Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

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CHAPTER 5

Laws which regulate the geographical distribution of species – Analogy of climate not attended with identity of species – Botanical geography – Stations – Habitations – Distinct provinces of indigenous plants – Vegetation of islands – Marine vegetation – In what manner plants become diffused – Effects of wind, rivers, marine currents – Agency of animals – Many seeds pass through the stomachs of animals and birds undigested – Agency of man in the dispersion of plants, both voluntary and involuntary – Its analogy to that of the inferior animals

NEXT to determining the question whether species have a real existence, the consideration of the laws which regulate their geographical distribution is a subject of primary importance to the geologist. It is only by studying these laws with attention, by observing the position which groups of species occupy at present, and inquiring how these may be varied in the course of time by migrations, by changes in physical geography, and other causes, that we can hope to learn whether the duration of species be limited, or in what manner the state of the animate world is affected by the endless vicissitudes of the inanimate.

That different regions of the globe are inhabited by entirely distinct animals and plants is a fact which has been familiar to all naturalists since Buffon first pointed out the want of specific identity between the land quadrupeds of America and those of the Old World. The same phenomenon has, in later times, been forced, in a striking manner, upon our attention, by the examination of New Holland, where the indigenous species of animals and plants were found to be, almost without exception, distinct from those known in other parts of the world.

But the extent of this parcelling out of the globe amongst different nations, as they have been termed, of plants and animals, the universality of a phenomenon so extraordinary and unexpected, may be considered as one of the most interesting facts clearly established by the advance of modern science.

Scarcely fourteen hundred species of plants appear to have been known and described by the Greeks, Romans, and Arabians. At present, more than three thousand species are enumerated, as natives of our own island. [1] In other parts of the world there have been collected, perhaps, upwards of seventy thousand species. It was not to be supposed, therefore, that the ancients should have acquired any correct notions respecting what may be called the geography of plants, although the influence of climate on the character of the vegetation could hardly have escaped their observation.

Antecedently to investigation, there was no reason for presuming that the vegetable productions, growing wild in the eastern hemisphere, should be unlike those of the western, in the same latitude; nor that the plants of the Cape of Good Hope should be unlike those of the South of Europe; situations where the climate is little dissimilar. The contrary supposition would have seemed more probable, and we might have anticipated an almost perfect identity in the animals and plants which inhabit corresponding parallels of latitude. The discovery, therefore, that each separate region of the globe, both of the land and water, is occupied by distinct groups of species, and that most of the exceptions to this general rule may be referred to disseminating causes now in operation, is eminently calculated to excite curiosity, and to stimulate us to seek some hypothesis respecting the first introduction of species which may be reconcileable with such phenomena.

A comparison of the plants of different regions of the globe affords results more to be depended upon in the present state of our knowledge, than those relating to the animal kingdom, because the science of botany is more advanced, and probably comprehends a great proportion of the total number of the vegetable productions of the whole earth.

Humboldt, in several eloquent passages of his Personal Narrative, was among the first to promulgate philosophical views on this subject. Every hemisphere, says this traveller, produces plants of different species; and it is not by the diversity of climates that we can attempt to explain why equinoctial Africa has no laurinise, and the New World no heaths; why the calceolariae are found only in the southern hemisphere; why the birds of the continent of India glow with colours less splendid than the birds of the hot parts of America; finally, why the tiger is peculiar to Asia, and the ornithorhynchus to New Holland. [2]

"We can conceive, he adds, that a small number of the families of plants, for instance the musaceae and the palms, cannot belong to very cold regions, on account of their internal structure and the importance of certain organs; but we cannot explain why no one of the family of melastomas vegetates north of the parallel of thirty degrees; or why no rose-tree belongs to the southern hemisphere. Analogy of climates is often found in the two continents without identity of productions." [3]

The luminous essay of Decandolle on " Botanical Geography" presents us with the fruits of his own researches and those of Humboldt, Brown, and other eminent botanists, so arranged, that the principal phenomena of the distribution of plants are exhibited in connexion with the causes to which they are chiefly referrible. [4] "It might not, perhaps, be difficult," observes this writer, "to find two points, in the United States and in Europe, or in equinoctial America and Africa, which present all the same circumstances: as for example, the same temperature, the same height above the sea, a similar soil, an equal dose of humidity, yet nearly all, perhaps all, the plants in these two similar localities shall be distinct. A certain degree of analogy, indeed, of aspect, and even of structure, might very possibly be discoverable between the plants of the two localities in question, but the species would in general be different. Circumstances, therefore, different from those which now determine the stations, have had an influence on the habitations of plants."

As we shall frequently have occasion to speak of the stations and habitations of plants in the technical sense in which the terms are used in the above passage, we may remind the geological reader that station indicates the peculiar nature of the locality where each species is accustomed to grow, and has reference to climate, soil, humidity, light, elevation above the sea, and other analogous circumstances; whereas by habitation is meant a general indication of the country where a plant grows wild. Thus the station of a plant may be a salt- marsh, in a temperate climate, a hill-side, the bed of the sea, or a stagnant pool. Its habitation may be Europe, North America, or New Holland between the tropics. The study of stations has been styled the topography, that of habitations the geography of botany. The terms thus defined, express each a distinct class of ideas, which have been often confounded together, and which are equally applicable in zoology.

In further illustration of the principle above alluded to, that difference of longitude, independently of any influence of temperature, is accompanied by a great, and sometimes a complete diversity ill the species of plants, Decandolle observes, that out of two thousand eight hundred and ninety-one species of phanerogamic plants described by Pursh, in the United States, there are only three hundred and eighty-five which are found in northern or temperate Europe. MM. Humboldt and Bonpland, in all their travels through equinoctial America, found only twenty-four species (these being all cyperacea and graminea) common to America and any part of the Old World. On comparing New Holland with Europe, Mr. Brown ascertained that out of four thousand one hundred species, discovered in Australia, there were only one hundred and sixty-six common to Europe, and of this small number there were some which may have been transported thither by man. Most of the others belong to those classes which arc provided with the most ample means of dispersion to vast distances.

But it is still more remarkable, that in the more widely separated parts of the ancient continent, notwithstanding the existence of an uninterrupted land communication, the diversity in the specific character of the respective vegetations is almost as striking. Thus there is found one assemblage of species in China, another in the countries bordering the Black Sea and the Caspian, a third in those surrounding the Mediterranean, a fourth in the great platforms of Siberia and Tartary, and so forth.

The distinctness of the groups of indigenous plants, in the same parallel of latitude, is greatest where continents are disjoined by a wide expanse of ocean. In the northern hemisphere, near the Pole, where the extremities of Europe, Asia and America unite or approach near to one another, a considerable number of the same species of plants are found, common to the three continents. But it has been remarked, that these plants, which are thus so widely diffused in the Arctic regions, are also found in the chain of the Aleutian islands, which stretch almost across from America to Asia, and which may probably have served as the channel of communication for the partial blending of the Floras of the adjoining regions. It has, indeed, been found to be a general rule, that plants found at two points very remote from each other, occur also in places intermediate.

In islands very distant from continents, the total number of plants is comparatively small; but a large proportion of the species are such as occur nowhere else. In so far as the Flora of such islands is not peculiar to them, it contains, in general, species common to the nearest main lands. [5]

The islands of the great southern ocean exemplify these rules; the easternmost containing more American, and the western more Indian plants. [6] Madeira and Teneriffe contain many species, and even entire genera, peculiar to them; but they have also plants in common with Portugal, Spain, the Azores, and the north-west coast of Africa. [7]

In the Canaries, out of five hundred and thirty-three species of phanerogamous plants, it is said that three hundred and ten are peculiar to these isles, and the rest identical with those or the African continent; but in the Flora of St. Helena, which is so far distant, even from the western shores of Africa, there have been found, out of sixty-one native species, only two or three which are to be found in any other part of the globe.

Decandolle has enumerated twenty great botanical provinces inhabited by indigenous or aboriginal plants; and although many of these contain a variety of species which are common to several others, and sometimes to places very remote, yet the lines of demarcation are; upon the whole, astonishingly well defined. [8] Nor is it likely that the bearing of the evidence on which these general views are founded will ever be materially affected, since they are already confirmed by the examination of seventy or eighty thousand species of plants.

The entire change of opinion which the contemplation of these phenomena has brought about is worthy of remark. The first travellers were persuaded that they should find, in distant regions, the plants of their own country, and they took a pleasure in giving them the same names. It was some time before this illusion was dissipated; but so fully sensible did botanists at last become of the extreme smallness of the number of phrenogamous plants common to different continents, that the ancient Floras fell into disrepute. All grew diffident of the pretended identifications, and we now find that every naturalist is inclined to examine each supposed exception with scrupulous severity. [9] If they admit the fact, they begin to speculate on the mode whereby the seeds may have been transported from one country into the other, or inquire on which of two continents the plant was indigenous, assuming that a species, like an individual, cannot have two birth-places.

The marine vegetation is less known, but we learn from Lamouroux, that it is divisible into different systems, apparently as distinct as those on the land, notwithstanding that the uniformity of temperature is so much greater in the ocean. For on that ground we might have expected the phenomenon of partial distribution to have been far less striking, since climate is, in general, so influential a cause in checking the dispersion of species from one zone to another.

The number of hydrophytes, as they are termed, is very considerable, and their stations are found to be infinitely more varied than could have been anticipated; for while some plants are covered and uncovered daily by the tide, others live in abysses of the ocean, at the extraordinary depth of one thousand feet; and although in such situations there must reign darkness more profound than night, at least to our organs, many of these vegetables are highly coloured. From the analogy of terrestrial plants we should have inferred that the colouring of the algae was derived from the influence of the solar rays; yet we are compelled to doubt when we reflect how feeble must be the rays which penetrate to these great depths.

The subaqueous vegetation of the Mediterranean is, upon the whole, distinct from that of the Atlantic on the west, and that part of the Arabian gulf which is immediately contiguous on the south. Other botanical provinces are found in the West-Indian seas, including the gulf of Mexico; in the ocean which washes the shores of South America, in the Indian ocean and its gulfs, in the seas of Australia, and in the Atlantic basin, from the 40° of north lat. to the pole. There are very few species common to the coast of Europe and the United States of North America, and none common to the Straits of Magellan and the shores of Van Diemen's Land.

It must not be overlooked, that the distinctness alluded to between the vegetation of these several countries relates strictly to species and not to forms. In regard to the numerical preponderance of certain forms, and many peculiarities of internal structure, there is a marked agreement in the vegetable productions of districts placed in corresponding latitudes, and under similar physical circumstances., however remote their position. Thus there are innumerable points of analogy between the vegetation of the Brazils, equinoctial Africa, and India; and there are also points of difference wherein the plants of these regions are distinguishable from all extra-tropical groups. But there are very few species common to the three continents. The same may be said, if we compare the plants of the Straits of Magellan with those of Van Diemen's Land, or the vegetation of the United States with that of the middle of Europe: the species are distinct, but the forms are in a great degree analogous.

Let us now consider what means of diffusion, independently of the agency of man, are possessed by plants, whereby, in the course of ages, they may be enabled to stray from one of the botanical provinces above mentioned to another, and to establish new colonies at a great distance from their birth-place.

The principal of the inanimate agents, provided by nature for scattering the seeds of plants over the globe, are the movements of the atmosphere and of the ocean, and the constant flow of water from the mountains to the sea. To begin with the winds: a great number of seeds are furnished with downy and feathery appendages, enabling them, when ripe, to float in the air, and to be wafted easily to great distances by the most gentle breeze. Other plants are fitted for dispersion by means of an attached wing, as in the case of the fir-tree, so that they are caught up by the wind as they fall from the cone, and are carried to a distance. Amongst the comparatively small number of plants known to Linnaeus, no less than one hundred and thirty-eight genera are enumerated as having winged seeds.

As winds often prevail for days, weeks, or even months together, in the same direction, these means of transportation may sometimes be without limits; and even the heavier grains may be borne through considerable spaces, in a very short time, during ordinary tempests; for strong gales, which can sweep along grains of sand, often move at the rate of about forty miles an hour, and if the storm be very violent, at the rate of fifty-six miles. [10] The hurricanes of tropical regions, which root up trees and throw down buildings, sweep along at the rate of ninety miles an hour, so that, for however short a time they prevail, they may carry even the heavier fruits and seeds over friths and seas of considerable width, and, doubt-less, are often the means of introducing into islands the vegetation of adjoining continents. Whirlwinds are also instrumental in bearing along heavy vegetable substances to considerable distances. Slight ones may frequently be observed in our fields, in summer, carrying up haycocks into the air, and then letting fall small tufts of hay far and wide over the country; but they are sometimes so powerful as to dry up lakes and ponds, and to break off the boughs of trees, and carry them up in a whirling column of air.

Franklin tells us, in one of his letters, that he saw, in Maryland, a whirlwind which began by taking up the dust which lay in the road, in the form of a sugar-loaf with the pointed end downwards, and soon after grew to the height of forty or fifty feet, being twenty or thirty in diameter. It advanced in a direction contrary to the wind, and although the rotatory motion of the column was surprisingly rapid, its onward progress was sufficiently slow to allow a man to keep pace with it on foot. Franklin followed it on horseback, accompanied by his son, for three-quarters of a mile, and saw it enter a wood, where it twisted and turned round large trees with surprising force. These were carried up in a spiral line, and were seen flying in the air, together with boughs and innumerable leaves, which, from their height, appeared reduced to the apparent size of flies. As this cause operates at different intervals of time throughout a great portion of the earth's surface, it may be the means of bearing not only plants but insects, land-testacea and their eggs, with many other species of animals, to points which they could never otherwise have reached, and from which they may then begin to propagate themselves again as from a new centre.

The seeds of some aquatic fresh-water plants are of the form of shells, or small canoes, and on this account they swim on the surface, and are carried along by the wind and stream. Others are furnished with fibres, which serve the purpose of masts and sails, so that they are impelled along by the winds, even where there is no current. They cannot take root until the water stagnates, or till they reach some sheltered corner, where they may live without being exposed to too much agitation from winds and currents. [11] The above-mentioned contrivances may enable aquatic plants to diffuse themselves gradually to considerable distances wherever there is a great chain of lakes, or a river which traverses a large continent.

It has been found that a great numerical proportion of the exceptions to the limitation of species to certain quarters of the globe, occur in the various tribes of cryptogamic plants. Linnaeus observed, that as the germs of plants of this class, such as mosses, fungi, and lichens, consist of an impalpable powder, the particles of which are scarcely visible to the naked eye, there is no difficulty to account for their being dispersed throughout the atmosphere, and carried to every point of the globe, where there is a station fitted for them. Lichens in particular ascend to great elevations, sometimes growing two thousand feet above the line of perpetual snow, at the utmost limits of vegetation, and where the mean temperature is nearly at the freezing point. This elevated position must contribute greatly to facilitate the dispersion of those buoyant particles of which their fructification consists. [12]

Some have inferred, from the springing up of mushrooms whenever particular soils and decomposed organic matter are mixed together, that the production of fungi is accidental, and not analogous to that of perfect plants. [13] But Fries, whose authority on these questions is entitled to the highest respect, has shown the fallacy of this argument in favour of the old doctrine of equivocal generation. "The sporules of fungi," says this naturalist, " are so infinite, that in a single individual of Reticularia maxima, I have counted above ten millions, and so subtile as to be scarcely visible, often resembling thin smoke; so light that they may be raised perhaps by evaporation into the atmosphere, and dispersed in so many ways by the attraction of the sun, by insects, wind, elasticity, adhesion, &c., that it is difficult to conceive a place from which they may be exeluded."

In turning our attention, in the next place, to the instrumentality of the aqueous agents of dispersion, we cannot do better than cite the words of one of our ablest botanical writers. "The mountain-stream or torrent," observes Keith, " washes down to the valley the seeds which may accidentally fall into it, or which it may happen to sweep from its banks when it suddenly overflows them. The broad and majestic river, winding along the extensive plain, and traversing the continents of the world, conveys to the distance of many hundreds of miles the seeds that may have vegetated at its source. Thus the southern shores of the Baltic are visited by seeds which grew in the interior of Germany; and the western shores of the Atlantic by seeds that have been generated in the interior of America." [14] Fruits, moreover, indigenous to America and the West Indies, such as that of the Mimosa scandens, the cashew-nut, and others, have been known to be drifted across the Atlantic by the Gulf-stream, on the western coasts of Europe, in such a state that they might have vegetated had the climate and soil been favourable. Among these the Guilandina Bonduc, a leguminous plant, is particularly mentioned, as having been raised from a seed found on the west coast of Ireland. [15] Sir Hans Sloane informs us that the lenticula marina, or sargasso, a bean which is frequently cast ashore on the Orkney isles, and coast of Ireland, grows on the rocks about Jamaica, where the surface of the sea is sometimes strewed with it, and from whence it is known to be carried by the winds and currents towards the coast of Florida. [16]

The absence of liquid matter in the composition of seeds renders them comparatively insensible to heat and cold, so that they may be carried, without detriment, through climates where the plants themselves would instantly perish. Such is their power of resisting the effects of heat, that Spallanzani mentions some seeds that germinated after having been boiled in water. [17] When, therefore, a strong gale, after blowing violently off the land for a time, dies away, and the seeds alight upon the surface of the waters, or wherever the ocean, by eating away the sea-cliffs, throws down into its waves plants which would never otherwise approach the shores, the tides and currents become active instruments in assisting the dissemination of almost all classes of the vegetable kingdom.

In a collection of six hundred plants from the neighbourhood of the river Zaire, in Africa, Mr. Brown found that thirteen species were also met with on the opposite shores of Guiana and Brazil. He remarked, that most of these plants were only found on the lower parts of the river Zaire, and were chiefly such as produced seeds capable of retaining their vitality a long time in the currents of the ocean.

Islands, moreover, and even the smallest rocks, play an important part in aiding such migrations, for when seeds alight upon them from the atmosphere, or are thrown up by the surf, they often vegetate and supply the winds and waves with a repetition of new and uninjured crops of fruits and seeds, which may afterwards pursue their course through the atmosphere, or along the surface of the sea, in the same direction. The number of plants found at any given time on an islet affords no test whatever of the extent to which it may have co-operated towards this end, since a variety of species may first thrive there and then perish, and be followed by other chance-comers like themselves.

Currents and winds, in the arctic regions, drift along ice- bergs covered with an alluvial soil on which herbs and pine saplings are seen growing, which often continue to vegetate on some distant shore where the ice-island is stranded.

With respect to marine vegetation, the seeds being in their native element, may remain immersed in water without injury for indefinite periods, so that there is no difficulty in conceiving the diffusion of species wherever uncongenial climates, contrary currents, and other causes, do not interfere. All are familiar with the sight of the floating sea-weed

"Flung from the rock on ocean's foam to sail,
Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail."


Remarkable accumulations of drift weed occur on each side of the equator in the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian Oceans. Columbus and other navigators who first encountered these banks of algae in the Northern Atlantic, compared them to vast inundated meadows, and state that they retarded the progress of their vessels. The most extensive bank is a little west of the meridian of Fayal, one of the Azores, between latitude 25° and 36°; violent north winds sometimes prevail in this space, and drive the sea-weed to low latitudes, as far as the 24th or even the 20th degree. [18]

The hollow pod-like receptacles in which the seeds of many algae are lodged, and the filaments attached to the seed-vessels of others, seem intended to give buoyancy, and we may observe that these hydrophytes are in general proliferous, so that the smallest fragment of a branch can be developed into a perfect plant, The seeds, moreover, of the greater number of species are enveloped with a mucous matter like that which surrounds the eggs of some fish, and which not only protects them from injury, but serves to attach them to floating bodies or to rocks.

But we have as yet considered part only of the fertile resources of nature for conveying seeds to a distance from their place of growth. The various tribes of animals are busily engaged in furthering an object whence they derive such important advantages. Sometimes an express provision is found in the structure of seeds to enable them to adhere firmly by prickles, hooks, and hairs, to the coats of animals, or feathers of the winged tribe, to which they remain attached for weeks, or even months, and are borne along into every region whither birds or quadrupeds may migrate. Linnaeus enumerates fifty genera of plants, and the number now known to botanists is much greater, which are armed with hooks by which, when ripe, they adhere to the cants of animals. Most of these vegetables, he remarks, require a soil enriched with dung. Few have failed to mark the locks of wool hanging on the thorn-bushes, wherever the sheep pass, and it is probable that the wolf or lion never give chace to herbivorous animals with. out being unconsciously subservient to this part of the vegetable economy.

A deer has strayed from the herd, when browsing on some rich pasture, when he is suddenly alarmed by the approach of his foe. He instantly plunges through many a thicket, and swims through many a river and lake. The seeds of the herbs and shrubs adhere to his smoking flanks, and are washed oft' again by the streams. The thorny spray is torn off and fixes itself in his hairy coat, until brushed off again in other thickets and copses. Even on the spot where the victim is devoured, many of the seeds which he had swallowed immediately before the pursuit may be left on the ground uninjured.

The passage, indeed, of undigested seeds through the stomachs of animals is one of the most efficient causes of the dissemination of plants, and is of all others, perhaps, the most likely to be overlooked. Few are ignorant that a portion of the oats eaten by a horse preserve their germinating faculty in the dung. The fact of their being still nutritious is not lost on the sagacious rook. To many, says Linnaeus, it seems extraordinary, and something of a prodigy, that when a field is well tilled and sown with the best wheat, it frequently produces darnel or the wild oat, especially if it be manured with new dung: they do not consider that the fertility of the smaller seeds is not destroyed in the ventricles of animals. [19]

Some of the order of the Passeres, says Ekmarck, [20] devour the seeds of plants in great quantities, which they eject again in very distant places, without destroying its faculty of vegetation; thus a flight of larks will fill the cleanest field with a great quantity of various kinds of plants, as the melilot trefoil (Medicago lupulina), and others whose seeds are so heavy that the wind is not able to scatter them to any distance. In like manner, the blackbird and missel-thrush, when they devour berries in too great quantities, are known to consign them to the earth undigested in their excrement. [21]

Pulpy fruits serve quadrupeds and birds as food, while their seeds, often hard and indigestible, pass uninjured through the intestines, and are deposited far from their original place of growth in a condition peculiarly fit for vegetation. [22] So well are our farmers, in some parts of England, aware of this fact, that when they desire to raise a quick-set hedge in the shortest possible time, they feed turkeys with the haws of the common white-thorn (Crataegus oxyacantha) , and then sow the stones which are ejected in their excrement, whereby they gain an entire year in the growth of the plant. [23] Birds when they pluck cherries, sloes, and haws, flyaway with them to some convenient place, and when they have devoured the fruit drop the stone into the ground. Captain Cook, in his account of the volcanic island of Tanna, one of the New Hebrides, which he visited ill his second voyage, makes the following interesting observation. "Mr. Forster, in his botanical excursion this day, shot a pigeon, in the craw of which was a wild nutmeg. He took some pains to find the tree on this island, but his endeavours were without success." [24] It is easy, therefore, to perceive, that birds in their migrations to great distances, and even across seas, may transport seeds to new isles and continents.

