardly noticed at the time, will have been completely forgotten; for, as Low remarks (21/71. 'Domesticated Animals' page 188.), "we know how quickly the memory of such events is effaced."

As soon as a new breed is thus formed, it is liable through the same process to break up into new strains and sub-varieties. For different varieties are suited for, and are valued under, different circumstances. Fashion changes, but, should a fashion last for even a moderate length of time, so strong is the principle of inheritance, that some effect will probably be impressed on the breed. Thus varieties go on increasing in number, and history shows us how wonderfully they have increased since the earliest records. (21/72. Volz 'Beitrage zur Kulturgeschichte' 1852 s. 99 et passim.) As each new variety is produced, the earlier, intermediate, and less valuable forms will be neglected, and perish. When a breed, from not being valued, is kept in small numbers, its extinction almost inevitably follows sooner or later, either from accidental causes of destruction or from close interbreeding; and this is an event which, in the case of well-marked breeds, excites attention. The birth or production of a new domestic race is so slow a process that it escapes notice; its death or destruction is comparatively sudden, is often recorded, and when too late sometimes regretted.

Several authors have drawn a wide distinction between artificial and natural races. The latter are more uniform in character, possessing in a high degree the appearance of natural species, and are of ancient origin. They are generally found in less civilised countries, and have probably been largely modified by natural selection, and only to a small extent by man's unconscious and methodical selection. They have, also, during a long period, been directly acted on by the physical conditions of the countries which they inhabit. The so-called artificial races, on the other hand, are not so uniform in character; some have a semi-monstrous character, such as "the wry-legged terriers so useful in rabbit-shooting" (21/73. Blaine 'Encyclop. of Rural Sports' page 213.), turnspit dogs, ancon sheep, niata oxen, Polish fowls, fantail-pigeons, etc.; their characteristic features have generally been acquired suddenly, though subsequently increased by careful selections in many cases. Other races, which certainly must be called artificial, for they have been largely modified by methodical selection and by crossing, as the English racehorse, terrier-dogs, the English game-cock, Antwerp carrier-pigeons, etc., nevertheless cannot be said to have an unnatural appearance; and no distinct line, as it seems to me, can be drawn between natural and artificial races.

It is not surprising that domestic races should generally present a different aspect from natural species. Man selects and propagates modifications solely for his own use or fancy, and not for the creature's own good. His attention is struck by strongly marked modifications, which have appeared suddenly, due to some great disturbing cause in the organisation. He attends almost exclusively to external characters; and when he succeeds in modifying internal organs,--when for instance he reduces the bones and offal, or loads the viscera with fat, or gives early maturity, etc.-the chances are strong that he will at the same time weaken the constitution. On the other hand, when an animal has to struggle throughout its life with many competitors and enemies, under circumstances inconceivably complex and liable to change, modifications of the most varied nature in the internal organs as well as in external characters, in the functions and mutual relations of parts, will be rigorously tested, preserved, or rejected. Natural selection often checks man's comparatively feeble and capricious attempts at improvement; and if it were not so, the result of his work, and of nature's work, would be even still more different. Nevertheless, we must not overrate the amount of difference between natural species and domestic races; the most experienced naturalists have often disputed whether the latter are descended from one or from several aboriginal stocks, and this clearly shows that there is no palpable difference between species and races.

Domestic races propagate their kind far more truly, and endure for munch longer periods, than most naturalists are willing to admit. Breeders feel no doubt on this head: ask a man who has long reared Shorthorn or Hereford cattle, Leicester or Southdown sheep, Spanish or Game poultry, tumbler or carrier-pigeons, whether these races may not have been derived from common progenitors, and he will probably laugh you to scorn. The breeder admits that he may hope to produce sheep with finer or longer wool and with better carcases, or handsomer fowls, or carrier-pigeons with beaks just perceptibly longer to the practised eye, and thus be successful at an exhibition. Thus far he will go, but no farther. He does not reflect on what follows from adding up during a long course of time many slight, successive modifications; nor does he reflect on the former existence of numerous varieties, connecting the links in each divergent line of descent. He concludes, as was shown in the earlier chapters, that all the chief breeds to which he has long attended are aboriginal productions. The systematic naturalist, on the other hand, who generally knows nothing of the art of breeding, who does not pretend to know how and when the several domestic races were formed, who cannot have seen the intermediate gradations, for they do not now exist, nevertheless feels no doubt that these races are sprung from a single source. But ask him whether the closely allied natural species which he has studied may not have descended from a common progenitor, and he in his turn will perhaps reject the notion with scorn. Thus the naturalist and breeder may mutually learn a useful lesson from each other.