The sudden deaths to which great numbers of frugivorous birds are annually exposed, must not be omitted as auxiliary to the transportation of seeds to new habitations. When the sea retires from the shore, and leaves fruits and seeds on the beach, or in the mud of estuaries, it might, by the returning tide, wash them away again, or destroy them by long immersion; but when they are gathered by land birds which frequent the sea-side, or by waders and water-fowl, they are often borne inland, and if the bird to whose crop they have been consigned is killed, they may be left to grow up far from the sea. Let such an accident happen but once in a century, or a thousand years, it will be sufficient to spread many of the plants from one continent to another; for, in estimating the activity of these causes, we must not consider whether they act slowly in relation to the period of our observation, but in reference to the duration of species in general.

Let us trace the operation of this cause in connexion with others. A tempestuous wind bears the seeds of a plant many miles through the air, and then delivers them to the ocean; the oceanic current drifts them to a distant continent; by the fall of the tide they become the food of numerous birds, and one of these is seized by a hawk or eagle, which, soaring across hill and dale to a place of retreat, leaves, after devouring its prey, the unpalatable seeds to spring up and flourish in a new soil.

The machinery before adverted to is so capable of disseminating seeds over almost unbounded spaces, that were we more intimately acquainted with the economy of nature, we might probably explain all the instances which occur of the aberration of plants to great distances from their native countries. The real difficulty which must present itself to every one who contemplates the present geographical distribution of species, is the small number of exceptions to the rule of the non-intermixture of different groups of plants. Why have they not, supposing them to have been ever so distinct originally, become more blended and confounded together in the lapse of ages?

But in addition to all the agents already enumerated as instrumental in diffusing plants over the globe, we have still to consider man-one of the most important of all. He transports with him, into every region, the vegetables which he cultivates for his wants, and is the involuntary means of spreading a still greater number which are useless to him, or even noxious. "When the introduction of cultivated plants is of recent date, there is no difficulty in tracing their origin; but when it is of high antiquity, we are often ignorant of the true country of the plants on which we feed. No one contests the American origin of the maize or the potato, nor the origin, in the old world, of the coffee-tree and of wheat. But there are certain objects of culture, of very ancient date, between the tropics, such, for example, as the banana, of which the origin cannot be verified. Armies, in modern times, have been known to carry, ill all directions, grain and cultivated vegetables from one extremity of Europe to the other, and thus have shown us how, in more ancient times, the conquests of Alexander, the distant expeditions of the Romans, and afterwards the Crusades, may have transported many plants from one part of the world to the other." [25]

But besides the plants used in agriculture, the number which have been naturalized by accident, or which man has spread unintentionally, is considerable. One of our old authors, Josselyn, gives a catalogue of such plants as had, in his time, sprung up in the colony since the English planted and kept cattle in New England. They were two and twenty in number. The common nettle was the first which the settlers noticed, and the plantain was called by the Indians, "English man's foot," as if it sprung from their footsteps. [26]

"We have introduced everywhere," observes Decandolle, some weeds which grow among our various kinds of wheat, and which have been received, perhaps, originally from Asia with them. Thus, together with the Barbary wheat, the inhabitants of the south of Europe have sown, for many ages, the plants of Algiers and Tunis. With the wools and cottons of the East, or of Barbary, there are often brought into France, the grains of exotic plants, some of which naturalize themselves. Of this I will cite a striking example. There is at the gate of Montpelier, a meadow set apart for drying foreign wool after it has been washed. There hardly passes a year without some foreign plants being found naturalized in this drying ground. I have gathered there Centaurea parviflora, Psoralea palaestina, and Hypericum crispum." This fact is not only illustrative of the aid which man lends inadvertently to the propagation of plants, but it also demonstrates the multiplicity of seeds which are borne about in the woolly and hairy coats of wild animals.

The same botanist mentions instances of plants naturalized in sea-ports by the ballast of ships, and several examples of others which have spread through Europe from botanical gardens, so as to have become more common than many indigenous species.

It is scarcely a century, says Linnaeus, [27] since the Canadian erigiron, or flea-bane, was brought from America to the botanical garden at Paris, and already the seeds have been carried by the winds, so that it is diffused over France, the British islands, Italy, Sicily, Holland, and Germany. Several others are mentioned by the Swedish naturalist, as having been dispersed by similar means. The common thorn-apple, Datura stramonium, observes Willdenow, now grows as a noxious weed throughout all Europe, with the exception of Sweden, Lapland, and Russia. It came from the East Indies and Abyssinia to us, and was so universally spread by certain quacks who used its seed as an emetic. [28]

In hot and ill-cultivated countries, such naturalizations take place more easily. Thus the Chenopodium ambrosioides, sown by Mr. Burchell on a point of St. Helena, multiplied so in four years as to become one of the commonest weeds in the island. [29]

The most remarkable proof, says Decandolle, of the extent to which man is unconsciously the instrument of dispersing and naturalizing species, is found in the fact, that in New Holland, America, and the Cape of Good Hope, the aboriginal European species exceed in number all the others which have come from any distant regions, so that, in this instance, the influence of man has surpassed that of all the other causes which tend to disseminate plants to remote districts.

Although we are but slightly acquainted, as yet, with the extent of our instrumentality in naturalizing species, yet the facts ascertained afford no small reason to suspect that the number which we introduce unintentionally, exceeds all those transported by design. Nor is it unnatural to suppose that the functions, which the inferior beings extirpated by man once discharged in the economy of nature, should devolve upon the human race. If we drive many birds of passage from different countries, we are probably required to fulfil their office of carrying seeds, eggs of fish, insects, molluscs, and other creatures, to distant regions; if we destroy quadrupeds, we must replace them, not merely as consumers of the animal and vegetable substances which they devoured, but as disseminators of plants, and of the inferior classes of the animal kingdom. We do not mean to insinuate that the same changes which man brings about, would have taken place by means of the agency of other species, but merely that he supersedes a certain number of agents, and so far as he disperses plants unintentionally, or against his will, his intervention is strictly analogous to that of the species so extirpated.

We may observe, moreover, that if, at former periods, the animals inhabiting any given district have been partially altered by the extinction of some species, and the introduction of others, whether by new creations or by immigration, a change must have taken place in regard to the particular plants conveyed about with them to foreign countries. As for example, when one set of migratory birds is substituted for another, the countries from and to which seeds are transported are immediately changed. Vicissitudes, therefore, analogous to those which man has occasioned, may have previously attended the springing up of new relations between species in the vegetable and animal worlds.

It may also be remarked, that if man is the most active agent in enlarging, so also is he in circumscribing the geographical boundaries of particular plants. He promotes the migration of some, he retards that of other species, so that while in many respects he appears to be exerting his power to blend and confound the various provinces of indigenous species, he is, in other ways, instrumental in obstructing the fusion into one group of the inhabitants of contiguous provinces.

Thus, for example, when two botanical regions exist in the same great continent, such as the European region, comprehending the central parts of Europe and those surrounding the Mediterranean, and the Oriental region, as it has been termed, embracing the countries adjoining the Black Sea and the Caspian, the interposition between these of thousands of squares miles of cultivated lands, opposes a new and powerful barrier against the mutual interchange of indigenous plants. Botanists are well aware that garden plants naturalize and diffuse themselves with great facility in comparatively unreclaimed countries, but spread themselves slowly and with difficulty in districts highly cultivated. There are many obvious causes for this difference; by drainage and culture the natural variety of stations is diminished, and those stray individuals by which the passage of a species from one fit station to another is effected, are no sooner detected by the agriculturist, than they are uprooted as weeds. The larger shrubs and trees, in particular, can scarcely ever escape observation, when they have attained a certain size, and will rarely fail to be cut down if unprofitable.

The same observations are applicable to the interchange of the insects, birds, and quadrupeds of two regions situated like those above alluded to. No beasts of prey are permitted to make their way across the intervening arable tracts. Many birds, and hundreds of insects, which would have found some palatable food amongst the various herbs and trees of the primeval wilderness, are unable to subsist on the olive, the vine, the wheat, and a few trees and grasses favoured by man. In addition, therefore, to his direct intervention, man, in this case, operates indirectly to impede the dissemination of plants, by intercepting the migrations of animals, many of which would otherwise have been active in transporting seeds from one province to another.

Whether in the vegetable kingdom the influence of man will tend, after a considerable lapse of ages, to render the geographical range of species in general more extended, as Decandolle seems to anticipate, or whether the compensating agency above alluded to will not counterbalance the exceptions caused by our naturalizations, admits at least of some doubt. In the attempt to form an estimate on this subject, we must be careful not to underrate, or almost overlook, as some appear to have done, the influence of man in checking the diffusion of plants, and restricting their distribution to narrower limits.

_______________

Notes:

1. Barton's Lectures on the Geography of Plants, p. 2.

2. Pers. Narr., vol. v. p. 180.

3. Ibid.

4. Essai Elementaire de Geographie Botanique. Extrait du 18e vol, du Dict. des Sci. Nat.

5. Prichard, vol. i. p. 36. Brown, Appendix to Flinders.

6. Forster, Observations, &c.

7. Humboldt, Pers. Narr., vol. i. p. 270 of the translation. Prichard, Phys. Hist. of Mankind, vol. i. p. 37.

8. See a farther subdivision by which twenty-seven provinces are made, by M. Alph. Decandolle, son of Decandolle. Monogr. des Campanulees. Paris, 1830.

9. Decandolle, Essai Elemen. de Geog. Botan. p. 45.

10. Annuaire du Bureau des Longitudes.

11. Rev. Dr. Rennie, Essays on the Nat. Hist. of Peat Moss, p. 248.

12. Linn., Tour in Lapland, vol. ii. p. 282.

13. Lindlev. Introd. to Nat; Svst. of Botany who cites Fries.

14. System of Physiological Botany, vol. ii. p. 405.

15. Brown. Append. to Tuckev. No. V. p. 481.

16. Phil. Trans. 1696.

17. System of Philosophical Botany, vol. ii. p. 403.

18. Greville, Introduction to Algae Britannicae, p. 12.

19. Linnaeus, Amoen. Acad., vol. ii. p. 409.

20. Amoon. Acad., vol. iv., Essay 75, § 8.

21. Wilcke, Amoen. Acad., vol. vi. § 22.

22. Smith's Introd. to Phys. and Syst. Botany, p. 304, 1807.

23. This information was communicated to me by Professor Henslow, of Cambridge.

24. Book iii., ch. 4.

25. Decandolle, Essai Elemen. &c. p. 50.

26. Quarterly Review, vol. xxx., p. 8.

27. Essay on the Habitable Earth, Amoen. Acad. vol. ii. p. 409.

28. Principles of Botany, p. 389.

29. Principles of Botany, p. 389.
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Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

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CHAPTER 6

Geographical distribution of Animals – Buffon on the specific distinctness of the quadrupeds of the old and new world – Different regions of indigenous mammalia – Quadrupeds in islands – Range of the Cetacea – Dissemination of quadrupeds – Their powers of swimming – Migratory instincts – Drifting of quadrupeds on ice-floes – On floating islands of drift-timber – Migrations of Cetacea – Habitations of Birds – Their migrations and facilities of diffusion – Distribution of Reptiles and their powers of dissemination

ALTHOUGH in speculating on "philosophical possibilities," said Buffon, the same temperature might have been expected, all other circumstances being equal, to produce the same beings in different parts of the globe, both in the animal and vegetable kingdoms, yet it is an undoubted fact., that when America was discovered, its indigenous quadrupeds were all dissimilar from those previously known in the old world. The elephant, the rhinoceros, the hippopotamus, the cameleopard, the camel, the dromedary, the buffalo, the horse, the ass, the lion, the tiger, the apes, the baboons, and a number of other mammalia, where nowhere to be met with on the new continent; while in the old, the American species, of the same great class, were nowhere to be seen-the tapir, the lama, the pecari, the jaguar, the couguar, the agouti, the paca, the coati, and the sloth.

These phenomena, although few in number relatively to the whole animate creation, were so striking and so positive in their nature, that the French naturalist caught sight at once of a general law in the geographical distribution of organic beings, namely, the limitation of groups of distinct species to regions separated from the rest of the globe by certain natural barriers. It was, therefore, in a truly philosophical spirit that, relying on the clearness of the evidence obtained respecting the larger quadrupeds, he ventured to call in question the identifications announced by some contemporary naturalists, of species of animals said to be common to the southern extremities of America and Africa. [1]

The migration of quadrupeds from one part of the globe to the other, observes one of our ablest writers, is prevented by uncongenial climates and the branches of the ocean which intersect continents. "Hence by a reference to the geographical site of countries, we may divide the earth into a certain number of regions fitted to become the abodes of particular groups of animals, and we shall find, on inquiry, that each of these provinces, thus conjecturally marked out, is actually inhabited by a distinct nation of quadrupeds." [2]

Where the continents of the old and new world approximate to each other towards the north, the narrow straits which separate them are frozen over in winter, and the distance is further lessened by intervening islands. Thus a passage from one continent to another becomes practicable to such quadrupeds as are fitted to endure the intense cold of the arctic circle. Accordingly, the whole arctic region has become one of the provinces of the animal kingdom, and contains many species common to both the great continents. But the temperate regions of America, which are separated by a wide extent of ocean from those of Europe and Asia, contain each a distinct nation of indigenous quadrupeds. There are three groups of tropical mammalia belonging severally to America, Africa, and continental India, each inhabiting lands separated from each other by the ocean.

In Peru and Chili, says Humboldt, the region of the grasses, which is at an elevation of from twelve thousand three hundred to fifteen thousand four hundred feet, is inhabited by crowds of lama, guanaco, and alpaca. These quadrupeds, which here represent the genus camel of the ancient continent, have not extended themselves either to Brazil or Mexico, because, during their journey, they must necessarily have descended into regions that were too hot for them. [3]

New Holland is well known to contain a most singular and characteristic assemblage of mammiferous animals, consisting of more than forty species of the marsupial family, of which no congeners even occur elsewhere, with the exception of a few American opossums. This exclusive occupation of the Australian continent by the kangaroos and other tribes of pouched animals, although it has justly excited great attention, is a fact, nevertheless, in strict accordance with the general laws of the distribution of species; since, in other parts of the globe, we find peculiarities of form, structure, and habit, in birds, reptiles, insects, or plants, confined entirely to one hemisphere, or one continent, and sometimes to much narrower limits.

The southern region of Africa, where that continent extends into the temperate zone, constitutes another separate zoological province, surrounded as it is on three sides by the ocean, and cut off from the countries of milder climate, in the northern hemisphere, by the intervening torrid zone. In many instances, this region contains the same genera which are found in temperate climates to the northward of the line; but then the southern are different from the northern species. Thus in the south we find the quagga and the zebra: in the north, the horse, the ass, and the jiggetai of Asia.

The south of Africa is spread out into fine level plains from the tropic to the Cape; in this region, says Pennant, besides the horse genus, of which five species have been found, there are also peculiar species of rhinoceros, the hog, and the hyrax, among pachydermatous races; and amongst the ruminating, the giraffe, the Cape buffalo, and a variety of remarkable antelopes, as the springbok, the oryx, the gnou, the leucophoe, the pygarga, and several others. [4]

The Indian archipelago presents peculiar phenomena in regard to its indigenous mammalia, which, in their generic character, recede in some respects from that of the animals of the Indian continent, and approximate to the African. The Sunda isles contain a hippopotamus, which is wanting in the rivers of Asia; Sumatra, a peculiar species of tapir, and a rhinoceros resembling the African more than the Indian species, but specifically distinguishable from both. [5]

Beyond the Indian archipelago is an extensive region, including New Guinea, New Britain, and New Ireland, together with the archipelago of Solomon's islands, the New Hebrides, and Louisiade, and the more remote groups of isles in the great southern ocean, which may be considered as forming one zoological province. Although these remarkable countries are extremely fertile in their vegetable productions, they are almost wholly destitute of native warm-blooded quadrupeds, except a few species of bats, and some domesticated animals in the possession of the natives. [6]

Quadrupeds found on islands situated near the continents, generally form a part of the stock of animals belonging to the adjacent main land; "but small islands remote from continents are in general altogether destitute of land quadrupeds, except such as appear to have been conveyed to them by men. Kerguelen's Land, Juan Fernandez, the Gallapagos, and the Isles de Lobos, are examples of this fact. Among all the groups of fertile islands in the Pacific ocean, no quadrupeds have been found, except dogs, hogs, rats, and a few bats. The bats have been found in New Zealand and the more westerly groups; they may probably have made their way along the chain of islands which extend from the shores of New Guinea far into the southern Pacific. The hogs and the dogs appear to have been conveyed by the natives from New Guinea. The Indian isles, near New Guinea, abound in oxen, buffaloes, goats, deer, hogs, dogs, cats, and rats; but none of them are said to have reached New Guinea, except the hog and the dog. The New Guinea hog is of the Chinese variety, and was probably brought from some of the neighbouring isles, being the animal most in request among savages. It has run wild in New Guinea. Thence it has been conveyed to the New Hebrides, the Tonga and Society isles, and to the Marquesas; but it is still wanting in the more easterly islands, and, to the southward, in New Caledonia.

"Dogs may be traced from New Guinea to the New Hebrides and Fiji isles; but they are wanting in the Tonga isles, though found among the Society and Sandwich islanders, by some of whom they are used for food: to the southward they have been conveyed to New Caledonia and New Zealand. In Easter Island, the most remotely situated in this ocean, there are no domestic animals except fowls and rats, which are eaten by the natives: these animals are found in most of the islands; the fowls are probably from New Guinea. Rats are to be found even on some desert islands, whither they may have been conveyed by canoes which have occasionally approached the shores. It is known, also, that rats occasionally swim in large numbers to considerable distances." [7]

It is natural to suppose that the geographical range of the different species of cetacea should be less correctly ascertained than that of the terrestrial mammifers. It is, however, well known, that the whales which are obtained by our fishers in the South Seas, are distinct from those of the North; and the same dissimilarity has been found in all the other marine animals of the same class, so far as they have yet been studied by naturalists.

Let us now inquire what facilities the various land quadrupeds enjoy of spreading themselves over the surface of the earth. In the first place, as their numbers multiply, all of them, whether they feed on plants, or prey on other animals, are disposed to scatter themselves gradually over as wide an area as is accessible to them. But before they have extended their migrations over a large space, they are usually arrested either by the sea, or a zone of uncongenial climate, or some lofty and unbroken chain of mountains, or a tract already occupied by a hostile and more powerful species.

Rivers and narrow friths can seldom interfere with their progress, for the greater part of them swim well, and few are without this power when urged by danger and pressing want. Thus, amongst beasts of prey, the tiger is seen swimming about among the islands and creeks in the delta of the Ganges, and the jaguar traverses with ease the largest streams in South America. [8] The bear, also, and the bison, stem the current of the Mississippi. The popular error, that the common swine cannot escape by swimming when thrown into the water, has been contradicted by several curious and well-authenticated instances during the recent floods in Scotland. One pig, only six months old, after having been carried down from Garmouth to the bar at the mouth of the Spey, a distance of a quarter of a mile, swam four miles eastward to Port Gordon and landed safe. Three others, of the same age and litter, swam at the same time five miles to the west, and landed at Blackhill. [9]

In an adult and wild state, these animals would doubtless have been more strong and active, and might, when hard pressed, have performed a much longer voyage. Hence islands remote from the continent may obtain inhabitants by casualties which, like the late storms in Morayshire, may only occur once in many centuries, or thousands of years, under all the same circumstances. It is obvious that powerful tides, winds, and currents, may sometimes carry along quadrupeds capable, in like manner, of preserving themselves for hours in the sea to very considerable distances, and in this way, perhaps, the tapir (Tapir Indicus) may have become common to Sumatra and the Malayan peninsula.

To the elephant in particular, the power of crossing rivers is essential in a wild state, for the quantity of food which a herd of these animals consumes renders it necessary that they should be constantly moving from place to place. The elephant crosses the stream in two ways. If the bed of the river be hard, and the water not of too great a depth, he fords it. But when he crosses great rivers, such as the Ganges and the Niger, the elephant swims deep, so deep that the end of his trunk only is out of the water; [10] for it is a matter of indifference to him whether his body be completely immersed, provided he can bring the tip of his trunk to the surface, so as to breathe the external air.

Animals of the deer kind frequently take to the water, especially in the rutting season, when the stags are seen swimming for several leagues at a time, from island to island, in search of the does, especially in the Canadian lakes; and in some countries where there are islands near the sea-shore, they fearlessly enter the sea and swim to them. In hunting excursions, in North America, the elk of that country is frequently pursued for great distances through the water.

The large herbivorous animals, which are gregarious, can never remain long in a confined region, as they consume so much vegetable food. The immense herds of bisons which often, in the great valley of the Mississippi, blacken the surface near the banks of that river and its tributaries, are continually shifting their quarters, followed by wolves which prowl about in their rear. "It is no exaggeration," says Mr. James, " to assert, that in one place, on the banks of the Platte, at least ten thousand bisons burst on our sight in an instant. In the morning we again sought the living picture, but upon all the plain, which last evening was so teeming with noble animals, not one remained." [11]

Besides the disposition common to the individuals of every species slowly to extend their range in search of food, in proportion as their numbers augment, a migratory instinct often develops itself in an extraordinary manner, when, after an unusually prolific season, or upon a sudden scarcity of provisions, great multitudes are threatened by famine. We shall enumerate several illustrations of these migrations, because they may put us upon our guard against attributing a high antiquity to a particular species merely because it is diffused over a great space; they show clearly how soon, in a state of nature, a newly-created species might spread itself, in every direction, from a single point.

In very severe winters, great numbers of the black bears of America migrate from Canada into the United States; but in milder seasons, when they have been well fed, they remain and hybernate in the north. [12] The rein-deer, which in Scandinavia can scarcely exist to the south of the sixty-fifth parallel, descends, in consequence of the greater coldness of the climate, to the fiftieth degree, in Chinese Tartary, and often roves into a country of more southern latitude than any part of England.

In Lapland, and other high latitudes, the common squirrels, whenever they are compelled, by want of provisions, to quit their usual abodes, migrate in amazing numbers, and travel directly forwards, allowing neither rocks, forests, nor the broadest waters, to turn them from their course. Great num. bers are often drowned in attempting to pass friths and rivers. In like manner the small Norway rat sometimes pursues its migrations in a straight line across rivers and lakes; and Pennant informs us, that when, in Kamtschatka, the rats become too numerous, they gather together in the spring, and proceed in great bodies westward, swimming over rivers, lakes, and arms of the sea. Many are drowned or destroyed by waterfowl or fish. As soon as they have crossed the river Penchim, at the head of the gulf of the same name, they turn southward, and reach the rivers Judoma and Ochot by the middle of July, a district surprisingly distant from their point of departure.