SUMMARY ON SELECTION BY MAN.

There can be no doubt that methodical selection has effected and will effect wonderful results. It was occasionally practised in ancient times, and is still practised by semi-civilised people. Characters of the highest importance, and others of trifling value, have been attended to, and modified. I need not here repeat what has been so often said on the part which unconscious selection has played: we see its power in the difference between flocks which have been separately bred, and in the slow changes, as circumstances have slowly changed, which many animals have undergone in the same country, or when transported into a foreign land. We see the combined effects of methodical and unconscious selection, in the great amount of difference in those parts or qualities which are valued by man in comparison with the parts which are not valued, and consequently have not been attended to. Natural selection often determines man's power of selection. We sometimes err in imagining that characters, which are considered as unimportant by the systematic naturalist, could not be affected by the struggle for existence, and could not be acted on by natural selection; but striking cases have been given, showing how great an error this is.

The possibility of selection coming into action rests on variability; and this is mainly caused, as we shall hereafter see, by changes in the conditions of life. Selection is sometimes rendered difficult, or even impossible, by the conditions being opposed to the desired character or quality. It is sometimes checked by the lessened fertility and weakened constitution which follow from long-continued close interbreeding. That methodical selection may be successful, the closest attention and discernment, combined with unwearied patience, are absolutely necessary; and these same qualities, though not indispensable, are highly serviceable in the case of unconscious selection. It is almost necessary that a large number of individuals should be reared; for thus there will be a fair chance of variations of the desired nature arising, and of every individual with the slightest blemish or in any degree inferior being freely rejected. Hence length of time is an important element of success. Thus, also, reproduction at an early age and at short intervals favours the work. Facility in pairing animals, or their inhabiting a confined area, is advantageous as a check to free crossing. Whenever and wherever selection is not practised, distinct races are not formed within the same country. When any one part of the body or one quality is not attended to, it remains either unchanged or varies in a fluctuating manner, whilst at the same time other parts and other qualities may become permanently and greatly modified. But from the tendency to reversion and to continued variability, those parts or organs which are now undergoing rapid improvement through selection, are likewise found to vary much. Consequently highly-bred animals when neglected soon degenerate; but we have no reason to believe that the effects of long-continued selection would, if the conditions of life remained the same, be soon and completely lost.

Man always tends to go to an extreme point in the selection, whether methodical or unconscious, of all useful and pleasing qualities. This is an important principle, as it leads to continued divergence, and in some rare cases to convergence of character. The possibility of continued divergence rests on the tendency in each part or organ to go on varying in the same manner in which it has already varied; and that this occurs, is proved by the steady and gradual improvement of many animals and plants during lengthened periods. The principle of divergence of character, combined with the neglect and final extinction of all previous, less-valued, and intermediate varieties, explains the amount of difference and the distinctness of our several races. Although we may have reached the utmost limit to which certain characters can be modified, yet we are far from having reached, as we have good reason to believe, the limit in the majority of cases. Finally, from the difference between selection as carried on by man and by nature, we can understand how it is that domestic races often, though by no means always, differ in general aspect from closely allied natural species.

Throughout this chapter and elsewhere I have spoken of selection as the paramount power, yet its action absolutely depends on what we in our ignorance call spontaneous or accidental variability. Let an architect be compelled to build an edifice with uncut stones, fallen from a precipice. The shape of each fragment may be called accidental; yet the shape of each has been determined by the force of gravity, the nature of the rock, and the slope of the precipice,--events and circumstances, all of which depend on natural laws; but there is no relation between these laws and the purpose for which each fragment is used by the builder. In the same manner the variations of each creature are determined by fixed and immutable laws; but these bear no relation to the living structure which is slowly built up through the power of selection, whether this be natural or artificial selection.

If our architect succeeded in rearing a noble edifice, using the rough wedge- shaped fragments for the arches, the longer stones for the lintels, and so forth, we should admire his skill even in a higher degree than if he had used stones shaped for the purpose. So it is with selection, whether applied by man or by nature; for although variability is indispensably necessary, yet, when we look at some highly complex and excellently adapted organism, variability sinks to a quite subordinate position in importance in comparison with selection, in the same manner as the shape of each fragment used by our supposed architect is unimportant in comparison with his skill.