The lemings, also, of Scandinavia, often pour down in myriads from the northern mountains and devastate the country. They generally move in lines which are about three feet from each other, and exactly parallel, and they direct their march from the north-west to the south-east, going directly forward through rivers and lakes, and when they meet with stacks of hay or corn, gnawing their way through them instead of passing round. [13]

Vast troops of the wild ass, or onager of the ancients, which inhabit the mountainous deserts of Great Tartary, feed, during the summer, in the tracts east and north of Lake Aral. In the autumn they collect in herds of hundreds, and even thousands, and direct their course towards the north of India, and often to Persia, to enjoy a warm retreat during winter. [14] Bands of two or three hundred quaggas, a species of wild ass, are sometimes seen to migrate from the tropical plains of southern Africa to the vicinity of the Malaleveen river. During their migrations they are followed by lions, who slaughter them night by night. [15]

The migratory swarms of the springbok, or Cape antelope, afford another illustration of the rapidity with which a species, under certain circumstances, may be diffused over a continent. When the stagnant pools of the immense deserts south of the Orange river dry up, which often happens after intervals of three or four years, myriads of these animals desert the parched soil, and pour down like a deluge on the cultivated regions nearer the Cape. The havoc committed by them resembles that of the African locusts; and so crowded are the herds, that "the lion has been seen to walk in the midst of the compressed phalanx with only as much room between him and his victims as the fears of those immediately around could procure by pressing outwards." [16]

Dr. Horsfield mentions a singular fact in regard to the geographical distribution of the Mydaus meliceps, a kind of polecat inhabiting Java. This animal is "confined exclusively to those mountains which have an elevation of more than seven thousand feet above the level of the ocean: on these it occurs with the same regularity as many plants. The long-extended surface of Java, abounding with conical points which exceed this elevation, affords many places favourable for its resort. On ascending these mountains, the traveller scarcely fails to meet with this animal, which, from its peculiarities, is universally known to the inhabitants of these elevated tracts, while to those of the plains it is as strange as an animal from a foreign country. In my visits to the mountainous districts, I uniformly met with it, and, as far as the information of the natives can be relied on, it is found on all the mountains." [17]

Now, if we were asked to conjecture how the Mydaus arrived at the elevated regions of each of these isolated mountains, we should say that before the isle was peopled by man, by whom their numbers are now thinned, they may occasionally have multiplied so as to be forced to collect together and migrate; in which case, notwithstanding the slowness of their motions, some few would succeed in reaching another mountain, some twenty, or even, perhaps, fifty miles distant: for although the climate of the hot intervening plains would be unfavourable to them, they might support it for a time, and would find there abundance of insects on which they feed. Volcanic eruptions, which at different times have covered the summits of some of these lofty cones with steril sand and ashes, may have occasionally contributed to force on these migrations.

The power of the terrestrial mammalia to cross the sea is very limited, and we have already stated that the same species is scarcely ever common to districts widely separated by the ocean. If there be some exceptions to this rule they generally admit of explanation, for there are natural means whereby some animals may be floated across the water, and the sea sometimes wears a passage through a neck of land, leaving individuals of a species on each side of the new channel. Polar bears are known to have been frequently drifted on the ice from Greenland to Iceland; they can also swim to considerable distances, for Captain Parry, on the return of his ships through Barrow's Strait, met with a bear swimming in the water about midway between the shores, which were about forty miles apart, and where no ice was in sight. [18] "Near the east coast of Greenland," observes Scoresby, "they have been seen on the ice in such quantities, that they were compared to flocks of sheep on a common-and they are often found on field-ice, above two hundred miles from the shore." [19] Wolves, in the arctic regions, often venture upon the ice near the shore, for the purpose of preying upon young seals which they surprise when asleep. When these ice-floes get detached, the wolves are often carried out to sea, and though some may be drifted to islands or continents, the greater part of them perish, and have been often heard in this situation howling dreadfully, as they die by famine. [20]

During the short summer which visits Melville Island, various plants push forth their leaves and flowers the moment the snow is off the ground, and form a carpet spangled with the most lively colours. These secluded spots are reached annually by herds of musk-oxen and rein-deer, which travel immense distances over dreary and desolate regions, to graze undisturbed on these luxuriant pastures. [21] The rein-deer often pass along in the same manner, by the chain of the Aleutian Islands, from Behring's Straits to Kamtschatka, subsisting on the moss found in these islands during their passage. [22]

Within the tropics there are no ice-floes; but, as if to compensate for that mode of transportation, there are floating isles of matted trees, which are often borne along through considerable spaces. These are sometimes seen sailing at the distance of fifty or one hundred miles from the mouth of the Ganges, with living trees standing erect upon them. The Amazon, the Congo, and the Orinoco, also produce these verdant rafts, which are formed in the manner already described when speaking of the great raft of the Atchafalaya, an arm of the Mississippi, where a natural bridge of timber, ten miles long, and more than two hundred yards wide, has existed for more than forty years, supporting a luxurious vegetation, and rising and sinking with the water which flows beneath it. [23] That this enormous mass will one day break up and send down a multitude of floating islands to the gulf of Mexico, is the hope and well-founded expectation of the inhabitants of Louisiana.

On these green isles of the Mississippi, observes Malte-Brun, [24] young trees take root, and the pisliar and nenuphar display their yellow flowers; there serpents, birds, and the cayman alligator, come to repose, and all are sometimes carried to the sea, and engulphed in its waters.

In a memoir lately published, a naval officer informs us, that as he returned from China by the eastern passage, he fell in, among the Moluccas, with several small floating islands of this kind, covered with mangrove-trees interwoven with underwood. The trees and shrubs retained their verdure, receiving nourishment from a stratum of soil which formed a white beach round the margin of each raft, where it was exposed to the washing of the waves and the rays of the sun. [25] The occurrence of soil in such situations may easily be explained, for all the natural bridges of timber which occasionally connect the islands of the Ganges, Mississippi, and other rivers, with their banks, are exposed to floods of water, densely charged with sediment.

Captain W. H. Smyth informs me, that when cruizing in the Cornwallis amidst the Philippine Islands, he has more than once seen, after those dreadful hurricanes called typhoons, floating islands of wood, with trees growing upon them, and that ships have sometimes been in imminent peril, in consequence of mistaking them for terra-firma.

It is highly interesting to trace, in imagination, the effects of the passage of these rafts from the mouth of a large river to some archipelago, such as those in the South Pacific, raised from the deep, in comparatively modern times, by the operations of the volcano and the earthquake, and the joint labours of coral animals and testacea. If a storm arise, and the frail vessel be wrecked, still many a bird and insect may succeed in gaining, by flight, some island of the newly-formed group, while the seeds and berries of herbs and shrubs, which fall into the waves, may be thrown upon the strand. But if the surface of the deep be calm, and the rafts are carried along by a current, or wafted by some slight breath of air fanning the foliage of the green trees, it may arrive, after a passage of several weeks, at the bay of an island, into which its plants and animals may be poured out as from an ark, and thus a colony of several hundred new species may at once be naturalized.

We may remind the reader, that we merely advert to the transportation of these rafts as of extremely rare and accidental occurrence; but it may account, in tropical countries, for some of the rare exceptions to the general law, of the confined range of species.

Many of the cetacea, the whales of the northern seas for example" are found to desert one tract of the sea, and to visit another very distant, when they are urged by want of food or danger. The seals also retire from the coasts of Greenland in July, return again in September, and depart again in March, to return in June. They proceed in great droves northwards, directing their course where the sea is most. free from ice" and are observed to be extremely fat when they set out on this expedition, and very lean when they come home again. [26]

Some naturalists have wondered that the sea-calves, dolphins, and other marine mammalia of the Mediterranean and Euxine should be identical with those found in the Caspian; and among other fanciful theories, they have suggested that they may dive through subterranean conduits, and thus pass from one sea into the other. But as the occurrence of wolves and other noxious animals, on both sides the British channel, was adduced by Desmarest, as one of many arguments to prove that England and France were once united, so the correspondence of the aquatic species of the inland seas of Asia with those of the Black Sea, tends to confirm the hypothesis for which there are abundance of independent geological data, that those seas were connected together by straits at no remote period of the earth's history.

Geographical Distribution and Migrations of Birds.

We shall now offer a few observations on some of the other divisions of the animal kingdom. Birds, notwithstanding their great locomotive powers, form no exception to the general rules already laid down, but, in this class as in plants and terrestrial quadrupeds, different groups of species are circumscribed within definite limits. We find, for example, one assemblage in the Brazils, another in the same latitudes in central Africa, another in India, and a fourth in New Holland. But some species again are so local, that in the same archipelago, a single island frequently contains a species found in no other spot on the whole earth; as is exemplified in some of the parrot tribes. In this extensive family, which are, with few exceptions, inhabitants of tropical regions, the American group has not one in common with the African, nor either of these with the parrots of India. [27]

Another illustration is afforded by that minute and beautiful tribe, the humming-birds. The whole of them are, in the first place, peculiar to the new world; but there, although some have a considerable range, as the Trochilus flammifrons which is common to Lima, the island of Juan Fernandez and the Straits of Magellan, [28] other species are peculiar to some of the West-India islands, and have not been found elsewhere in the western hemisphere. The ornithology of our own country affords a no less striking exemplification of the same law, for the common grouse (Tetrao scoticus) occurs nowhere in the known world except in the British isles.

Some species of the vulture tribe are said to be true cosmopolites, and the common wild goose, Anas anser, Linn., if we may believe some ornithologists, is a general inhabitant of the globe, being met with from Lapland to the Cape of Good Hope, frequent in Arabia, Persia, China, and Japan, and in the American continent, from Hudson's Bay to South Carolina. [29] An extraordinary range has also been attributed to the nightingale, which extends from western Europe to Persia, and still farther. In a work entitled Specchio Comparativo [30], by Charles Bonaparte, many species of birds are enumerated as common to Rome and Philadelphia; the greater part of these are migratory, but some of them, such as the long-eared owl, Strix otus, are permanent in both countries.

In parallel zones of the northern and southern hemispheres, a great general correspondence of form is observable, both in the aquatic and terrestrial birds, but there is rarely any specific identity; and this phenomenon is truly remarkable, when we recollect the readiness with which some birds, not gifted with great powers of flight, shift their quarters to different regions, and the facility with which others, possessing great strength of wing, perform their aerial voyages. Some migrate periodically from high latitudes, to avoid the cold of winter, and the accompaniments of cold, -- scarcity of insects and vegetable food; others, it is said, for some particular kinds of nutriment required for rearing their young: for this purpose, they often traverse the ocean for thousands of miles, and re-cross it at other periods, with equal security.

Periodical migrations, no less regular, are mentioned by Humboldt, of many American water-fowl, from one part of the tropics to another in a zone where there is the same temperature throughout the year. Immense flights of ducks leave the valley of the Orinoco, when the increasing depth of its waters and the flooding of its shores prevent them from catching -fish, insects, and aquatic worms. They then betake themselves to the Rio Negro and Amazon, having passed from the eighth and third degrees of north latitude, to the first and fourth of south latitude, directing their course south southeast. In September, when the Orinoco decreases and re-enters into its channel, these birds return northwards. [31]

The insectivorous swallows which visit our island would perish during winter, if they did not annually repair to warmer climes. It is supposed, that in these aerial excursions the average rapidity of their flight is not less than fifty miles an hour, so that when aided by the wind they soon reach warmer latitudes. Spallanzani calculated that the swallow can fly at the rate of ninety-two miles an hour, and conceived that the rapidity of the swift might be three times greater. [32] The fate of flight of the eider-duck (Anas mollissima) has been ascertained to be ninety miles an hour; and that of hawks and several other tribes, to be one hundred and fifty miles. When we reflect how easily different species, in a great lapse of ages, may be each overtaken by gales and hurricanes, and, abandoning themselves to the tempest, be scattered at random through various regions of the earth's surface, where the temperature of the atmosphere, the vegetation, and the animal productions, might be suited to their wants, we shall be prepared to find some species capriciously distributed, and to be sometimes unable to determine the native countries of each. Captain Smyth informs me, that when engaged in his survey of the Mediterranean, he encountered a gale in the gulf of Lyons, at the distance of between twenty and thirty leagues from the coast of France, which bore along many land birds of various species, some of which alighted on the ship, while others were thrown with violence against the sails. In this manner islands become tenanted by species of birds inhabiting the nearest main land.

Geographical Distribution and Dissemination of Reptiles.

A few facts respecting the third great class of vertebrated animals, will suffice to show that the plan of nature, in regard to their location on the globe, is perfectly analogous to that already exemplified in other parts of the organic creation, and has probably been determined by similar causes.

Of the great saurians, the gavials which inhabit the Ganges differ from the cayman of America, or the crocodile of the Nile. The monitor of New Holland is specifically distinct from the Indian species; these latter again from the African, and all from their congeners in the new world. So in regard to snakes; we find the boa of America, represented by the python, a different though nearly allied genus, in India. America is the country of the rattle-snake, Africa of the cerastes, and Asia of the hooded snake or cobra di capello. There is a legend that St. Patrick expelled all reptiles from Ireland, and certain it is that none of the three species of snakes common in England, nor the toad, have been observed there by naturalists. They have our common frog, and our water-newt, and according to Ray (Quad. 264.) the green lizard (Lacerta viridis). Schultes the botanist observed, a few years since, in his tour in England, that there were two great islands in Europe of which the floras were unknown, Sardinia and Ireland; we believe he might also have added the fauna of the latter country.

The range of the large reptiles is, in general, quite as limited as that of some orders of the terrestrial mammalia. The great saurians sometimes cross a considerable tract, in order to pass from one river to another; but their motions by land are generally slower than those of quadrupeds. By water, however, they may transport themselves to distant situations more easily. The larger alligator of the Ganges sometimes descends beyond the brackish water of the Delta into the sea, and in such cases it might chance to be drifted away by a current, and survive till it reached a shore at some distance; but such casualties are probably very rare. [33]

Turtles migrate in large droves from one part of the ocean to another during the ovipositing season. Dr. Fleming [34] mentions that an individual of the hawk's bill turtle (Chelonia imbricata) so common in the American seas has been taken at Papa Stour, one of the West Zetland islands; and according to Sibbald, "the same animal came into Orkney." Another was taken in 1774, in the Severn, according to Turton. Two instances also of the occurrence of the leathern tortoise (C. coriacea), on the coast of Cornwall, in 1756, are mentioned by Borlase. These animals of more southern seas can only be considered as stragglers attracted to our shores during uncommonly warm seasons by an abundant supply of food, or driven by storms to high latitudes.

Some of the smaller reptiles lay their eggs on aquatic plants; and these must often be borne rapidly by rivers, and conveyed to distant regions, in a manner similar to the dispersion of seeds before adverted to. But that the larger ophidians may be themselves transported across the seas is evident from the following most interesting account of the arrival of one at the island of St. Vincent. It is worthy of being recorded, says the Rev. L. Guilding, [35] "that a noble specimen of the Boa constrictor was lately conveyed to us by the currents, twisted round .the trunk of a large sound cedar tree, which had probably been washed out of the bank by the floods of some great South American river~ while its huge folds hung on the branches, as it waited for its prey. The monster was fortunately destroyed after killing a few sheep, and his skeleton now hangs before me in my study, putting me in mind how much reason I might have had to fear in my future rambles through the forests of St. Vincent, had this formidable reptile been a pregnant female, and escaped to a safe retreat."

_______________

Notes:

1. Buffon, vol. v. -- On the Virginian Opossum.

2. Prichard's Phys. Hist. of Mankind, vol. i. p. 54. In some of the preliminary chapters will be found a sketch of the leading facts illustrative of the geographical distribution of animals, drawn up with the author's usual clearness and ability.

3. Description of the Equatorial Regions.

4. Pennant's Hist. of Quadrupeds, cited by Prichard, Phys. Hist. of Mankind, vol. i. p. 66.

5. Prichard, Phys. Hist. of Mankind, p. 66; Cuvier, Ann. du Museum, tom. vii.

6. Prichard, ibid., p. 56.

7. Prichard, Phys. Hist. of Mankind, vol. i., p. 75.

8. Buffon, vol. v. p. 204.

9. Sir T. D. Lauder, Bart. on the Floods in Morayshire, August, 1829, p. 302, second edition.

10. Lib. Entert. Know., Quadrupeds, vol. ii. p. 63.

11. Expedition from Pittsburgh to the Rocky Mountains, vol. ii. p. 153.

12. Richardson's Fauna Boreali-Americana, p. 16.

13. Phil. Trans., vol. ii. p. 872.

14. Wood's Zoography, vol. i. p. 11.

15. On the authority of Mr. Campbell. Library of Entert. Know., Menageries, vol. i. p. 152.

16. Cuvier's Animal Kingdom, by Griffiths, vol. ii. p. 109. Library of Entert. Know., Menageries, vol. i. p. 366.

17. Zoological Researches in Java, No. 2.

18. Append. to Parry's Second Voyage, years 1819-20.

19. Account of the Arctic Regions, vol. i. p. 518.

20. Turton, in a note to Goldsmith's Nat. Hist., vol. iii. p.43.

21. Supplement to Parry's First Voyage of Disc., p. 189.

22. Godman's American Nat. Hist., vol. i. p. 22.

23. See ante} vol. i. p. 188.

24. System of Geography, vol. v. p. 157.

25. United Service Journal, No. 24, p. 697.

26. Krantz, vol. i. p. 129, cited by Goldsmith, Nat. Hist., vol. iii. p. 260.

27. Prichard, vol. i. p. 47.

28. Captain King, during his late survey, found this bird at the Straits of Magellan, in the month of May, the depth of winter, sucking the flowers of the large species of fuchsia, then in bloom in the midst of a shower of snow.

29. Bewiak's Birds, vol. ii. p. 294, who cites Latham.

30. Pisa, 1827 (not sold).

31. VoyaKe aux Regions Equinoxiales, tome vii. p. 429.

32. Fleming, Phil. Zool., vol. ii. p. 43.

33. Malte-Brun says (Syst. of Geog. vol. viii. p. 193), that a crocodile is still preserved at Lyons that was taken from the Rhone, about two centuries ago; but no particulars are given.

34. Brit. Animals, p. 149; who cites Sibbald.

35. Zool. J ourn. vol. iii. p. 406. Dec. 1827.
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Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

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CHAPTER 7

Geographical distribution and migrations of fish – Of testacea – Causes which limit the extension of many species – Their mode of diffusion – Geographical range of zoophytes – Their powers of dissemination – Distribution of insects – Migratory instincts of some species – Certain types characterize particular countries – Their means of dissemination – Geographical distribution and diffusion of man – Speculations as to the birth-place of the human species – Progress of human population – Drifting of canoes to vast distances – On the involuntary influence of man in extending the range of many other species

ALTHOUGH we are less acquainted with the habitations of marine animals than with the grouping of the terrestrial species before described, yet it is well ascertained that their distribution is governed by the same general laws. The testimony borne by MM. Peron and Lesueur to this important fact is remarkably strong. These eminent naturalists, after collecting and describing many thousand species which they brought to Europe from the southern hemisphere, insist most emphatically on their distinctness from those north of the equator; and this remark they extend to animals of all classes, from those of a more simple to those of a more complex organization, from the sponges and medusae to the cetacea. " Among all those which we have been able to examine," say they, "with our own eyes, or with regard to which it has appeared to us possible to pronounce with certainty, there is not a single animal of the southern regions which is not distinguished by essential characters from the analogous species in the northern seas. [1]

The fish of the Arabian gulf are said to differ entirely from those of the Mediterranean, notwithstanding the proximity of these seas. The flying-fish are found (some stragglers excepted) only between the tropics,-in receding from the line they never approach a higher latitude than the fortieth parallel. Those inhabiting the Atlantic are said to be different species from those of the eastern ocean. [2] The electric gymnotus belongs exclusively to America, the trembler, or Silurus electricus to the rivers of Africa; but the torpedo, or crampfish, is said to be dispersed over all tropical and many temperate seas. [3]

All are aware that there are certain fish of passage which have their periodical migrations like some tribes of birds. The salmon, towards the season of spawning, ascends the rivers for hundreds of miles, leaping up the cataracts which it meets in its course, and then retreats again into the depths of the ocean. The herring and the haddock, after frequenting certain shores in vast shoals for a series of years, desert them again and resort to other stations, followed by the species which prey on them. Eels are said to descend into the sea for the purpose of producing their young, which are seen returning into the freshwater by myriads, extremely small in size, but possessing the power of surmounting every obstacle which occurs in the course of a river, by applying their slimy and glutinous bodies to the surface of rocks, or the gates of a lock, even when dry, and so climbing over it. [4]

Gmelin says, that the anseres subsist in their migrations on the spawn of fish, and that oftentimes when they void the spawn, two or three days afterwards, the eggs retain their vitality unimpaired. [5] When there are many disconnected freshwater-lakes in a mountainous region, at various elevations, each remote from the other, it has often been deemed inconceivable how they could all become stocked with fish from one common source; but it has been suggested, that the minute eggs of these animals may sometimes be entangled in the feathers of water-fowl. These, when they alight to wash and plume themselves in the water, may often unconsciously contribute to propagate swarms of fish, which, in due season, will supply them with food. Some of the water-beetles, also, as the dyticidae, are amphibious, and in the evening quit their lakes and pools, and flying in the air transport the minute ova of fishes to distant waters. In this manner some naturalists account for the fry of fish appearing occasionally in small pools caused by heavy rains.

Geographical Distribution and Migrations of Testacea.

The testacea, of which so great a variety of species occurs in the sea, are a class of animals of peculiar importance to the geologist, because their remains are found in strata of all ages, and generally in a higher state of preservation than those of other organic beings. Climate has a decided influence on the geographical distribution of species in this class; but as there is much greater uniformity of temperature in the waters of the ocean, than in the atmosphere which invests the land, the diffusion of many marine molluscs is extensive.

Some forms, as those of the nautili, volutae, and cypraeae, attain their fullest development in warm latitudes; and most of their species are exclusively confined to them. Peron and Lesueur remark, that the Haliotis gigantea, of Van Dieman's land, and the Phasianella, diminish in size as they follow the coasts of New Holland to King George's straits, and entirely disappear beyond them. [6] Almost all the species of South American shells differ from those of the Indian archipelago in the same latitudes; and on the shores of many of the isles of the South Pacific, peculiar species have been obtained. But we are as yet by no means able to sketch out the submarine provinces of shells, as the botanist has done those of the terrestrial, and even of the subaqueous plants. There can be little doubt, however, that the boundaries in this case, both of latitude and longitude, will be found in general well defined. The continuous lines of' continents, stretching from north to south, prevent a particular species from belting the globe, and following the direction of the isothermal lines. The inhabitants of the West Indian seas, for example, cannot enter the Pacific without passing round through the inclement climate of Cape Horn.

Currents also flowing permanently in certain directions, and the influx at certain points of great bodies of fresh-water, limit the extension of many species. Those which love deep water are arrested by shoals; others, fitted for shallow seas, cannot migrate across unfathomable abysses. Some few species, however, have an immense range, as the Bulla aperta for example, which is found in almost all zones. The habitation of the Bulla striata extends from the shores of Egypt to the coasts of England and France, and it recurs again in the seas of Senegal, Brazil, and the West Indies. The Turbo petraeus inhabits the seas of England, Guadaloupe, and the Cape of Good Hope. [7] and many instances of a similar kind might be enumerated. The Ianthina fragilis has wandered into almost every sea both tropical and temperate. This "common oceanic snail" derives its buoyancy from an admirably contrived float, which has enabled it not only to disperse itself so universally, but to become an active agent in disseminating other species which attach themselves, or their ova, to its shell. [8]

It is evident that among the testacea, as in plants and the higher orders of animals, there are species which have a power of enduring a wide range of temperature, whereas others cannot resist a considerable change of climate. Among the fresh- water molluscs, and those which breathe air, Ferrussac mentions a few instances of species of almost universal diffusion.

The Helix putris (Succinea putris, Lam.) so common in Europe, where it reaches from Norway to Italy, is also found in Egypt, in the United States, in Newfoundland, Jamaica, Tranquebar, and, it is even said, in the Marianne Isles. As this animal inhabits constantly the borders of pools and streams where there is much moisture, it is not impossible that different water-fowl have been the agents of spreading some of its minute eggs, which may have been entangled in their feathers. Helix aspersa, one of the commonest of our larger land-shells, is found in South America, at the foot of Chimborazo, as also in Cayenne. Some conchologists have conjectured, that it was accidentally imported in some ship; for it is an eatable species, and these animals are capable of retaining life, during long voyages, without air or nourishment. [9]

Mr. Lowe, in a memoir just published in the Cambridge Transactions, enumerates seventy-one species of land mollusca, collected by him in the islands of Madeira and Porto Santo, sixty of which belonged to the genus Helix alone, including as subgenera Bulimus and Achatina, and excluding Vitrina and Clausilia; -- forty-four of these are new. It is remarkable, that very few of the above-mentioned species are common to the neighbouring archipelago of the Canaries; but it is a still more striking fact, that of the sixty species of the three genera above-mentioned, thirty-one are natives of Porto Santo; whereas, in Madeira, which contains ten times the superficies, were found but twenty-nine. Of these only four were common to the two islands, which are only separated by a distance of twelve leagues; and two even of these four (namely, Helix rhodostoma and H. vventrosa) are species of general dif· fusion, common to Madeira, the Canaries, and the South of Europe. [10]

The confined range of these molluscs may easily be explained, if we admit that species have only one birth-place; and the only problem to be solved would relate to the exceptions -- to account for the dissemination of some species throughout several isles and the European continent. May not the eggs, when washed into the sea by the undermining of cliffs, float uninjured to a distant shore?

Notwithstanding the proverbially slow motion of snails and molluscs in general, and although many aquatic species adhere constantly to the same rock for their whole lives, they are by no means destitute of provision for disseminating themselves rapidly over a wide area. Some lay their eggs in a sponge-like nidus, wherein the young remain enveloped for a time after their birth, and this buoyant substance floats far and wide as readily as sea-weed. The young of other viviparous tribes are often borne along, entangled in sea-weed. Sometimes they are so light that, like grains of sand, they can be easily moved by currents. Balani and serpulae are sometimes found adhering to floating cocoa-nuts, and even to fragments of pumice. In rivers and lakes, on the other hand, aquatic univalves usually attach their eggs to leaves and sticks which have fallen into the water, and which are liable to be swept away, during floods, from tributaries to the main streams, and from thence to all parts of the same basins. Particular species may thus migrate during one season from the head waters of the Mississippi, or any other great river, to countries bordering the sea, at the distance of many thousand miles.

An illustration of the mode of attachment of these eggs will be seen in the annexed diagram. (No. 1.)

Image
Eggs of fresh-water Molluscs.
Fig. 1. Eggs of Ampullaria ovata (a fluviatile species), fixed to a small sprig which had fallen into the water.
Fig. 2. Eggs of Planorbis albus, attached to a dead leaf lying under water.
Fig. 3. Eggs of the common Limneus (L. vulgaris), adhering to a dry stick under water.


The habit of some testacea to adhere to floating wood is proved by their fixing themselves to the bottoms of ships. By this mode of conveyance Mytilus polymorphus has been brought from northern Europe to the Commercial Docks in the Thames, where the species is now domiciled.

Geographical Distribution and Migrations of Zoophytes.

Zoophytes are very imperfectly known, but there can be little doubt that each maritime region possesses species peculiar to itself. The madrepores, or lamelliferous polyparia, are found in their fullest development only in the tropical seas of Polynesia and the East and West Indies, and this family is represented only by a few species in our seas. Those even of the Mediterranean are inferior in size, and, for the most part, different from such as inhabit the tropics. Peron and Lesueur, after studying the Holothuriae, Medusae, and other congeners of delicate and changeable forms, came to the conclusion that each kind has its place of residence determined by the temperature necessary to support its existence. Thus, for example, they found the abode of Pyrosoma Atlantica to be confined to one particular region of the Atlantic ocean. [11]

Let us now inquire how the transportation of polyps from one part of the globe to another is effected. Many of them, as in the families Flustra and Sertularia, attach themselves to sea-weed, and are occasionally drifted along with it. Many fix themselves to the shells of gasteropods, and are thus borne along by them to short distances. Some polyps, like the seapens, swim freely about in the sea. But the most frequent mode of transportation, probably, consists in the buoyancy of their eggs, or certain small vesicles which are detached and are capable of becoming the foundation of a new colony. These gems, as they have been called, may be swept along by a wave that breaks upon a coral-reef, and may then be borne by a current to a distance.

That some zoophytes adhere to floating bodies is proved by their being found attached to the bottoms of ships, as in the case of testacea before alluded to.

Geographical Distribution and Migrations of Insects.

Before we conclude our sketch of the manner in which the habitable parts of the earth are shared out among particular assemblages of organic beings, we must offer a few remarks on insects, which, by their numbers, and the variety of their powers and instincts, exert a prodigious influence in the economy of animate nature. As a large portion of these minute creatures are strictly dependent for their subsistence on certain species of vegetables, the entomological provinces must coincide in a considerable degree with the botanical.

All the insects, says Latreille, brought from the eastern parts of Asia and China, whatever be their latitude and temperature, are distinct from those of Europe and of Africa. The insects of the United States, although often they approach very close to our own, are nevertheless specifically distinguishable by some characters. In South America, the equinoctial lands of New Grenada and Peru on the one side, and of Guiana on the other, contain for the most part distinct groups; the Andes forming the division, and interposing a narrow line of severe cold between climates otherwise very similar. [12]

The insects of the United States, even those of the northern provinces as far as Canada, differ specifically from the European, while those of Greenland appear to be in a great measure identical with our own. Some insects are very local, while a few, on the contrary, are common to remote countries, between which the torrid zone and the ocean intervene. Thus our painted lady butterfly (Vanessa Cardui) reappears in New Holland and Japan with scarcely a varying streak. [13] The same species is said to be one of the few insects which are universally dispersed over the earth, being found in Europe, Asia, Africa, and America; and its wide range is the more interesting because it seems explained by its migratory instinct, seconded, no doubt, by a capacity enjoyed by few species, of enduring a great diversity of temperature.

A vast swarm of this species, forming a column from ten to fifteen feet broad, was, a few years since, observed in the Canton de Vaud; they traversed the country with great rapidity from north to south, all flying onwards in regular order, close together, and not turning from their course on the approach of other objects. Professor Bonelli, of Turin, observed, in March of the same year, a similar swarm of the same species~ also directing their flight from north to south, in Piedmont, in such immense numbers, that at night the flowers were literally covered with them. They had been traced from Coni, Raconi, Susa, &c. A similar flight at the end of the last century is recorded by M. Louch, in the Memoirs of the Academy of Turin. The fact is the more worthy of notice, because the caterpillars of this butterfly are not gregarious, but solitary from the moment that they are hatched; and this instinct remains dormant, while generation after generation passes away, till it suddenly displays itself in full energy when their numbers happen to be in excess.

Not only peculiar species but certain types distinguish particular countries; and there are groups, observes Kirby, which represent each other in distant regions, whether in their form, their functions, or in both. Thus the honey and wax of Europe, Asia, and Africa, are in each case prepared by bees congenerous with our common hive-bee (Apis, Latr.); while in America, this genus is nowhere indigenous, but is replaced by Melipona and Trigona; and in New Holland by a still different, but undescribed type. [14]

As almost all insects are winged, they can readily spread themselves wherever their progress is not opposed by uncongenial climates, or by seas, mountains, and other physical impediments; and these barriers they can sometimes surmount by abandoning themselves to violent winds, which, as we before stated, when speaking of floating seeds, may in a few hours carry them to very considerable distances. On the Andes some sphinxes and flies have been observed by Humboldt, at the height of nineteen thousand one hundred and eighty feet above the sea, and which appeared to him to have been involuntarily carried into these regions by ascending currents of air. [15]

White mentions a remarkable shower of aphides which seem to have emigrated, with an east wind, from the great hop plantations of Kent and Sussex, and blackened the shrubs and vegetables where they alighted at Selbourne, spreading at the same time in great clouds all along the vale from Farnham to Alton. These aphides are sometimes accompanied by vast numbers of the common lady-bird (Coccinella semptem-punctata), which feed upon them. [16]

It is remarkable, says Kirby, that many of the insects which are occasionally observed to emigrate, as, for instance, the libellulae, coccinellae, carabi, cicadae, &c., are not usually social insects, but seem to congregate, like swallows, merely for the purpose of emigration. [17] Here, therefore, we have an example of an instinct developing itself on certain rare emergencies, causing unsocial species to become gregarious, and to venture sometimes even to cross the ocean.

To the armies of locusts darkening the air in Africa, and traversing the globe from Turkey to our southern counties in England, we need not here allude. When the western gales sweep over the Pampas, they bear along with them myriads of insects of various kinds. As a proof of the manner in which species may be thus diffused, we may mention that when the Creole frigate was lying in the outer roads off Buenos Ayres, in 1819, at the distance of six miles from the land, her decks and rigging were suddenly covered with thousands of flies and grains of sand. The sides of the vessel had just received a fresh coat of paint, to which the insects adhered in such numbers as to spot and disfigure the vessel, and to render it necessary partially to renew the paint. [18] Captain W. H. Smyth was obliged to repaint his vessel, the Adventure, in the Mediterranean, from the same cause. He was on his way from Malta to Tripoli, when a southern wind blowing from the coast of Africa, then one hundred miles distant, drove such myriads of flies upon the fresh paint, that not the smallest point was left unoccupied by insects.

To the southward of the river Plate, off Cape St. Antonio, and at the distance of fifty miles from land, several large dragon-flies alighted on the Adventure frigate, during Captain King's late expedition to the Straits of Magellan. If the wind abates when insects are thus crossing the sea, the most delicate species are not necessarily drowned, for many can repose without sinking on the unruffled surface of the deep. The slender, long-legged tipulae have been seen standing on the surface of the sea, when driven out far from our coast, and took wing immediately on being approached. [19] Exotic beetles are sometimes thrown on our shore, which revive after having been long drenched in salt-water; and the periodical appearance of some conspicuous butterflies amongst us, after being unseen for five or fifty years, has been ascribed, not without probability, to the agency of the winds.

Inundations of rivers, observes Kirby, if they happen at any season except in the depth of winter, always carry down a. number of insects, floating on the surface of bits of stick, weeds, &c., so that when the waters subside, the entomologist may generally reap a plentiful harvest. In the dissemination, moreover, of these minute beings, as in that of plants, the larger animals play their part. Insects are, in numberless instances, borne along in the coats of animals, or the feathers of birds; and the eggs of some species are capable, like seeds, of resisting the digestive powers of the stomach, and after they are swallowed with herbage, may be ejected again unharmed in the dung.

Geographical Distribution and Diffusion of Man.

We have reserved for the last our observations on the range and diffusion of the human species over the earth, and the influence of man, in spreading other animals and plants, especially the terrestrial.

Many naturalists have amused themselves in speculating on the probable birth-place of mankind, the point from which, if we assume the whole human race to have descended from a single pair, the tide of emigration must originally have proceeded. It has been always a favourite conjecture, that this birth-place was situated within or near the tropics, where perpetual summer reigns, and where fruits, herbs, and roots, are plentifully supplied throughout the year. The climate of these regions, it has been said, is suited to a being born without any covering, and who had not yet acquired the arts of building habitations or providing clothes.

"The hunter state," it has been argued, "which Montesquieu placed the first, was probably only the second stage to which mankind arrived, since so many arts must have been invented to catch a salmon or a deer, that society could no longer have been in its infancy when they came into use." [20] When regions where the spontaneous fruits of the earth abound became overpeopled, men would naturally diffuse themselves over the neighbouring parts of the temperate zone; but a considerable time would probably elapse before this event took place; and it is possible, as a writer before cited observes, that in the interval before the multiplication of their numbers and their increasing wants had compelled them to emigrate, some arts to take animals were invented, but far inferior to what we see practised at this day among savages. As their habitations gradually advanced into the temperate zone, the new difficulties they had to encounter would call forth by degrees the spirit of invention, and the probability of such inventions always rises with the number of people involved in the same necessity. [21]

A distinguished modern writer, who coincides for the most part in the views of Aphonin above mentioned, has introduced one of the persons in his second dialogue as objecting to the theory of the human race having gradually advanced from a savage to a civilized state, on the ground that " the first man must have inevitably been destroyed by the elements or devoured by savage beasts, so infinitely his superiors in physical force." [22] He then contends against the difficulty here started by various arguments, all of which were, perhaps, superfluous, for if a philosopher is pleased to indulge in conjectures on this subject, why should he not assign, as the original seat of man, some one of those large islands within the tropics, which are as free from wild beasts as Van Diemen's Land or Australia? Here man may have remained for a period peculiar to a single isle, just as some of the large anthropomorphous species are now limited to one island within the tropics. In such a situation, the new-born race might have lived in security, though far more helpless than the New Holland savages, and might have found abundance of vegetable food. Colonies may afterwards have been sent forth from this mother country, and then the peopling of the earth may have proceeded according to the hypothesis before alluded to.

In an early stage of society the necessity of hunting acts as a principle of repulsion, causing men to spread with the greatest rapidity over a country, until the whole is covered with scattered settlements. It has been calculated that eight hundred acres of hunting-ground only produce as much food as half an acre of arable land. When the game has been in a great measure exhausted, and a state of pasturage succeeds, the several hunter tribes, being already scattered, may multiply in a short time into the greatest number which the pastoral state is capable of sustaining. The necessity, says Brand, thus imposed upon the two savage states, of dispersing themselves far and wide over the country, affords a reason why, at a very early period, the worst parts of the earth may have become inhabited.

But this reason it may be said is only applicable in as far as regards the peopling of a continuous continent; whereas the smallest islands, however remote from continents, have almost invariably been found inhabited by man. St. Helena, it is true, afforded an exception; for when that island was discovered in 1501, it was only inhabited by sea-fowl, and occasionally by seals and turtles, and was covered with a forest of trees and shrubs, all of species peculiar, as we before observed, with one or two exceptions, and which seem to have been expressly created for this remote and insulated spot.

But very few of the numerous coral islets and volcanos of the vast Pacific, capable of sustaining a few families of men, have been found untenanted, and we have, therefore, to inquire whence and by what means, if all the members of the great human family have had one common source, could those savages have migrated. Cook, Forster, and others have remarked that parties of savages in their canoes must often have lost their way and must have been driven on distant shores, where they were forced to remain, deprived both of the means and of the requisite intelligence for returning to their own country. Thus Captain Cook found on the island Wateoo, three inhabitants of Otaheite, who had been drifted thither in a canoe, although the distance between the two isles is five hundred and fifty miles. In 1696, two canoes containing thirty persons, who had left Ancorso, were thrown by contrary winds and storms on the island of Samar, one of the Philippines, at a distance of eight hundred miles. In 1721, two canoes, one of which contained twenty-four, and the other six persons, men, women, and children, were drifted from an island called Baroilep, to the island of Guam, one of the Marians. [23]

Kotzebue, when investigating the Coral isles of Radack, at the eastern extremity of the Caroline isles, became acquainted with a person of the name of Kadu, who was a native of Ulea, an isle fifteen hundred miles distant, from which he had been drifted with a party. Kadu and three of his countrymen, one day, left Ulea in a sailing boat, when a violent storm arose, and drove them out of their course; they drifted about the open sea for eight months, according to their reckoning by the moon, making a knot on a cord at every new moon. Being expert fishermen they subsisted entirely on the produce of the sea; and when the rain fell, laid in as much fresh-water as they had vessels to contain it. "Kadu," says Kotzebue, "who was the best diver, frequently went down to the bottom of the sea, where it is well known that the water is not so salt, with a cocoa nut shell, with only a small opening." When these unfortunate men reached the isles of Radack, every hope and almost every feeling had died within them; their sail had long been destroyed, their canoe had long been the sport of winds and waves, and they were picked up by the inhabitants of Aur, in a state of insensibility; [24] but by the hospitable care of those islanders they soon recovered, and were restored to perfect health.

Captain Beechey, in his late voyage to the Pacific, fell in with some natives of the Coral Islands, who had in a similar manner been carried to a great distance from their native country. They had embarked to the number of one hundred and fifty souls, in three double canoes, from Anaa, or Chain Island, situate about three hundred miles to the eastward of Otaheite. They were overtaken by the monsoon, which dispersed the canoes, and after driving them about the ocean, left them becalmed, so that a great number of persons perished. Two of the canoes were never heard of, but the other was drifted from one uninhabited island to another, at each of which the voyagers obtained a few provisions; and at length, after having wandered for a distance of six hundred miles, they were found and carried to their home in the Blossom. [25]

The space traversed in some of these instances was so great, that similar accidents might suffice to transport canoes from various parts of Africa to the shores of South America, or from Spain to the Azores, and thence to North America. So that man, even in a rude state of society, is liable to be scattered involuntarily by the winds and waves over the globe, in a manner singularly analogous to that in which many plants and animals are diffused. We ought not then to wonder that during the ages required for some tribes of the human race to attain that advanced stage of civilization which empowers the navigator to cross the ocean in all directions with security, the whole earth should have become the abode of rude tribes of hunters and fishers. Were the whole of mankind now cut off, with the exception of one family, inhabiting the old or new continent, or Australia, or even some coral islet of the Pacific, we should expect their descendants, though they should never become more enlightened than the South Sea Islanders or the Esquimaux, to spread in the course of ages over the whole earth, diffused partly by the tendency of population to increase beyond the means of subsistence, in a limited district, and partly by the accidental drifting of canoes by tides and currents to distant shores.

Involuntary influence of Man in diffusing Animals and Plants.

Many of the general remarks which we made respecting the influence of man in spreading or in checking the diffusion of plants, apply equally to his relations with the animal kingdom. We shall be led on a future occasion to speak of the instrumentality of our species in naturalizing useful animals and plants in new regions, when we explain our views of the effects which the spreading and increase of certain species exert in the extirpation of others. At present we shall confine ourselves to a few remarks on the involuntary aid which man lends to the dissemination of species.

In the mammiferous class our influence is chiefly displayed in increasing the number of quadrupeds which are serviceable to us, and in exterminating or reducing the number of those which are noxious.

Sometimes, however, we unintentionally promote the multiplication of inimical species, as when we introduced the rat, which was not indigenous in the New World, into all parts of America. They have been conveyed over in ships, and now infest a great multitude of islands and parts of that continent. In like manner the Norway rat has been imported into England, where it plunders our property in ships and houses.

The great viper, fer de lance, a species no less venomous than the rattle-snake, which now ravages Martinique and St. Lucia, was accidentally introduced by man, and exists in no other part of the West Indies.

Many parasitic insects, which attack our persons, and some of which are supposed to be peculiar to our species, have been carried into all parts of the earth, and have as high a claim as man to an universal geographical distribution.

A great variety of insects have been transported in ships from one country to another, especially in warmer latitudes. Notwithstanding the coldness of our climate, we have been unable to prevent the cockroach (Blatta orientalis), from entering and diffusing itself in our ovens and kneading troughs, and availing itself of the artificial warmth which we afford. It is well known also that beetles, and many other kinds of ligniperdous insects, have been introduced into Great Britain in timber; especially several North American species. "The commercial relations," says MaIte-Brun, [26] "between France and India, have transported from the latter country the aphis, which destroys the apple-tree, and two sorts of Neuroptera, the lucifuga and flavicola, mostly confined to Provence and the neighbourhood of Bordeaux, where they devour the timber in the houses and naval arsenals."

Among molluscs we may mention the teredo navalis, which is a native of equatorial seas, but which, by adhering to the bottom of ships, was transported to Holland, where it has been most destructive to vessels and piles. The same species has also become naturalized in England, and other countries enjoying an extensive commerce.

In all these and innumerable other instances, we may regard the involuntary agency of man as strictly analogous to that of the inferior animals. Like them we unconsciously contribute to extend or limit the geographical range and numbers of certain species, in obedience to general rules in the economy of nature, which are for the most part beyond our control.

_______________

Notes:

1. Sur les Habitations des Animaux Marins. Ann. du Mus. tom. xv., cited by Prichard, Phys. Hist. of Mankind, vol. i. p. 51.

2. Malte-Brun, vol. i. p. 507.

3. Ibid.

4. Phil. Trans. 1747, p. 305.

5. Amoen. Acad., Essay 75

6. Ann. du Mus. d'Hist. Nat., tom. xv.

7. Fer. Art. Geogr. Phys. Dict. Class. d'Hist. Nat.

8. Mr. Broderip possesses specimens of Ianthina fragilis, bearing more than one species of barnacle (Pentelasmis), presented to him by Captain King and Lieutenant Graves. One of these specimens, taken alive by Captain King far at sea, and a little north of the equator, is so loaded with those cirrhipeds, and with numerous ova, that all the upper part of its shell is invisible.

9. Four individuals of a large species of Bulimus, from Valparaiso, were brought to England by Lieutenant Graves, who accompanied Captain King in his late expedition to the Straits of Magellan. They had been packed up in a box and enveloped in cotton, two for a space of thirteen, one for seventeen, and a fourth for upwards of twenty months; but on being exposed, by Mr. Broderip, to the warmth of a fire in London, and provided with tepid water and leaves, they revived, and are now living in Mr. Loddiges' palm-house.

10. Camb. Phil. Trans. vol. iv. 1831.

11. Voy. aux Terres Australes, tome i. p. 492.

12. Geographie Generale des Insectes et des Arachnides. Mem. du Mus. d'Hist Nat. tome iii.

13. Kirby and Spence, vol. iv. p. 487.

14. Kirby and Spence, vol. iv. p. 497.

15. Description of the Equatorial Regions -- Malte-Brun, vol. v. p. 379.

16. Kirby and Spence, vol. ii. p. 9, 1817.

17. Vol. ii. p. 12.

18. I am indebted to Lieutenant Graves, R.N. for this information.

19. I state this fact on the authority of my friend, Mr. Curtis.

20. If. Rev. J. F. Brand, commenting on Aphonin, Amoen. Acad. vol. vii. p. 409. Brand's Select Dissert. from the Amoen. Acad. vol. i. p. 118.

21. Idem., ib.

22. Sir H. Davy, Consolations in Travel, p. 74.

23. Malte-Brun's Geography, vol. iii. p. 419.

24. Kotzebue's Voyage, 1815-1818. Quarterly Review, vol. xxvi. p. 361.

25. Narrative or a Voyage to the Pacific, &c., in the years 1825, 1826, 1827, 1828, p. 170.

26. Syst. of Geog., vol. viii., p. 169.
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Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

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CHAPTER 8

Theories respecting the original introduction of species – Proposal of an hypothesis on this subject – Supposed centres or foci of creation – Why the distinct provinces of animals and plants have not become more blended together – Brocchi's speculations on the loss of species – Stations of plants and animals – Complication of causes on which they depend – Stations of plants, how affected by animals – Equilibrium in the number of Species, how preserved – Peculiar efficacy of insects in this task – Rapidity with which certain insects multiply, or decrease in numbers – Effect of omnivorous animals in preserving the equilibrium of species – Reciprocal influence of aquatic and terrestrial species on each other

It would be superfluous to examine the various attempts which were made to explain the phenomena of the distribution of species alluded to in the preceding chapters, in the infancy of the sciences of botany, zoology, and physical geography. The theories or rather conjectures then indulged, now stand refuted by a simple statement of facts; and if Linnaeus were living, he would be the :first to renounce the notions which he promulgated. For he imagined the habitable world to have been for a certain time limited to one small tract, the only portion of the earth's surface that was as yet laid bare by the subsidence of the primaeval ocean. In this fertile spot he supposed the originals of all the species of plants which exist on this globe to have been congregated, together with the first ancestors of all animals and of the human race. "In qua com mode habitaverint animalia omnia, et vegetabilia laete germinaverint." In order to accommodate the various habitudes of so many creatures, and to provide a diversity of climate suited to their several natures, the tract in which the creation took place was supposed to have been situated in some warm region of the earth, but to have contained a lofty mountain range, on the heights and in the declivities of which were to be found all temperatures and every clime, from the torrid to the frozen zone. [1]

That there never was a universal ocean since the planet was inhabited, or rather since the oldest groups of strata yet known to contain organic remains were formed, is proved by the presence of terrestrial plants in all the older formations; and if this conclusion was not established, yet no geologist could deny that since the first small portion of the earth was laid dry, there have been many entire changes in the species of plants and animals inhabiting the land.

But without dwelling on the above and other refuted theories, let us inquire whether we can substitute some hypothesis as simple as that of Linnaeus, to which the phenomena now ascertained in regard to the distribution both of aquatic and terrestrial species may be referred. The following may, perhaps, be reconcileable with known facts: -- Each species may have had its origin in a single pair, or individual, where an individual was sufficient, and species may have been created in succession at such times and in such places as to enable them to multiply and endure for an appointed period, and occupy an appointed space on the globe.

In order to explain this theory, let us suppose every living thing to be destroyed in the western hemisphere, both on the land and in the ocean, and permission to be given to man to people this great desert, by transporting into it animals and plants from the eastern hemisphere, a strict prohibition being enforced against introducing two original stocks or the same species.

Now the result we conceive of such a mode of colonizing would correspond exactly, so far as regards the grouping of animals and plants, with that now observed throughout the globe. It would be necessary for naturalists, before they imported species into particular localities,. to study attentively the climate and other physical conditions of each spot. It would be no less requisite to introduce the different species in succession, so that each plant and animal might have time and opportunity to multiply before the species destined to prey upon it was admitted. Many herbs and shrubs, for example, must spread far and wide before the sheep, the deer, and the goat could be allowed to enter, lest they should devour and annihilate the original stocks of many plants, and then perish themselves for want of food. The above-mentioned herbivorous animals in their turn must be permitted to make considerable progress before the entrance of the first pair of wolves or lions. Insects must be allowed to swarm before the swallow could be permitted to skim through the air and feast on thousands at one repast.

It is evident that, however equally in this case our original stocks were distributed over the whole surface of land and water, there would nevertheless arise distinct botanical and zoological provinces, for there are a great many natural barriers which oppose common obstacles to the advance of a variety of species. Thus, for example, almost all the animals and plants naturalized by us towards the extremity of South America, would be unable to spread beyond a certain limit, towards the east, west, and south, because they would be stopped by the ocean, and a few of them only would succeed in reaching the cooler latitudes of the northern hemisphere, because they would be incapable of bearing the heat of the tropics, through which they must pass. In the course of ages, undoubtedly, exceptions would arise, and some species might become common to the temperate and polar regions, or both sides of the equator; for we have before shown that the powers of diffusion conferred on some classes are very great. But we should confidently predict that these exceptions would never become so numerous as to invalidate the general rule.

Some of the plants and animals transplanted by us to the coast of Chili or Peru would never be able to cross the Andes, so as to reach the Eastern plains; nor, for a similar reason, would those first established in the Pampas, or the valleys of the Amazon and the Orinoco, ever arrive at the shores of the Pacific.

In the ocean an analogous state of things would prevail; for there, also, climate would exert a great influence in limiting the range of species, and the land would stop the migrations of aquatic tribes as effectually as the sea arrests the dispersion of the terrestrial. As certain birds, insects, and the seeds of plants, can never cross the direction of prevailing winds, so currents form natural barriers to the dissemination of many oceanic races. A line of shoals may be as impassable to pelagian species, as are the Alps and the Andes to plants and animals peculiar to plains, while deep abysses may prove insuperable obstacles to the migrations of the inhabitants of shallow waters.

It is worthy of observation, that one effect of the introduction of single pairs of each species must be the confined range of certain groups in spots which, like small islands, or solitary inland lakes, have few means of interchanging their inhabitants with adjoining regions. Now this congregating, in a small space, of many peculiar species, would give an appearance of centres or foci of creation, as they have been termed, as if there were favourite points where the creative energy has been in greater action than in others, and where the numbers of peculiar organic beings have consequently become more considerable.

We do not mean to call in question the soundness of the inferences of some botanists, as to the former existence of certain limited spots whence species of plants have been propagated, radiating, as it were, in all directions from a common centre. On the contrary, we conceive these phenomena to be the necessary consequences of the plan of nature before suggested, operating during the successive mutations of the surface, some of which the geologist can prove to have taken place subsequently to the period when many species now existing were created. In order to exemplify how this arrangement of plants may have been produced, let us imagine that, about three centuries before the discovery of St. Helena (itself of submarine volcanic origin), a multitude of new isles had been thrown up in the surrounding sea, and that these had each become clothed with plants emigrating from St. Helena, in the same manner as the wild plants of Campania have diffused themselves over Monte Nuovo. Whenever the first botanist investigated the new archipelago, he would, in all probability, find a different assemblage of plants in each of the isles of recent formation; but in 8t. Helena itself, he would meet with individuals of every species belonging to all parts of the archipelago, and some, in addition, peculiar to itself, viz., those which had not been able to obtain a passage into anyone of the surrounding new-formed lands. In this case., it might be truly said that the original isle was the primitive focus, or centre, of a certain type of vegetation, whereas, in the surrounding isles, there would be a smaller number of species, yet all belonging to the same group.

But this peculiar distribution of plants would not warrant the conclusion that, in the space occupied by St. Helena, there had been a greater exertion of creative power than in the spaces of equal area occupied by the new adjacent lands, because, within the period in which 81. Helena had acquired its peculiar vegetation, each of the spots supposed to be subsequently converted into land, may have been the birth-places of a great number of marine animals and plants, which may have had time to scatter themselves far and wide over the southern Atlantic.

Perhaps it may be objected to some part of the foregoing train of reasoning, that during the lapse of past ages, especially during many partial revolutions of the globe of comparatively modern date, different zoological and botanical provinces ought to have become more confounded and blended together -- that the distribution of species approaches too nearly to what might have been expected, if animals and plants had been introduced into the globe when its physical geography had already assumed the features which it now wears; whereas we know that, in certain districts, considerable geographical changes have taken place since species identical with those now in being were created.

These, and many kindred topics, cannot be fully discussed until we have considered, not merely the general laws which may regulate the first introduction of species, but those which may limit their duration on the earth. Brocchi, whose untimely death in Egypt is deplored by all who have the progress of geology at heart, has remarked, when hazarding some interesting conjectures respecting "the loss of species," that a modern naturalist had no small assurance, who declared" that individuals alone were capable of destruction, and that species were so perpetuated that nature could not annihilate them, so long as the planet lasted, or at least that nothing less than the shock of a comet, or some similar disaster, could put an end to their existence." [2] The Italian geologist, on the contrary, had satisfied himself, that many species of testacea, which formerly inhabited the Mediterranean, had become extinct, although a great number of others, which had been the contemporaries of those lost races, still survived. He came to the opinion, that about half the species which peopled the waters when the Subapennine strata were deposited, had gone out of existence; and in this inference he does not appear to have been far wrong.

But instead of seeking a solution of this problem, like some other geologists of his time, in a violent and general catastrophe, Brocchi endeavoured to imagine some regular and constant law by which species might be made to disappear from the earth gradually and in succession. The death, he suggested, of a species might depend, like that of individuals, on certain peculiarities of constitution conferred upon them at their birth, and as the longevity of the one depends on a certain force of vitality, which, after a period, grows weaker and weaker, so the duration of the other may be governed by the quantity of prolific power bestowed upon the species, which, after a season, may decline in energy, so that the fecundity and multiplication of individuals may be gradually lessened from century to century, "until that fatal term arrives, when the embryo, incapable of extending and developing itself, abandons, almost at the instant of its formation, the slender principle of life by which it was scarcely animated, -- and so all dies with it."

Now we might coincide in opinion with the Italian naturalist, as to the gradual extinction of species one after another, by the operation of regular and constant causes, without admitting an inherent principle of deterioration in their physiological attributes. We might concede "that many species are on the decline, and that the day is not far distant when they will cease to exist;" yet deem it consistent with what we know of the nature of organic beings, to believe that the last individuals of each species retain their prolific powers in their full intensity.

Brocchi has himself speculated on the share which a change of climate may have had in rendering the Mediterranean unfit for the habitation of certain testacea, which still continued to thrive in the Indian ocean, and of others which were now only represented by analogous forms within the tropics. He. must also have been aware that other extrinsic causes, such as the progress of human population, or the increase of some one of the inferior animals, might gradually lead to the extirpation of a particular species, although its fecundity might remain to the last unimpaired. If, therefore, amid the vicissitudes of the animate and inanimate world, there are known causes capable of bringing about the decline and extirpation of species, it became him thoroughly to investigate the full extent to which these might operate, before he speculated on any cause of so purely hypothetical a kind, as "the diminution of the prolific virtue."

If it could have been shown that some wild plant had insensibly dwindled away and died out, as sometimes happens to cultivated varieties propagated by cuttings, even though climate, soil, and every other circumstance should continue identically the same-if any animal had perished while the physical condition of the earth, and the number and force of its foes, with every other extrinsic cause, remained unaltered, then might we have some ground for suspecting that the infirmities of age creep on as naturally on species as upon individuals. But in the absence of such observations, let us turn to another class of facts, and examine attentively the circumstances which determine the stations of particular animals and plants" and perhaps we shall discover, in the vicissitudes to which these stations are exposed, a cause fully adequate to explain the phenomena under consideration.

Stations comprehend all the circumstances, whether relating to the animate or inanimate world, which determine whether a given plant or animal can exist in a given locality" so that if it be shown that stations can become essentially modified by the influence of known causes, it will follow that species, as well as individuals, are mortal.

Every naturalist is familiar with the fact, that although in a particular country, such as Great Britain, there may be more than three thousand species of plants" ten thousand insects, and a great variety in each of the other classes, yet there will not be more than a hundred, perhaps not half that number, inhabiting any given locality. There may be no want of space in the supposed tract; it may be a large mountain, or an extensive moor, or a great river-plain, containing room enough for individuals of every species in our island; yet the spot will be occupied by a few to the exclusion of many, and these few are enabled, throughout long periods, to maintain their ground successfully against every intruder, notwithstanding the facilities which species enjoy, by virtue of their powers of diffusion, of invading adjacent territories.

The principal causes which enable a certain assemblage of plants thus to maintain their ground against all others depend, as is well known, on the relations between the physiological nature of each species, and the climate, exposure, soil, and other physical conditions of the locality. Some plants live only on rocks, others in meadows, a third class in marshes. Of the latter, some delight in a fresh-water morass, -- others in salt marshes, where their roots may copiously absorb saline particles. Some prefer an alpine region in a warm latitude, where, during the heat of summer, they are constantly irrigated by the cool waters of melting snows. To others loose sand, so fatal to the generality of species, affords the most proper station. The Carex arenaria and the Elymus arenarius acquire their full vigour on a sandy dune, obtaining an ascendency over the very plants which in a stiff clay would immediately stifle them.

Where the soil of a district is of so peculiar a nature that it is extremely favourable to certain species, and agrees ill with every other, the former get exclusive possession of the ground, and, as in the case of heaths, live in societies. In like manner, the Bog moss (Hypnum palustre) is fully developed in peaty swamps, and becomes, like the heath, in the language of botanists, a social plant. Such monopolies would be very frequent, if the powers of a great number of species were not equally balanced, and if animals did not interfere most actively to preserve an equilibrium in the vegetable kingdom.

"All the plants of a given country," says Decandolle in his usual spirited style, " are at war one with another. The first which establish themselves by chance in a particular spot, tend, by the mere occupancy of space, to exclude other species -- the greater choke the smaller, the longest livers replace those which last for a shorter period, the more prolific gradually make themselves masters of the ground, which species multiplying more slowly would otherwise fill."

In this continual strife, it is not always the resources of the plant itself which enable it to maintain or extend its ground. Its success depends, in a great measure, on the number of its foes or allies among the animals and plants inhabiting the same region. Thus, for example, a herb which loves the shade may multiply, if some tree with spreading boughs and dense foliage flourish in the neighbourhood. Another, which, if unassisted, would be overpowered by the rank growth of some hardy competitor, is secure, because its leaves are unpalatable to cattle, which, on the other hand, annually crop down its antagonist, and rarely suffer it to ripen its seed.

Oftentimes we see some herb which has flowered in the midst of' a thorny shrub, when all the other individuals of the same species, in the sunny fields around, are eaten down, and cannot bring their seed to maturity. In this case, the shrub has lent his armour of spines and prickles to protect the defenceless herb against the mouths of the cattle, and thus a few individuals which occupied, perhaps, the most unfavourable station in regard to exposure, soil, and other circumstances, may nevertheless, by the aid of an ally, become the principal source whereby the winds are supplied with seeds which perpetuate the species throughout the surrounding tract.

In the above example we see one plant shielding another from the attacks of animals; but instances are, perhaps, still more numerous, where some animal defends a plant against the enmity of some other subject of the vegetable kingdom.

Scarcely any beast, observes a Swedish naturalist, [3] will touch the nettle, but fifty different kinds of insects are fed by it. Some of these seize upon the root, others upon the stem; some eat the leaves, others devour the seeds and flowers: but for this multitude of enemies, the nettle would annihilate a great number of plants. Linnaeus tells us, in his Tour in Scania, that goats were turned into an island which abounded with the Agrostis arundinacea, where they perished by famine; but horses, which followed them, grew fat on the same plant. The goat, also, he says, thrives on the meadow-sweet and water hemlock, plants which are injurious to cattle. [4]

Every plant, observes Wilcke, has its proper insect allotted to it to curb its luxuriancy, and to prevent it from multiplying to the exclusion of others. "Thus grass in meadows sometimes flourishes so as to exclude all other plants: here the Phalrena graminis (Bombyx gram.), with her numerous progeny, find a well-spread table; they multiply in immense numbers, and the farmer for some years laments the failure of his hay crop; but the grass being consumed, the moths die with hunger, or remove to another place. Now the quantity of grass being greatly diminished, the other plants, which were before choked by it, spring up~ and the ground becomes variegated with a multitude of diffeJ;ent species of flowers. Had not nature given a commission to this minister for that purpose~ the grass would destroy a great number of species of vegetables, of which the equilibrium is now kept up." [5]

In the above passage allusion is made to the ravages committed in 1740, and the two following years, in many provinces of Sweden, by a most destructive insect. The same moth is said never to touch the fox-tail grass, [6] so that it may be classed as a most active ally and benefactor of that species, and as peculiarly instrumental in preserving it in its present abundance. A discovery of Rolander, cited in the treatise of Wilcke above-mentioned, affords a good illustration of the checks and counterchecks which nature has appointed to preserve the balance of power amongst species. "The Phalaena strobilella has the fir cone assigned to it to deposit its eggs upon; the young caterpillars coming out of the shell consume the cone and superfluous seed; but lest the destruction should be too general, the Ichneumon strobilellae lays its eggs in the caterpillar, inserting its long tail in the openings of the cone till it touches the included insect, for its body is too large to enter. Thus it fixes its minute egg upon the caterpillar, which being hatched destroys it." [7]

Entomologists enumerate many parallel cases where insects, appropriated to certain plants, are kept down by other insects, and these again by parasites expressly appointed to prey on them. [8] Few, perhaps, are in the habit of duly appreciating the extent to which insects are active in preserving the balance of species among plants, and thus regulating indirectly the relative numbers of many of the higher orders of terrestrial animals.

The peculiarity of their agency consists in their power of suddenly multiplying their numbers, to a degree which could only be accomplished in a considerable lapse of time in any of the larger animals, and then as instantaneously relapsing, without the intervention of any violent disturbing cause, into their former insignificance.

If for the sake of employing, on different but rare occasions, a power of many hundred horses, we were under the necessity of feeding all these animals at great cost in the intervals when their services were not required, we should greatly admire the invention of a machine, such as the steam-engine, which was capable, at any moment, of exerting the same degree of strength without any consumption of food during periods of inaction. The same kind of admiration is strongly excited when we contemplate the powers of insect life, in the creation of which nature has been so prodigal. A scanty number of minute individuals, only to be detected by careful research, are ready in a few days, weeks, or months, to give birth to myriads which may repress any degree of monopoly in another species, or remove nuisances, such as dead carcasses, which might taint the air. But no sooner has the destroying commission been executed, than the gigantic power becomes dormant-each of the mighty host soon reaches the term of its transient existence, and the season arrives when the whole species passes naturally into the egg, and thence into the larva and pupa state. In this defenceless condition it may be destroyed either by the elements, or by the augmentation of some of its numerous foes which may prey upon it in these stages of its transformation; or it often happens that, in the following year, the season proves unfavourable to the hatching of the eggs or the development of the pupae.

Thus the swarming myriads depart which may have covered the vegetation like the aphides, or darkened the air like locusts. In almost every season there are some species which in this manner put forth their strength, and then, like Milton's spirits which thronged the spacious hall, "reduce to smallest forms their shapes immense" --

----- So thick the aery crowd
Swarm'd and were straiten'd; till, the signal given,
Behold a wonder! they but now who seem'd
In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons,
Now less than smallest dwarfs.


A few examples will illustrate the mode in which this force operates. I t is well known that among the countless species of the insect creation, some feed on animal, others on vegetable matter, and, upon considering a catalogue of eight thousand British insects and arachnidae, Mr. Kirby found that these two divisions were nearly a counterpoise to each other, the carnivorous being somewhat preponderant. There are also distinct species, some appointed to consume living, others dead or putrid animal and vegetable substances. One female, of Musca carnaria, will give birth to twenty thousand young; and the larvae of many flesh-flies devour so much food in twenty-four hours, and grow so quickly, as to increase their weight two hundredfold! In five days after being hatched they arrive at their full growth and size, so that there was ground, says Kirby, for the assertion of Linnaeus, that three flies of M. vomitoria could devour a dead horse as quickly as a lion; [9] and another Swedish naturalist remarks, that so great are the powers of propagation of a single species, even of the smallest insects, that each can commit, when required, more ravages than the elephant. [10]

Next to locusts, the aphides, perhaps, exert the greatest power over the vegetable world, and, like them, are sometimes so numerous as to darken the air. The multiplication of these little creatures is without parallel, and almost every plant has its peculiar species. Reaumur has proved, that in five generations one aphis may be the progenitor of 5,904,900,000 descendants; and it is supposed that in one year there may be twenty generations. [11] Mr. Curtis [12] observes, that as among caterpillars we find some that are constantly and unalterably attached to one or more particular species of plants, and others that feed indiscriminately on most sorts of herbage, so it is precisely with the aphides; some are particular, others more general feeders; and as they resemble other insects in this respect, so they do also in being more abundant in some years than others. In 1793 they were the chief, and in 1798 the sole cause of the failure of the hops. In 1794, a season almost unparalleled for drought, the hop was perfectly free from them, while peas and beans, especially the former, suffered very much from their depredations.

The ravages of the caterpillars of some of our smaller moths afford a good illustration of the temporary increase of a species. The oak- trees of a considerable wood have been stripped of their leaves as bare as in winter, by the caterpillars of 8. small green moth (Tortrix irridana,) which has been observed the year following not to abound. [13] The Gamma moth (Plusia gamma), although one of our common species, is not dreaded by us for its devastations, but legions of their caterpillars have, at times, created alarm in France, as in 1735. Reaumur observes, that the female moth lays about four hundred eggs; so that if twenty caterpillars were distributed in a garden, and all lived through the winter and became moths in the succeeding May, the eggs laid by these, if all fertile, would produce eight hundred thousand. [14] A. modern writer, therefore, justly observes, that did not Providence put causes in operation to keep them in due bounds, the caterpillars of this moth alone, leaving out of consideration the two thousand other British species, would soon destroy more than half of our vegetation. [15]

In the latter part of the last century an ant, most destructive to the sugar-cane (Formica saccharivora), appeared in such infinite hosts, in the island of Grenada, as to put a stop to the cultivation of that vegetable. Their numbers were incredible. The plantations and roads were filled with them; many domestic quadrupeds, together with rats, mice, and reptiles, and even birds, perished in consequence of this plague. It was not till 1780 that they were at length annihilated by torrents of rain, which accompanied a dreadful hurricane. [16]

We may conclude by mentioning some instances of the devastations of locusts in various countries. Among other parts of Africa, Cyrenaica has been at different periods infested by myriads of these creatures, which have consumed nearly every green thing. The effect of the havoc committed by them may be estimated by the famine they occasioned. St. Augustin mentions a plague of this kind in Africa which destroyed no less than eight hundred thousand men in the kingdom of Masanissa alone, and many more upon the territories bordering upon the sea. It is also related, that in the year 591 an infinite army of locusts migrated from Africa into Italy, and, after grievously ravaging the country, were cast into the sea, when there arose a pestilence from their stench which carried off nearly a million of men and beasts.

In the Venetian territory also, in 1478, more than thirty thousand persons are said to have perished in a famine, occasioned by this scourge; and other instances are recorded of their devastations in France, Spain, Italy, Germany, &c. In different parts of Russia also, Hungary, and Poland,-in Arabia and India, and other countries, their visitations have been periodically experienced. Although they have a preference for certain plants, yet, when these are consumed, they will attack almost all the remainder. In the accounts of the invasions of locusts, the statements which appear most marvellous relate to the prodigious mass of matter which encumbers the sea wherever they are blown into it, and the pestilence arising from its putrefaction. Their dead bodies are said to have been, in some places, heaped one upon another, to the depth of four feet, in Russia, Poland, and Lithuania; and when in southern Africa they were driven into the sea by a north-west wind, they formed, says Barrow, along the shore, for fifty miles, a bank three or four feet high. [17] But when we consider that forests are stripped of their foliage, and the earth of its green garment, for thousands of square miles, it may well be supposed that the volume of animal matter produced may equal that of great herds of quadrupeds and flights of large birds suddenly precipitated into the sea.

The occurrence of such events at certain intervals, in hot countries, like the severe winters and damp summers returning after a series of years in the temperate zone, affect the proportional numbers of almost all classes of animals and plants, and are probably fatal to the existence of many which would otherwise thrive there, while, on the contrary, they must be favourable to certain species which, if deprived of such aid, might not maintain their ground.

Although it may usually be remarked that the extraordinary increase of some one species is immediately followed and checked by the multiplication of another, yet this is not always the case, partly because many species feed in common on the same kinds of food, and partly because many kinds of food are often consumed indifferently by one and the same species. In the former case, where a variety of different animals have precisely the same taste, as, for example, when many insectivorous birds and reptiles devour alike some particular fly or beetle, the unusual numbers of the latter may only cause a slight and almost imperceptible augmentation of each of those species of bird and reptile. In the other instance, where one animal preys on others of almost every class, as, for example, where our English buzzards devour not only small quadrupeds, as rabbits and field-mice, but also birds, frogs, lizards, and insects, the profusion of anyone of these last may cause all such general feeders to subsist more exclusively upon the species thus in excess, and the balance may thus be restored.

The number of species which are nearly omnivorous is considerable; and although every animal has, perhaps, a predilection for some one description of food rather than another, yet some are not even confined to one of the great kingdoms of the organic world. Thus when the racoon of the West Indies can neither procure fowls, fish, snails, nor insects, it will attack the sugar-canes, and devour various kinds of grain. The civets, when animal food is scarce, maintain themselves on fruits and roots.

Numerous birds, which feed indiscriminately on insects and plants, are perhaps more instrumental than any other of the terrestrial tribes in preserving a constant equilibrium between the relative numbers of different classes of animals and vegetables. If the insects become very numerous and devour the plants, these birds will immediately derive a larger portion of their subsistence from insects, just as the Arabians, Syrians, and Hottentots feed on locusts, when the locusts devour their crops.

The intimate relation of the inhabitants of the water to those of the land, and the influence exerted by each on the relative number of species, must not be overlooked amongst the complicated causes which determine the existence of animals and plants in certain regions. A large proportion of the amphibious quadrupeds and reptiles prey partly on aquatic plants and animals, and in part on terrestrial; and a deficiency of one kind of prey causes them to have immediate recourse to the other. The voracity of certain insects, as the dragon-fly, for example, is confined to the water during one stage of their transformations, and in their perfect state to the air. Innumerable water- birds both of rivers and seas derive in like manner their food indifferently from either element; so that the abundance or scarcity of prey in one induces them either to forsake or more constantly to haunt the other. Thus an intimate connexion between the state of the animate creation in a lake or river, and in the adjoining dry land, is maintained; or between a continent, with its lakes and rivers, and the ocean. It is well known that many birds migrate, during stormy seasons, from the sea-shore into the interior, in search of food; while others, on the contrary, urged by like wants, forsake their inland haunts, and live on substances rejected by the tide.

The migrations of fish into rivers during the spawning season supplies another link of the same kind. Suppose the salmon to be reduced in numbers by some marine foes, as by seals and grampuses, the consequence must often be, that in the course of a few years the otters at the distance of several hundred miles inland will be lessened in number from the scarcity of fish. On the other hand, if there be a dearth of food for the young fry of the salmon in rivers and estuaries~ so that few return to the sea, the sand-eels and other marine species, which are usually kept down by the salmon, will swarm in greater profusion.

It is unnecessary to accumulate a greater number of illustrations in order to prove that the stations of different plants and animals depend on a great complication of circumstances, -- on an immense variety of relations in the state of the animate and inanimate worlds. Every plant requires a certain climate, soil, and other conditions, and often the aid of many animals, in order to maintain its ground. Many animals feed on certain plants, being often restricted to a small number, and sometimes to one only; other members of the animal kingdom feed on plant-eating species, and thus become dependent on the conditions of the stations not only of their prey, but of the plants consumed by them.

Having duly reflected on the nature and extent of these mutual relations in the different parts of the organic and inorganic worlds, we may next proceed to examine the results which may be anticipated from the fluctuations now continually in progress in the state of the earth's surface, and in the geographical distribution of its living productions.

_______________

Notes:

1. De terra habitabili incremento; also Prichard, Phys. Hist. of Mankind, vol. i. p. 11, where the hypotheses of different naturalists are enumerated.

2. Necker, Phytozool. Philosoph., p. 21. Brocchi, Conch. Foss. Subap., tome i., p. 229.

3. Wilckel Amoen. Acad., vol. vi., p. 17, § 12.

4. Ibid., vol. vii., 409.

5. Wilcke, Amoen. Acad., vol. vi., p. 17, § 11 and 12.

6. Kirby and Spence, vol. i., p. 178.

7. Wilcke, ibid., § 14.

8. Kirby and Spence, vol. iv., p. 218.

9. Kirby and Spence, vol. i., p. 250.

10. Wilcke, Amoen. Acad., chap. ii.

11. Kirby and Spence, vol. i., p. 174.

12. Trans. Linn. Soc., vol. vi.

13. Lib. Ent. Know., Insect Trans., p. 203. See Haworth Lep.

14. Reaumur, ii. 237.

15. Lib. Ent. Know., Insect Trans., p. 212.

16. Kirby and Spence, vol. i., p. 183. Castle, Phil. Trans., xxx., 346.

17. Travels in Africa, p. 257. Kirby and Spence, vol. i., p.215.
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Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

Postby admin » Fri Jul 17, 2015 1:38 am

CHAPTER 9

The circumstances which constitute the Stations of Animals are changeable – Extension of the range of one species alters the condition of others – Supposed effects which may have followed the first entrance of the Polar Bears into Iceland – The first appearance of a new species in a region causes the chief disturbance – Changes known to have resulted from the advance of human population – Whether man increases the productive powers of the earth – Indigenous Quadrupeds and Birds of Great Britain known to have been extirpated – Extinction of the Dodo – Rapid propagation of the domestic Quadrupeds over the American Continent – Power of exterminating species no prerogative of Man – Concluding Remarks

WE have seen that the stations of animals and plants depend not merely on the influence of external agents in the inanimate world, and the relations of that influence to the structure and habits of each species, but also on the state of the contemporary living beings which inhabit the same part of the globe. In other words, the possibility of the existence of a certain species in a given locality, or of its thriving more or less therein, is determined not merely by temperature, humidity, soil, elevation, and other circumstances of the like kind, but also by the existence or non-existence, the abundance or scarcity, of a particular assemblage of other plants and animals in the same region.

If we show that both these classes of circumstances, whether relating to the animate or inanimate creation, are perpetually changing, it will follow that species are subject to incessant vicissitudes; and if the result of these mutations, in the course of ages, be so great as materially to affect the general condition of stations, it will follow that the successive destruction of species must now be part of the regular and constant order of Nature.

It will be desirable, first, to consider the effects which every extension of the numbers or geographical range of one species must produce on the condition of others inhabiting the same regions. When the necessary consequences of such extensions have been fully explained, the reader will be prepared to appreciate the important influence which slight modifications in the physical geography of the globe may exert on the condition of organic beings.

In the first place it is clear, that when any region is stocked with as great a variety of animals and plants as the productive powers of that region will enable it to support, the addition of any new species, or the pe1'manent numerical increase of one previously established, must always be attended either by the local extermination or the numerical decrease of some other species.

There may undoubtedly be considerable fluctuations from year to year, and the equilibrium may be again restored without any permanent alteration; for in particular seasons a greater supply of heat, humidity, or other causes may augment the total quantity of vegetable produce, in which case all the animals subsisting on vegetable food, and others which prey on them, may multiply without anyone species giving way; but whenever the aggregate quantity of vegetable produce remains unaltered, the progressive increase of one animal or plant implies the decline of another.

All agriculturists and gardeners are familiar with the fact, that when weeds intrude themselves into the space appropriated to cultivated species, the latter are starved in their growth or stifled. If we abandon for a short time a field or garden, a host of indigenous plants,

The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory,


pour in and obtain the mastery, extirpating the exotics, or putting an end to the monopoly of some native plants.

If we inclose a park, and stock it with as many deer as the herbage will support, we cannot add sheep without lessening the number of the deer; nor can other herbivorous species be subsequently introduced, unless the individuals of each species in the park become fewer in proportion.

So if there be an island where leopards are the only beasts of prey, and the lion, tiger, and hyaena afterwards enter, the leopards, if they stand their ground, will be reduced in number. If the locusts then arrive and swarm greatly, it may deprive a large number of phytophagous animals of their food, and thereby cause a famine, not only among them, but among the beasts of prey; -- certain species, perhaps, which had the weakest footing in the island will thus be annihilated.

We have seen how many distinct geographical provinces there are of aquatic and terrestrial species, and how great are the powers of migration conferred on different classes, whereby the inhabitants of one region may be enabled from time to time to invade another, and do actually so migrate and diffuse themselves over new countries. Now, although our knowledge of the history of the animate creation dates from so recent a period, that we can scarcely trace the advance or decline of any animal or plant, except in those cases where the influence of man has intervened, yet we can easily conceive what must happen when some new colony of wild animals or plants enters a region for the first time, and succeeds in establishing itself.

Let us consider how great are the devastations committed at certain periods by the Greenland bears, when they are drifted to the shores of Iceland in considerable numbers on the ice. These periodical invasions are formidable even to man; so that when the bears arrive, the inhabitants collect together, and go in pursuit of them with fire-arms -- each native who slays one being rewarded by the king of Denmark. The Danes of old, when they landed in their marauding expeditions upon our coast, hardly excited more alarm; nor did our islanders muster more promptly for the defence of their lives and property against a common enemy, than the modern Icelanders against these formidable brutes. It frequently happens, says Henderson, that the natives are pursued by the bear when he has been long at sea, and when his natural ferocity has been strengthened by the keenness of hunger; if unarmed, it is frequently by stratagem only that they make their escape. [1]

Let us cast our thoughts back to the period when the first polar bears reached Iceland, before it was colonized by the Norwegians in 874; -- we may imagine the breaking up of an immense barrier of ice, like that which, in 1816 and the following year, disappeared from the east coast of Greenland, which it had surrounded for four centuries. By the aid of such means of transportation, a great number of these quadrupeds might effect a landing at the same time, and the havoc which they would make among the species previously settled in the island would be terrific. The deer, foxes, seals, and even birds, on which these animals sometimes prey, would be soon thinned down.

But this would be a part only, and probably an insignificant portion, of the aggregate amount of change brought about by the new invader. The plants on which the deer fed being less consumed in consequence of the lessened numbers of that herbivorous species, would soon supply more food to several insects, and probably to some terrestrial testacea, so that the latter would gain ground. The increase of these would furnish other insects and birds with food, so that the numbers of these last would be augmented. The diminution of the seals would afford a respite to some fish which they had persecuted; and these fish, in their turn, would then multiply and press upon their peculiar prey. Many water-fowls, the eggs and young of which are devoured by foxes, would increase when the foxes were thinned down by the bears; and the fish on which the water-fowls subsisted would then, in their turn, be less numerous. Thus the numerical proportions of a great number of the inhabitants, both of the land and sea, might be permanently altered by the settling of one new species in the region; and the changes caused indirectly might ramify through all classes of the living creation, and be almost endless.

An actual illustration of what we have here only proposed hypothetically, is in some degree afforded by the selection of small islands by the eider duck for its residence during the season of incubation; its nests being seldom, if ever, found on the shores of the main land, or even of a large island. The Icelanders are so well aware of this, that they have expended a great deal of labour in forming artificial islands, by separating from the main-land certain promontories, joined to it by narrow isthmuses. This insular position is necessary to guard against the destruction of the eggs and young birds, by foxes, dogs, and other animals. One year, says Hooker, [2] it happened that, in the small island of Vidoc, adjoining the coast of Iceland, a fox got over upon the ice, and caused great alarm, as an immense number of ducks were then sitting on their eggs or young ones. It was long before he was taken, which was at last, however, effected by bringing another fox. to the island, and fastening it by a string near the haunt of the former, by which he was allured within shot of the hunter.

It is usually the first appearance of an animal or plant, in a region to which it was previously a stranger, that gives rise to the chief alteration; since, after a time, an equilibrium is again established. But it must require ages before such a new adjustment of the relative forces of so many conflicting agents can be definitively settled. The causes in simultaneous action are so numerous, that .they admit of an almost infinite number of combinations; and it is necessary that all these should have occurred once before the total amount of change, capable of flowing from any new disturbing force, can be estimated.

Thus, for example, suppose that once in two centuries a frost of unusual intensity, or a volcanic eruption of immense violence, accompanied by floods from the melting of glaciers, should occur in Iceland, or an epidemic disease, fatal to the larger number of individuals of some one species, and not affecting others, -- these, and a variety of other contingencies, all of which may occur at once, or at periods separated by different intervals of time, ought to happen before it would be possible for us to declare what ultimate alteration the presence of any new comer, such as the bear before mentioned, might occasion in the animal population of the isle.

Every new condition in the state of the organic or inorganic creation, a new animal or plant, an additional snow-clad mountain, any permanent change, however slight in comparison to the whole, gives rise to a new order of things, and may make a material change in regard to some one or more species. Yet a swarm of locusts, or a frost of extreme intensity, may pass away without any great apparent derangement; no species may be lost, and all may soon recover their former relative numbers, because the same scourges may have visited the region, again and again, at some former periods. Every plant that was incapable of resisting such a degree of cold, every animal which was exposed to be entirely cut off by famine, in consequence of the consumption of vegetation by the locusts, may have perished already, so that the subsequent recurrence of similar catastrophes is attended only by a temporary change.

We are best acquainted with the mutations brought about by the progress of human population, and the growth of plants and animals favoured by man. To these, therefore, we should, in the first instance, turn our attention. If we conclude, from the concurrent testimony of history and of the evidence yielded by geological data, that man is, comparatively speaking, of very modern origin, we must at once perceive how great a revolution in the state of the animate world the increase of the human race, considered merely as consumers of a certain quantity of organic matter, must necessarily cause.

It may, perhaps, be said, that man has, in some degree, compensated for the appropriation to himself of so much food, by artificially improving the natural productiveness of soils, by irrigation, manure, and a judicious intermixture of mineral ingredients conveyed from different localities. But it admits of reasonable doubt, whether, upon the whole, we fertilize or impoverish the lands which we occupy. This assertion may seem startling to many, because they are so much in the habit of regarding the sterility or productiveness of land in relation to the wants of man, and not as regards the organic world generally. It is difficult, at first, to conceive, if a morass is converted into arable land, and made to yield a crop of grain, even of moderate abundance, that we have not improved the capabilities of the habitable surface -- that we have not empowered it to support a larger quantity of organic life. In such cases, a tract, before of no utility to man, may be reclaimed and become of high agricultural importance, but it may yield, at the same time, a scantier vegetation. If a lake be drained and turned into a meadow, the space will provide sustenance to man and many terrestrial animals serviceable to him, but not perhaps so much food as it previously yielded to the aquatic races.

If the pestiferous Pontine Marshes were drained and covered with corn, like the plains of the Po, they might, perhaps, feed a smaller number of animals than they do now; for these morasses are filled with of herds of buffaloes and swine, and they swarm with birds, reptiles, and insects.

The felling of dense and lofty forests which covered, even within the records of history, a considerable space on the globe, now tenanted by civilized man, must usually have lessened the amount of vegetable food throughout the space where these woods grew. We must also take into our account the area covered by towns, and a still larger surface occupied by roads.

If we force the soil to bear extraordinary crops one year, we are, perhaps, compelled to let it lie fallow the next. But nothing so much counterbalances the fertilizing effects of human art as the extensive cultivation of foreign herbs and shrubs, which, although they are often more nutritious to man, seldom thrive with the same rank luxuriance as the native plants of a district. Man is, in truth, continually striving to diminish the natural diversity of the stations of animals and plants in every country, and to reduce them all to a small number fitted for species of economical use. He may succeed perfectly in attaining his object, even though the vegetation be comparatively meagre, and the total amount of animal life be greatly lessened.

Spix and Martius have given a lively description of the incredible number of insects which lay waste the crops in Brazil, besides swarms of monkeys, flocks of parrots and other birds, as well as the paca, agouti, and wild swine. They describe the torment which the planter and the naturalist suffer from the musquitoes, and the devastation of the ants and blattae; they speak of the dangers to which they were exposed from the jaguar, the poisonous serpents, lizards, scorpions, centipedes, and spiders. But with the increasing population and cultivation of the country, observe these naturalists, these evils will gradually diminish; when the inhabitants have cut down the woods, drained the marshes, made roads in all directions, and founded villages and towns, man will by degrees triumph over the rank vegetation and the noxious animals, and all the elements will second and amply recompense his activity. [3]

The number of human beings now peopling the earth is supposed to amount to eight hundred millions, so that we may easily understand how great a number of beasts of prey, birds, and animals of every class, this prodigious population must have displaced, independently of the still more important consequences which have followed from the derangement brought about by man in the relative numerical strength of particular species.

Let us make some inquiries into the extent of the influence which the progress of society has exerted, during the last seven or eight centuries, in altering the distribution of our indigenous British animals. Dr. Fleming has prosecuted this inquiry with his usual zeal and ability, and in a memoir [4] on the subject has enumerated the best-authenticated examples of the decrease or extirpation of certain species during a period when our population has made the most rapid advances. We shall offer a brief outline of his results.

The stag, as well as the fallow deer and the roe, were formerly so abundant that, according to Lesley, from five hundred to a thousand were sometimes slain at a hunting-match; but the native races would already have been extinguished, had they not been carefully preserved in certain forests. The otter, the marten, and the polecat, were also in sufficient numbers to be pursued for the sake of their fur; but they have now been reduced within very narrow bounds. The wild cat and fox have also been sacrificed throughout the greater part of the country, for the security of the poultry-yard or the fold. Badgers have been expelled from nearly every district which at former periods they inhabited.

Besides these, which have been driven out from some haunts, and everywhere reduced in number, there are some which have been wholly extirpated; such as the ancient breed of indigenous horses, the wild boar, and the wild oxen, of' which last, however, a few remains are still preserved in the parks of some of our nobility. The beaver, which was eagerly sought after for its fur, had become scarce at the close of the ninth century, and, by the twelfth century, was only to be met with, according to Giraldus de Barri, in one river in Wales, and another in Scotland. The wolf, once so much dreaded by our ancestors, is said to have maintained its ground in Ireland so late as the beginning of the eighteenth century (1710), though it had been extirpated in Scotland thirty years before, and in England at a much earlier period. The bear, which in Wales was regarded as a beast of the chace equal to the hare or the boar, [5] only perished as a native of Scotland in the year 1057. [6]

Many native birds of prey have also been the subjects of unremitting persecution. The eagles, larger hawks, and ravens, have disappeared from the more cultivated districts. The haunts of the mallard, the snipe, the redshank, and the bittern, have been drained equally with the summer dwellings of the lapwing and the curlew. But these species still linger in some portion of the British isles; whereas the large capercailzies, or wood grouse, formerly natives of the pine-forests of Ireland and Scotland, have been destroyed within the last fifty years. The egret and the crane, which appear to have been formerly very common in Scotland, are now only occasional visitants. [7]

The bustard (Otis tarda), observes Graves in his British Ornithology, [8] "was formerly seen in the downs and heaths oC various parts of our island, in Hocks of forty or fifty birds; whereas it is now a circumstance of rare occurrence to meet with a single individual." Bewick also remarks, "that they were formerly more common in this island than at present; they are now found only in the open counties of the south and east, in the plains of Wiltshire, Dorsetshire, and some parts of Yorkshire." In the few years that have elapsed since Bewick wrote, this bird has entirely disappeared from Wiltshire and Dorsetshire. [9]

These changes, we may observe, are derived from very imperfect memorials, and relate only to the larger and more conspicuous animals inhabiting a small spot on the globe; but they cannot fail to exalt our conception of the enormous revolutions which, in the course of several thousand years, the whole human species must have effected.

The kangaroo and the emu are retreating rapidly before the progress of colonization in Australia; and it scarcely admits of doubt, that the general cultivation of that country must lead to the extirpation of both. The most striking example of the loss, even within the last two centuries, of a remarkable species, is that of the dodo-a bird first seen by the Dutch when they landed on the Isle of France, at that time uninhabited, immediately after the discovery of the passage to the East Indies by the Cape of Good Hope. It was of a large size and singular form; its wings short, like those of an ostrich, and wholly incapable of sustaining its heavy body even for a short flight. In its general appearance it differed from the ostrich, cassowary, or any known bird.

Many naturalists gave figures of the dodo after the commencement of the seventeenth century, and there is a painting of it in the British Museum, which is said to have been taken from a living individual. Beneath the painting is a leg, in a fine state of preservation, which ornithologists are agreed cannot belong to any other known bird. In the museum at Oxford, also, there is a foot and a head, in an imperfect state, but M. Cuvier doubts the identity of this species with that of which the painting is preserved in London. [10]

In spite of the most active search, during the last century, no information respecting the dodo was obtained, and some authors have gone so far as to pretend that it never existed; but amongst a great mass of satisfactory evidence in favour of the recent existence of this species, we may mention that an assemblage of fossil bones were recently discovered, under a bed of lava, in the Isle of France, and sent to the Paris museum by M. Desjardins. They almost all belonged to a large living species of land-tortoise, called Testudo Indica, but amongst them were the head, sternum, and humerus of the dodo. M. Cuvier showed me these valuable remains in Paris, and assured me that they left no doubt in his mind that the huge bird was one of the gallinaceous tribe. [11]

Next to the direct agency of man, his indirect influence in multiplying the numbers of large herbivorous quadrupeds of domesticated races, may be regarded as one of the most obvious causes of the extermination of species. On this, and on several other grounds, the introduction of the horse, ox, and other mammalia, into America, and their rapid propagation over that continent within the last three centuries, is a fact of great importance in natural history. The extraordinary herds of wild cattle and horses which overran the plains of South America, sprung from a very few pairs first carried over by the Spaniards; and they prove that the wide geographical range of large species in great continents does not necessarily imply that they have existed there from remote periods. Humboldt observes, in his Travels, [12] on the authority of Azzara, that it is believed there exist, in the Pampas of Buenos Ayres, twelve million cows and three million horses, without comprising in this enumeration the cattle that have no acknowledged proprietor. In the Llanos of Caraccas, the rich hateros, or proprietors of pastoral farms, are entirely ignorant of the number of cattle they possess. The young are branded with a mark peculiar to each herd, and some of the most wealthy owners mark as many as fourteen thousand a year. In the northern plains, from the Orinoco to the lake of Maracaybo, M. Depons reckoned that one million two hundred thousand oxen, one hundred and eighty thousand horses, and ninety thousand mules, wandered at large. [13] In some parts of the valley of the Mississippi, especially in the country of the Osage Indians, wild horses are immensely numerous.

The establishment of black cattle in America dates from Columbus's second voyage to St. Domingo. They there multiplied rapidly; and that island presently became a kind of nursery from which these animals were successively transported to various parts of the continental coast, and from thence into the interior. Notwithstanding these numerous exportations, in twenty-seven years after the discovery of the island, herds of four thousand head, as we learn from Oviedo, were not uncommon, and there were even some that amounted to eight thousand. In 1587, the number of hides exported from St. Domingo alone, according to Acosta's report, was thirty-five thousand four hundred and forty-four; and in the same year there were exported sixty-four thousand three hundred and fifty from the ports of New Spain. This was in the sixty-fifth year after the taking of Mexico, previous to which event the Spaniards, who came into that country, had not been able to engage in anything else than war. [14]

All our readers are aware that these animals are now established throughout the American continent, from Canada to Paraguay.

The ass has thriven very generally in the New World; and we learn from Ulloa, that in Quito they ran wild, and multi plied in amazing numbers, so as to become a nuisance. They grazed together in herds, and, when attacked, defended themselves with their mouths. If a horse happened to stray into the places where they fed, they all fell upon him, and did not cease biting and kicking till they left him dead. [15]

The first hogs were carried to America by Columbus, and established in the island of St. Domingo the year following its discovery in November, 1493. In succeeding years they were introduced into other places where the Spaniards settled; and, in the space of half a century, they were found established in the New World, from the latitude of 25° north, to the 40th degree of south latitude. Sheep, also, and goats have multiplied enormously in the New World, as have also the cat and the rat, which last, as we before stated, has been imported unintentionally in ships. The dogs introduced by man, which have at different periods become wild in America, hunted in packs like the wolf and the jackal, destroying not only hogs, but the calves and foals of the wild cattle and horses.

Ulloa in his voyage, and Buffon on the authority of old writers, relate a fact which illustrates very clearly the principle before explained by us, of the check which the increase of one animal necessarily offers to that of another. The Spaniards had introduced goats into the island of Juan Fernandez, where they became so prolific as to furnish the pirates who infested those seas with provisions. In order to cut off this resource from the buccaneers, a number of dogs were turned loose into the island; and so numerous did they become in their turn, that they destroyed the goats in every accessible part, after which the number of the wild dogs again decreased. [16]

As an example of the rapidity with which a large tract may become peopled by the offspring of a single pair of quadrupeds, we may mention, that in the year 1773 thirteen rein-deer were exported from Norway, only three of which reached Iceland. These were turned loose into the mountains of Guldbringe Syssel, where they multiplied so greatly, in the course of forty years, that it was not uncommon to meet with herds consisting of from forty to one hundred in various districts.

In Lapland, observes a modern writer, the rein-deer is a loser by his connexion with man, but Iceland will be this creature's paradise. There is, in the interior, a tract which Sir G. Mackenzie computes at not less than forty thousand square miles, without a single human habitation, and almost entirely unknown to the natives themselves. There are no wolves; the Icelanders will keep out the bears; and the rein-deer, being almost unmolested by man, will have no enemy whatever, unless it has brought with it its own tormenting gad-fly. [17]

Besides the quadrupeds before enumerated by us, our domestic fowls have also succeeded in the West Indies and America, where they have the common fowl, the goose, the duck, the peacock, the pigeon, and the guinea-fowl. As these were often taken suddenly from the temperate to very hot regions, they were not reared at first without much difficulty; but after a few generations they became familiarized to the climate, which, in many cases, approached much nearer than that of Europe to the temperature of their original native countries.

The fact of so many millions of wild and tame individuals of our domestic species, almost all of them the largest quadrupeds and birds, having been propagated throughout the new continent within the short period that has elapsed since the discovery of America, while no appreciable improvement can have been made in the productive powers 'of that vast continent, affords abundant evidence of the extraordinary changes which accompany the diffusion and progressive advancement of the human race over the globe. That it should have remained for us to witness such mighty revolutions is a proof, even if there was no other evidence, that the entrance of man into the planet is, comparatively speaking, of extremely modern date, and that the effects of his agency are only beginning to be felt.

A modern writer has estimated, that there are in America upwards of four million square miles of useful soil, each capable of supporting two hundred persons; and nearly six million, each mile capable of supporting four hundred and ninety persons. [18] If this conjecture be true, it will follow, as that author observes, that if the natural resources of America were fully developed, it would afford sustenance to five times as great a number of inhabitants as the entire mass of human beings existing at present upon the globe. The new continent, he thinks, though less than half the size of the old, contains an equal quantity of useful soil, and much more than an equal amount of productive power. Be this as it may, we may safely conclude that the amount of human population now existing, constitutes but a small proportion of that which the globe is capable of supporting, or which it is destined to sustain at no distant period, by the rapid progress of society, especially in America, Australia, and certain parts of the old continent.

But if we reflect that already many millions of square miles of the most fertile land, occupied originally by a boundless variety of animal and vegetable forms, have been already brought under the dominion of man, and compelled, in a great measure, to yield nourishment to him, and to a limited number of plants and animals which he has caused to increase, we must at once be convinced, that the annihilation of a multitude of species has already been effected, and will continue to go on hereafter, in certain regions, in a still more rapid ratio, as the colonies of highly-civilized nations spread themselves over unoccupied lands.

Yet, if we wield the sword of extermination as we advance, we have no reason to repine at the havoc committed, nor to fancy, with the Scotch poet, that "we violate the social union of nature;" or complain, with the melancholy Jaques, that we

Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and, what's worse,
To fright the animals, and to kill them up
In their assign'd and native dwelling-place.


We have only to reflect, that in thus obtaining possession of the earth by conquest, and defending our acquisitions by force, we exercise no exclusive prerogative. Every species which has spread itself from a small point over a wide area, must, in like manner, have marked its progress by the diminution, or the entire extirpation, of some other, and must maintain its ground by a successful struggle against the encroachments of other plants and animals. That minute parasitic plant, called " the rust" in wheat, has, like the Hessian fly, the locust, and the aphis, caused famines ere now amongst the "lords of the creation." The most insignificant and diminutive species, whether in the animal or vegetable kingdom, have each slaughtered their thousands, as they disseminated themselves over the globe, as well as the lion, when first it spread itself over the tropical regions of Africa.

We cannot conclude this division of our subject without observing, that although we have as yet considered one class only of the causes (the organic) whereby species may become exterminated, yet the continued action of these alone, throughout myriads of future ages, must work an entire change in the state of the organic creation, not merely on the continents and islands, where the power of man is chiefly exerted, but in the great ocean, where his control is almost unknown. The mind is prepared by the contemplation of such future revolutions to look for the signs of others, of an analogous nature, in the monuments of the past. Instead of being astonished at the proofs there manifested of endless mutations in the animate world, they will appear to one who has thought profoundly on the fluctuations now in progress, to afford evidence in favour of the uniformity of the system, unless, indeed, we are precluded from speaking of uniformity when we characterize a principle of endless variation.

_______________

Notes:

1. Journal of a Residence in Iceland, p. 276.

2. Tour in Iceland, vol. i., p. 64, second edition.

3. Travels in Brazil, vol. i., p. 260.

4. Ed. Phil. Journ., No. xxii., p. 287. Oct. 1824.

5. Ray, Syn. Quad., p. 214.

6. Ibid., p. 295.

7. Fleming, Syn. Quad., p. 295.

8. Vol. iii. London, 1821.

9. Land Birds, vol. i., p. 316, Ed. 1821.

10. Some have complained that inscriptions on tomb-stones convey no general information except that individuals were born and died, accidents which must happen alike to all men. But the death of a species is so remarkable an event in natural history, that it deserves commemoration, and it is with no small interest that we learn, from the archives of the University of Oxford, the exact day and year when the remains of the last specimen of the dodo, which had rotted in the Ashmolean museum, were cast away. The relics, we are told, were "a Musaeo subducta, annuente Vice-cancellario aliisque curatoribus, ad ea lustranda convocatis, die Januarii, 8vo., A.D., 1755." Zoot Journ., No. 12, p. 559. 1828.

11. Sur quelques Ossemens, &c. Ann. des Sci., tome xxi., p. 103. Sept. 1830.

12. Pers. Nar., vol. iv.

13. Quarterly Review, vol. xxi., p. 335.

14. Quarterly Review, vol. xxi., p. 335.

15. Ulloa's Voyage. Wood's Zoog., vol. i., p. 9.

16. Buffon, vol. v., p. 100. Ulloa's Voyage, vol., ii., p. 220.

17. Travels in Iceland in 1810, p. 342.

18. Maclaren, Art. America. Encyc. Britannica.
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Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

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CHAPTER 10

Influence of inorganic causes in changing the habitations of species – Powers of diffusion indispensable, that each species may maintain its ground – How changes in the physical geography affect the distribution of species – Rate of the change of species cannot be uniform, however regular the action of the inorganic causes – Illustration derived from subsidences by earthquakes – From the elevation of land by the same – From the formation of new islands – From the wearing through of an isthmus – Each change in the physical geography of large regions must occasion the extinction of species – Effects of a general alteration of climate on the migration of species – Gradual refrigeration causes species in the northern and southern hemispheres to become distinct – Elevation of temperature the reverse – Effects in the distribution of species which must result from vicissitudes in climate inconsistent with the theory of transmutation

HAVING shown in the last chapter how considerably the numerical increase or the extension of the geographical range of anyone species must derange the numbers and distribution of others, let us now direct our attention to the influence which the inorganic causes described in our first volume are continually exerting on the habitations of species.

So great is the instability of the earth's surface, that if Nature were not continually engaged in the task of sowing seeds and colonizing animals, the depopulation of a certain portion of the habitable sea and land would in a few years be considerable. Whenever a river transports sediment into a lake or sea, the aquatic animals and plants which delight in deep water are expelled: the tract, however, is not allowed to remain useless, but is soon peopled by species which require more light and heat, and thrive where the water is shallow. Every addition made to the land by the encroachment of the delta of a river banishes many subaqueous species from their native abodes; but the new-formed plain is not permitted to lie unoccupied, being instantly covered with terrestrial vegetation. The ocean devours continuous lines of sea-coast, and precipitates forests or rich pasture-land into the waves; but this space is not lost to the animate creation, for shells and seaweed soon adhere to the new-made cliffs, and numerous fish people the channel which the current has scooped out for itself. No sooner has a volcanic isle been thrown up than some lichens begin to grow upon it, and it is sometimes clothed with verdure, while smoke and ashes are still occasionally thrown from the crater. The cocoa, pandanus, and mangrove take root upon the coral reef before it has fairly risen above the waves. The burning stream of lava that descends from Etna rolls through the stately forest, and converts to ashes every tree and herb which stand in its way;. but the black strip of land thus desolated, is covered again, in the course of time, with oaks, pines, and chestnuts, as luxuriant as those which the fiery torrent swept away.

Every flood and landslip, every wave which a hurricane or earthquake throws upon the shore, every shower of volcanic dust and ashes which buries a country far and wide to the depth of many feet, every advance of the sand-Hood, every conversion of salt-water into fresh when rivers alter their main channel of discharge, every permanent variation in the rise or fall of tides in an estuary-these and countless other causes displace in the course of a few centuries certain plants and animals from stations which they previously occupied. If, therefore, the Author of Nature had not been prodigal of those numerous contrivances before alluded to, for spreading all classes of organic beings over the earth -- if he had not ordained that the fluctuations of the animate and inanimate creation should be in perfect harmony with each other, it is evident that considerable spaces, now the most habitable on the globe, would soon be as devoid of life as are the Alpine snows, or the dark abysses of the ocean, or the moving sands of the Sahara.

The powers then of migration and diffusion conferred on animals and plants, are indispensable to enable them to maintain their ground, and would be necessary even though it were never intended that a species should gradually extend its geo graphical range. But a facility of shifting their quarters being once given, it cannot fail to happen that the inhabitants of one province should occasionally penetrate into some other, since the strongest of those barriers which we before described as separating distinct regions, are all liable to be thrown down one after the other, during the vicissitudes of the earth's surface.

The numbers and distribution of particular species are affected in two ways, by changes in the physical geography of the earth. First, these changes promote or retard the migrations of species; secondly, they alter the physical conditions of the localities which species inhabit. If the ocean should gradually wear its way through an isthmus, like that of Suez, it would open a passage for the intermixture of the aquatic tribes of two seas previously disjoined, and would, at the same time, close a free communication which the terrestrial plants and animals of two continents had before enjoyed. These would be, perhaps, the most important consequences in regard to the distribution of species, which would result from the breach made by the sea in such a spot; but there would be others of a distinct nature, such as the conversion of a certain tract of land which formed the isthmus into sea. This space previously occupied by terrestrial plants and animals would be immediately delivered over to the aquatic, a local revolution which might have happened in innumerable other parts of the globe, without being attended by any alteration in the blending together of species of two distinct provinces.

This observation leads us to point out one of the most interesting conclusions to which we are led by the contemplation of the vicissitudes of the inanimate world in relation to those of the animate. It is clear that if the agency of inorganic causes be uniform as we have supposed, they must operate very irregularly on the state of organic beings, so that the rate according to which these will change in particular regions will not be equal in equal periods of time.

We are not about to advocate the doctrine of general catastrophes recurring at certain intervals., as in the ancient oriental cosmogonies, nor do we doubt that if very considerable periods of equal duration could be taken into our consideration and compared one with another, the rate of change in the living, as well as in the inorganic world, would be nearly uniform; but if we regard each of the causes separately, which we know to be at present the most instrumental in remodelling the state of the surface, we shall find that we must expect each to be in action for thousands of years, without producing any extensive alterations in the habitable surface, and then to give rise, during a very brief period, to important revolutions.

We shall illustrate this principle by a few of the most remarkable examples which present themselves. In the course of the last century, as we have before pointed out, a considerable number of instances are recorded of the solid surface, whether covered by water or not, having been permanently sunk or upraised by the power of earthquakes. Most of these convulsions are only accompanied by temporary fluctuations in the state of limited districts, and a continued repetition of these events for thousands of years might not produce any decisive change in the state of many of those great zoological or botanical provinces of which we have sketched the boundaries.

When, for example, large parts of the ocean and even of inland seas are a thousand fathoms or upwards in depth it is a matter of no moment to the animate creation that vast tracts should be heaved up many fathoms at certain intervals, or should subside to the same amount. Neither can any material revolution be produced in South America either in the terrestrial or the marine plants or animals by a series of shocks on the coast of Chili, each of which, like that of Penco, in 1750, should uplift the coast about twenty-five feet. Nor if the ground sinks fifty feet at a time, as in the harbour of Port Royal, in Jamaica, in 1692, will such alterations of level work any general fluctuations in the state of organic beings inhabiting the West India islands, or the Caribbean Sea.

It is only when these subterranean powers, by shifting gradually the points where their principal force is developed, happen to strike upon some particular region where a slight change of level immediately affects the distribution of land and water, or the state of the climate, or the barriers between distinct groups of species over extensive areas, that the rate of fluctuation becomes accelerated, and may, in the course of a few years or centuries, work mightier changes than had been experienced in myriads of antecedent years.

Thus, for example, a repetition of subsidences causing the narrow isthmus of Panama to sink down a few hundred feet, might in a few centuries bring about a great revolution in the state of the animate creation in the western hemisphere. Thousands of aquatic species would pass for the first time from the Caribbean Sea into the Pacific; and thousands of others, before peculiar to the Pacific ocean, would make their way into the Caribbean Sea, the Gulf of Mexico, and the Atlantic. A considerable modification would probably be occasioned by the same event in the direction or volume of the Gulf-stream, and thereby the temperature of the sea and the contiguous lands would be altered as far as the influence of that current extends. A change of climate might thus be produced in the ocean from Florida to Spitzbergen, and in many countries of North America, Europe, and Greenland. Not merely the heat, but the quantity of rain which falls would be altered in certain districts, so that many species would be excluded from tracts where they before flourished; others would be reduced in number; and some would thrive more and multiply. The seeds also and the fruits of plants would no longer be drifted in precisely the same directions, nor the eggs of aquatic animals; neither would species be any longer impeded in their migrations towards particular stations before shut out from them by their inability to cross the mighty current.

Let us take another example from a part of the globe which is at present liable to suffer by earthquakes, viz., the low sandy tract which intervenes between the sea of Azof and the Caspian. If there should occur a sinking down to a trifling amount, and such ravines should be formed as might be pro duced by a few earthquakes, not more considerable than have fallen within our limited observation during the last one hundred and forty years, the waters of the sea of Azof would pour rapidly into the Caspian, which, according to the lowest estimate, is fifty feet lower than the level of the Black Sea, and which, according to some writers of considerable authority, is one hundred and fifty feet, -- according to others, three hundred feet below the level of the Sea of Azof. [1] The latter sea would immediately borrow from the Euxine, the Euxine from the Mediterranean, and the Mediterranean from the Atlantic, so that an inexhaustible current would pour down into the low tracts of Asia bordering the Caspian, by which all the sandy salt steppes adjacent to that sea would be inundated.

The diluvial waters would reach the salt lake of Aral, nor stop until their eastern shores were bounded by the high land which in the steppe of the Kirghis connects the Altay with the Himalaya mountains. A few years, perhaps a few months might suffice for the accomplishment of this great revolution in the geography of the interior of Asia; and it is impossible for those who believe in the permanence of the energy with which existing causes now act, not to anticipate such events again and again in the course of future ages.

Let us next imagine a few cases of the elevation of land of small extent at certain critical points, as, for example, in the shallowest parts of the Straits of Gibraltar, where the soundings from the African to the European side give only two hundred and twenty fathoms. In proportion as this submarine barrier of rock was upheaved, to effect which would merely require the shocks of partial and confined earthquakes, the volume of water which pours in from the Atlantic into the Mediterranean would be lessened. But the loss of the inland sea by evaporation would remain the same, so that being no longer able to draw on the ocean for a supply sufficient to restore its equilibrium, it must sink, and leave dry a certain portion of land around its borders. The current which now Bows constantly out of the Black Sea into the Mediterranean would then rush in more rapidly, and the level of the Mediterranean would be thereby prevented from falling so low; but the level of the Black Sea would, for the same reason, sink, so that when, by a continued series of elevatory movements, the Straits of Gibraltar had become completely closed up, we might expect large and level sandy steppes to surround both the Euxine and Mediterranean, like those occurring at present on the skirts of the Caspian, and the sea of Aral. The geographical range of hundreds of aquatic species 'would be thereby circumscribed, and that of hundreds of terrestrial plants and animals extended.

A line of submarine volcanos crossing the channel of some strait, and gradually choking it up with ashes and lava, might produce a new barrier as effectually as a series of earthquakes; especially if thermal springs, plentifully charged with carbonate of lime, silica, and other mineral ingredients, should promote the rapid multiplication of corals and shells, and cement them together with solid matter precipitated during the intervals between eruptions. Suppose in this manner a stoppage to be caused of the Bahama Channel between the bank of that name and the coast of Florida. This insignificant revolution, confined to a mere spot in the bottom of the ocean, would, by diverting the main current of the Gulf-stream, give rise more effectually than the opening of the Straits of Panama before supposed, to extensive changes in the climate and distribution of animals and plants inhabiting the northern hemisphere.

A repetition of elevatory movements of earthquakes might continue over an area as extensive as Europe, for thousands of ages, at the bottom of the ocean in certain regions, and produce no visible effects; whereas, if they should operate in some shallow parts of the Pacific, amid the coral archipelagos, they would soon give birth to a new continent. Hundreds of volcanic islands may be thrown up and become covered with vegetation, without causing more than local fluctuations in the animate world; but if a chain like the Aleutian archipelago or the Kurile isles, run for a distance of many hundred miles, so as to form an almost uninterrupted communication between two continents, or two distant islands, the migrations of plants, birds, insects, and even of some quadrupeds, may cause in a short time an extraordinary series of revolutions, tending to augment the range of some animals and plants, and to limit that of others. A new archipelago might be formed in the Mediterranean, the Bay of Biscay, and a thousand other localities, and might produce less important events than one rock which should rise up between Australia and Java so placed that winds and currents might cause an interchange of the plants, insects, and birds, of the latter countries.

If we turn from the igneous to the aqueous agents, we find the same tendency to an irregular rate of change, naturally connected with the strictest uniformity in the energy of those causes. When the sea, for example, gradually encroaches upon both sides of a narrow isthmus, as that of Sleswick, separating the North Sea from the Baltic, where, as we stated, the cliffs on both the opposite coasts are wasting away, [2] no material alteration results for thousands of years, save only that there is a progressive conversion of a small strip of land into water. A few feet only, or a few yards, are annually removed; but when at last the partition shall be broken down, and the tides of the ocean shall enter by a direct passage into the inland sea, instead of going by a circuitous route through the Cattegat, a body of salt- water will sweep up as far as the Gulfs of Bothnia and Finland, the waters of which are now brackish, or almost fresh; and this revolution will be attended by the local annihilation of many species.

Similar consequences must have resulted, on a small scale, when the sea opened its way through the isthmus of Staveren in the thirteenth century, forming an union between an inland lake and the ocean, and opening, in the course of one century, a shallow strait more than half as wide as the narrowest part of that which divides England from France.

It will almost seem superfluous, after we have thus traced the important modifications in the condition of living beings which flow from changes of trifling extent, to argue that entire revolutions might be brought about, if the climate and physical geography of the whole globe were greatly altered. Species we have stated are, in general, local, some being confined to extremely small spots, and depending for their existence on a combination of causes which, if they are to be met with elsewhere, occur only in some very remote region. Hence it must happen that when the nature of these localities is changed the species will perish; for it will rarely happen that the cause which alters the character of the district will afford new facilities to the species to establish itself elsewhere.

If we attribute the origin of a great part of the desert of Africa to the gradual progress of moving sands, driven eastward by the westerly winds, we may safely infer that a variety of species must have been annihilated by this cause alone. The sand-flood has been inundating, from time immemorial, the rich lands on the west of the Nile, and we have only to multiply this effect a sufficient number of times, in order to understand how, in the lapse of ages, a whole group of terrestrial animals and plants may become extinct.

This desert, without including Bornou and Darfour, extends, according to the calculation of Humboldt, over one hundred and ninety-four thousand square leagues, an area far more than double that of the Mediterranean, which occupies only seventy-nine thousand eight hundred square leagues. In a small portion of so vast a space, we may infer, from analogy, that there were many peculiar species of plants and animals which must have been banished by the sand, and their habitations invaded by the camel and by birds and insects formed for the arid sands.

There is evidently nothing in the nature of the catastrophe to favour the escape of the former inhabitants to some adjoining province; nothing to weaken, in the bordering lauds, that powerful barrier against emigration -- pre-occupancy. Nor, even if the exclusion of a certain group of species from a given tract were compensated by an extension of their range over a new country, would that circumstance tend to the conservation of species in general; for the extirpation would merely then be transferred to the region so invaded. If it be imagined, for example, that the aboriginal quadrupeds, birds, and other animals of Africa emigrated in consequence of the advance of drift-sand, and colonized Arabia, the indigenous Arabian species must have given way before them, and have been reduced in number or destroyed.

Let us next suppose that, in some central and more elevated parts of the great African desert, the upheaving power of earthquakes should be exerted throughout an immense series of ages, accompanied, at certain intervals, by volcanic eruptions such as gave rise at once, in 1755, to a mountain one thousand seven hundred feet high, on the Mexican plateau. When the continued repetition of these events had caused a mountain-chain, it is obvious that a complete transformation in the state of the climate would be brought about throughout a vast area.

We will imagine the summits of the new chain to rise so as to be covered, like Mount Atlas, for several thousand feet, with snow during a great part of the year. The melting of these snows, during the greatest heat, would cause the rivers to swell in the season when the greatest drought now prevails; the waters, moreover, derived from this source, would always be of lower temperature than the surrounding atmosphere, and would thus contribute to cool the climate. During the numerous earthquakes and volcanic eruptions which would attend the gradual formation of the chain, there would be many floods, caused by the bursting of temporary lakes and by the melting of snows by lava. These inundations would deposit alluvial matter far and wide over the original sands at all levels, as the country assumed various shapes, and was modified again and again by the moving power from below, and the aqueous erosion of the surface above. At length the Sahara would be fertilized, irrigated by rivers and streamlets intersecting it in every direction, and covered by jungle and morasses, so that the animals and plants which now people northern Africa would disappear, and the region would gradually become fitted for the reception of a population of species perfectly dissimilar in their forms, habits, and organization.

There are always some peculiar and characteristic features in the physical geography of each large division of the globe; and on these peculiarities the state of animal and vegetable life is dependent. If, therefore, we admit incessant fluctuations in the physical geography, we must, at the same time, concede the successive extinction of terrestrial and aquatic species to be part of the economy of our system. When some great class of stations is in excess in certain latitudes, as, for example, in wide savannahs, arid sands, lofty mountains, or inland seas, we find a corresponding development of species adapted for such circumstances. In North America, where there is a chain of vast inland lakes of fresh-water, we find an extraordinary abundance and variety of aquatic birds, fresh-water fish, testacea, and small amphibious reptiles, fitted for such a climate. The greater part of these would perish if the lakes were destroyed, -- an event that might be brought about by some of the least of those important revolutions contemplated in geology. It might happen that no fresh-water lakes of corresponding magnitude might then exist on the globe; but if they occurred elsewhere, they might be situated in New Holland, Southern Africa, Eastern Asia, or some region so distant as to be quite inaccessible to the North American species; or they might be situated within the tropics, in a climate uninhabitable by species fitted for a temperate zone; or, finally, we may presume that they would be pre-occupied by indigenous tribes.

To pursue this train of reasoning farther is unnecessary; the reader has only to reflect on what we have said of the habitations and the stations of organic beings in general, and to consider them in relation to those effects which we have contemplated in our first volume as resulting from the igneous and aqueous causes now in action, and he will immediately perceive that, amidst the vicissitudes of the earth's surface, species cannot be immortal, but must perish one after the other, like the individuals which compose them. There is no possibility of escaping from this conclusion, without resorting to some hypothesis as violent as that of Lamarck, who imagined, as we have before seen, that species are each of them endowed with indefinite powers of modifying their organization, in conformity to the endless changes of circumstances to which they are exposed.

Some of the effects which must attend every general alteration of climate are sufficiently peculiar to claim a separate consideration before concluding the present chapter.

We have before stated that, during seasons of extraordinary severity, many northern birds, and, in some countries, many quadrupeds, migrate southwards. If these cold seasons were to become frequent, in consequence of a gradual and general refrigeration of the atmosphere, such migrations would be more and more regular, until, at length, many animals, now confined to the arctic regions, would become the tenants of the temperate zone; while the inhabitants of the latter would approach nearer to the equator. At the same time, many species previously established on high mountains, would begin to descend, in every latitude, towards the middle regions, and those which were confined to the flanks of mountains would make their way into the plains. Analogous changes would also take place in the vegetable kingdom.

If, on the contrary, the heat of the atmosphere be on the increase, the plants and animals of low grounds would ascend to higher levels, the equatorial species would migrate into the temperate zone, and those of the temperate into the arctic circle.

But although some species might thus be preserved, every great change of climate must be fatal to many which can find no place of retreat, when their original habitations become unfit for them. For if the general temperature be on the rise, then is there no cooler region whither the polar species can take refuge; if it be on the decline, then the animals and plants previously established between the tropics have no resource. Suppose the general heat of the atmosphere to in. crease, so that even the arctic region became too warm for the musk-ox and rein-deer, it is clear that they must perish; so, if the torrid zone should lose so much of its heat by the progressive refrigeration of the earth's surface, as to be an unfit habitation for apes, boas, bamboos, and palms, these tribes of animals and plants, or at least most of the species now belonging to them, would become extinct, for there would be no warmer latitudes for their reception.

It will follow, therefore, that as often as the climates of the globe are passing from the extreme of heat to that of cold -- from the summer to the winter of the great year before alluded to by us [3] -- the migratory movement will be directed constantly from the poles towards the equator; and for this reason the species inhabiting parallel latitudes, in the northern and southern hemispheres, must become widely different. For we assume, on grounds before stated, [4] that the original stock of each species is introduced into one spot of the earth only, and, consequently, no species can be at once indigenous in the arctic and antarctic circles.

But when, on the contrary, a series of changes in the physical geography of the globe, or any other supposed cause, occasions an elevation of the general temperature, -- when there is a passage from the winter to one of the vernal or summer seasons of the great cycle of climates, then the order of the migratory movement is inverted. The different species of animals and plants direct their course from the equator towards the poles; and the northern and southern hemispheres may become peopled, to a great degree, by identical species. Such is not the actual state of the inhabited earth, as we have already shown in our sketch of the geographical distribution of its living productions; and this fact adds one more additional proof to a great body of evidence, derived from independent sources, that the general temperature has been cooling down during the epochs which immediately preceded our own.

We do not mean to speculate on the entire transposition of a group of animals and plants from tropical to polar latitudes, or the reverse, as a probable, or even possible, event; for although we believe the mean annual temperature of one zone to be transferrible to another, we know that the same climate cannot be so transferred. Whatever be the general temperature of the earth's surface, comparative equability of heat will characterize the tropical regions, while great periodical variations will belong to the temperate, and still more to the polar latitudes. These, and many other peculiarities connected with heat and light, depend on fixed astronomical causes, such as the motion of the earth and its position in relation to the sun, and not on those fluctuations of its surface, which may influence the general temperature.

Among many obstacles to such extensive transferences of habitations, we must not forget the immense lapse of time required, according to any hypothesis yet suggested, especially that which has appeared to us most feasible, to bring about a considerable change in climate. During a period so vast, the other causes of extirpation, before enumerated by us, would exert so powerful an influence as to prevent all, save a very few hardy species. from passing from equatorial to polar regions, or from the tropics to the pole.

But the power of accommodation to new circumstances is great in certain species, and might enable many to pass from one zone to another, if the mean annual heat of the atmosphere and the ocean were greatly altered. To the marine tribes, especially, such a passage would be possible, for they are less impeded in their migrations, by barriers of land, than are the terrestrial by the ocean. Add to this, that the temperature of the ocean is much more uniform than that of the atmosphere in· vesting the land, so that we may easily suppose that most of the testacea, fish, and other classes, might pass from the equatorial into the temperate regions, if the mean temperature of those regions were transposed, although a second expatriation of these species of tropical origin into the arctic and antarctic circles would probably be impossible.

On the principles above explained, if we found that at some former period, as when, for example, our carboniferous strata were deposited, the same tree-ferns and other plants inhabited the regions now occupied by Europe and Van Dieman's Land, we should suspect that the species in question had, at some antecedent period, inhabited lands within the tropics, and that an increase of the mean annual heat had caused them to emigrate into both the temperate zones. There are no geological data, however, as yet obtained, to warrant the opinion that such identity of species existed in the two hemispheres in the era in question.

Let us now consider more particularly the effect of vicissitudes of climate in causing one species to give way before the increasing numbers of some other.

When temperature forms the barrier which arrests the progress of an animal or plant in a particular direction, the individuals are fewer and less vigorous as they approach the extreme confines of the geographical range of the species. But these stragglers are ready to multiply rapidly on the slightest increase or diminution of heat that may be favourable to them, just as particular insects increase during a hot summer, and certain plants and animals gain ground after a series of congenial seasons.

In almost every district, especially if it be mountainous, there are a variety of species the limits of whose habitations are conterminous, some being unable to proceed farther without encountering too much heat, others too much cold. Individuals, which are thus on the borders of the regions proper to their respective species, are like the out-posts of hostile armies, ready to profit by every slight change of circumstances in their favour, and to advance upon the ground occupied by their neighbours and opponents.

The proximity of distinct climates, produced by the inequalities of the earth's surface, brings species possessing very different constitutions into such immediate contact, that their naturalizations are very speedy whenever opportunities of advancing present themselves. Many insects and plants, for example, are common to low plains within the arctic circle, and to lofty mountains in Scotland and other parts of Europe. If the climate, therefore, of the polar regions were transferred to our own latitudes, the species in question would immediately descend from these elevated stations to overrun the low grounds. Invasions of this kind, attended by the expulsion of the pre-occupants, are almost instantaneous, because the change of temperature not only places the one species in a more favourable position, but renders the others sickly and almost incapable of defence.

Lamarck appears to have speculated on the modifications to which every variation of external circumstances might give rise in the form and organization of species, as if he had indefinite periods of time at his command, not sufficiently reflecting that revolutions in the state of the habitable earth, whether by changes of climate or any other condition, are attended by still greater fluctuations in the relative condition of contemporary species. They can avail themselves of these alterations in their favour instantly, and augment their numbers to the injury of some other species; whereas the supposed transmutations are only assumed to be brought about by slow and insensible degrees, and in a lapse of ages, the duration of which is beyond the reach of human conception Even if we thought it possible that the palm or the elephant, which now flourish in equatorial regions, could ever learn to bear the variable seasons of our temperate zone, or the rigours of an arctic winter, we should, with no less confidence, affirm, that they must perish before they had time to become habituated to such new circumstances. That they would be supplanted by other species at each variation of climate, may be inferred from what we have before said of the known local exterminations of species which have resulted from the multiplication of others. Some minute insect, perhaps, might be the cause of destruction to the huge and powerful elephant.

Suppose the climate of the highest part of the woody zone of Etna to be transferred to the sea-shore at the base of the mountain, no botanist would anticipate that the olive, lemon-tree, and prickly pear (Cactus opuntia), would be able to con tend with the oak and chestnut, which would begin forthwith to descend to a lower level, or that these last would be able to stand their ground against the pine, which would also, in the space of a few years, begin to occupy a lower position. We might form some kind of estimate of the time which might be required for the migrations of these plants; whereas we have no data for concluding that any number of thousands of years would be sufficient for one step in the pretended metamorphosis of one species into another, possessing distinct attributes and qualities.

This argument is applicable not merely to climate, but to any other cause of mutation. However slowly a lake may be converted into a marsh, or a marsh into a meadow, it is evident that before the lacustrine plants can acquire the power of living in marshes, or the marsh- lants of living in a less humid soil, other species, already existing in the region, and fitted for these several stations, will intrude and keep possession of the ground. So if a tract of salt-water becomes fresh by passing through every intermediate degree of brackishness, still the marine molluscs will never be permitted to be gradually metamorphosed into fluviatile species; because long before any such transformation can take place by slow and insensible degrees, other tribes, which delight in brackish or fresh-water, will avail themselves of the change in the fluid, and will, each in their turn, monopolize the space.

It is idle to dispute about the abstract possibility of the conversion of one species into another, when there are known causes so much more active in their nature, which must always intervene and prevent the actual accomplishment of such conversions. A faint image of the certain doom of a species less fitted to struggle with some new condition in a region which it previously inhabited, and where it has to contend with a more vigorous species, is presented by the extirpation of savage tribes of men by the advancing colony of some civilized nation. In this case the contest is merely between two different races, each gifted with equal capacities of improvement -- between two varieties, moreover, of a species which exceeds all others in its aptitude to accommodate its habits to the most extraordinary variations of circumstances. Yet few future events are more certain than the speedy extermination of the Indians of North America and the savages of New Holland in the course of a few centuries, when these tribes will be remembered only in poetry and tradition.

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Notes:

1. Malte-Brun, vol. vi. p. 405.

2. Vol. i. p. 289.

3. Vol. i., p. 116.

4. Chap. VIII.
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Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

Postby admin » Fri Jul 17, 2015 1:39 am

CHAPTER 11

Theory of the successive extinction of species consistent with their limited geographical distribution – The discordance in the opinions of botanists respecting the centres from which plants have been diffused may arise from changes in physical geography subsequent to the origin of living species – Whether there are grounds for inferring that the loss from time to time of certain animals and plants is compensated by the introduction of new species? – Whether any evidence of such new creations could be expected within the historical era, even if they had been as frequent as cases of extinction? – The question whether the existing species have been created in succession can only be decided by reference to geological monuments

WE have pointed out in the preceding chapters the strict dependence of each species of animal and plant on certain physical conditions in the state of the earth's surface, and on the number and attributes of other organic beings inhabiting the same region. We have also endeavoured to show that all these conditions are in a state of continual fluctuation, the igneous and aqueous agents remodelling, from time to time, the physical geography of the globe, and the migrations of species causing new relations to spring up successively between different organic beings. We have deduced as a corollary, that the species existing at any particular period must, in the course of ages, become extinct one after the other. "They must die out," to borrow an emphatical expression from Buffon, " because Time fights against them."

If the views which we have taken are just, there will be no difficulty in explaining why the habitations of so many species are now restrained within exceedingly narrow limits. Every local revolution, such as those contemplated in the preceding chapter, tends to circumscribe the range of some species, while it enlarges that of others; and as we have been led to infer that new species originate in one spot only, each must require time to diffuse itself over a wide area. The recent origin, therefore, of some species, and the high antiquity of others, may be equally consistent with the general fact of their limited distribution, some being local, because they have not existed long enough to admit of their wide dissemination; others, because circumstances in the animate or inanimate world have occurred to restrict the range which they may once have obtained.

As considerable modifications in the relative levels of land and sea have taken place, in certain regions, since the existing species were in being, we can feel no surprise that the zoologist and botanist have hitherto found it difficult to refer the geo.. graphical distribution of species to any clear and determinate principles, since they have usually speculated on the phenomena, upon the assumption that the physical geography of the globe had undergone no material alteration since the introduction of the species now living. So long as this assumption was made, the facts relating to the geography of plants and animals appeared capricious in the extreme, and by many the subject was pronounced to be so full of mystery and anomalies, that the establishment of a satisfactory theory was hopeless.

Some botanists conceived, in accordance with the hypothesis of Willdenow, that mountains were the centres of creation from which the plants now inhabiting large continents have radiated, to which Decandolle and others, with much reason, objected, that mountains, on the contrary, are often the barriers between two provinces of distinct vegetation. The geologist who is acquainted with the extensive modifications which the surface of the earth has undergone in very recent geological epochs, may be able, perhaps, to reconcile both these theories in their application to different regions.

A lofty range of mountains, which is so ancient as to date from a period when the species of animals and plants differed from those now living, will naturally form a barrier between contiguous provinces; but a chain which has been raised, in great part, within the epoch of existing species, and around which new lands have arisen from the sea within that period, will be a centre of peculiar vegetation.

"In France," observes Decandolle, [1] "the Alps and Cevennes prevent a great number of the plants of the south from spreading themselves to the northward; but it has been remarked that some species have made their way through the gorges of these chains, and are found on their northern sides, principally in those places where they are lower and more interrupted." Now the chains here alluded to have probably been of considerable height, even since the era when the existing vegetation began to appear, and were it not for the deep fissures which divide them, they might have caused much more abrupt terminations to the extension of distinct assemblages of species.

Parts of the Italian peninsula, on the other hand, have gained a considerable portion of their present height since a majority of the marine species now inhabiting the Mediterranean, and probably, also, since the terrestrial plants of the same region, were in being. Large tracts of land have been added, both on the Adriatic and Mediterranean side, to what originally constituted a much narrower range of mountains, if not a chain of islands running nearly north and south, like Corsica and Sardinia. It may, therefore, be presumed, that the Apennines have been a centre whence species have diffused themselves over the contiguous lower and newer regions. In this and all analogous situations, the doctrine of Willdenow, that species have radiated from the mountains as from centres, may be well founded.

It appears from Mr. Brown's remarks on the vegetation of New Holland, that there are two groups of plants occurring between the thirty-third and thirty-fifth degrees of southern latitude, and principally at the two opposite extremities of this tract, that is, near the eastern and western coasts. These points have been termed the two principal foci of Australian vegetation, each of them possessing certain genera which are almost peculiar to it. [2] If, when this continent has been more thoroughly investigated, we do not discover some physical barriers, such as a great marsh, or a desert, or a lofty mountain-chain, now intervening between these districts, there may, perhaps, be geological evidence hereafter discovered, that a sea was interposed up to a modern period separating two large islands. Sufficient time may not have elapsed since the union of such isles, to allow of a complete intermixture by mutual immigrations.

If the reader should infer, from the facts laid before him in the preceding chapters, that the successive extinction of animals and plants may be part of the constant and regular course of nature, he will naturally inquire whether there are any means provided for the repair of these losses? Is it part of the economy of our system that the habitable globe should, to a certain extent, become depopulated both in the ocean and on the land; or that the variety of species should diminish until some new era arrives when a new and extraordinary effort of creative energy is displayed? Or is it possible that new species can be called into being from time to time, and yet that so astonishing a phenomenon can escape the observation of naturalists?

Humboldt has characterized these subjects as among the mysteries which natural science cannot reach; and he observes, that the investigation of the origin of beings does not belong to zoological or botanical geography. To geology, however, these topics do strictly appertain; and this science is only interested in inquiries into the state of the animate creation as it now exists, with a view of pointing out its relations to antecedent periods when its condition was different.

Before offering any hypothesis towards the solution of so difficult a problem, let us consider what kind of evidence we ought to expect, in the present state of science, of the first appearance of new animals or plants, if we could imagine the successive creation of species to constitute, like their gradual extinction, a regular part of the economy of nature. In the first place it is obviously more easy to prove that a species, once numerously represented in a given district, has ceased to be, than that some other which did not pre-exist has made its appearance-assuming al ways, for reasons before stated, that single stocks only of each animal and plant are originally created, and that individuals of new species do not suddenly start up in many different places at once.

So imperfect has the science of Natural History remained down to our own times, that within the memory of persons now living, the numbers of known animals and plants have been doubled, or even quadrupled, in many classes. New and often conspicuous species are annually discovered in parts of the old continent, long inhabited by the most civilized nations. Conscious, therefore, of the limited extent of our information, we always infer, when such discoveries are made, that the beings in question had previously eluded our research; or had at least existed elsewhere, and only migrated at a recent period into the territories where we now find them. It is difficult even in contemplation to anticipate the time when we shall be entitled to make any other hypothesis in regard to all the marine tribes, and to by far the greater number of the terrestrial ;-such as birds, which possess such unlimited powers of migration; insects which, besides their numbers, are also so capable of being diffused to vast distances; and cryptogamous plants, to which, as to many other classes, both of the animal and vegetable kingdom, similar observations are applicable.

What kind of proofs, therefore, could we reasonably expect to find of the origin at a particular period of a new species?

Perhaps it may he said in reply, that within the last two or three centuries some forest tree or new quadruped might have been observed to appear suddenly in those parts of England or France which had been most thoroughly investigated; -that naturalists might have been able to shew that no such being inhabited any other region of the globe, and that there was no tradition of anything similar having before been observed in the district where it had made its appearance.

Now although this objection may seem plausible, yet its force will be found to depend entirely on the rate of fluctuation which we suppose to prevail in the animate world, and on the proportion which such conspicuous subjects of the animal and vegetable kingdoms bear to those which are less known, and escape our observation. There are probably more than a million, perhaps two millions of species of plants and animals, exclusive of the microscopic and infusory animalcules, now inhabiting the terraqueous globe. The terrestrial plants, it is supposed, may amount, if fully known, to about one hundred thousand, and the insects to four times that number. To these we have still to add for the remainder of the terrestrial classes, many of the invertebrated and all the vertebrated animals. As to the aquatic tribes, it remains at present in a great degree mere matter of conjecture what proportion they bear to the denizens of the land; but the habitable surface beneath the waters can hardly be estimated at less than double that of the continents and islands, even admitting that a very considerable area is destitute of life, in consequence of great depth, cold, darkness, and other circumstances. In the late polar expedition it was found that in some regions, as in Baffin's Bay, there were marine animals inhabiting the bottom at great depths, where the temperature of the water was below the freezing point. That there is life at much greater profundities in warmer regions may be confidently inferred. We have before stated that marine plants not only exist but acquire vivid colours at depths where, to our senses, there would be darkness deep as night.

The ocean teems with life -- the class of polyps alone are conjectured by Lamarck to be as strong in individuals as insects. Every tropical reef is described as bristling with corals, budding with sponges, and swarming with crustacea, echini, and testacea; while almost every tide-washed rock is carpeted with fuci and studded with corallines, actiniae, and mollusca. There are innumerable forms in the seas of the warmer zones, which have scarcely begun to attract the attention of the naturalist; and there are parasitic animals without number, three or four of which are sometimes appropriated to one genus, as to the Balaena, for example. Even though we concede, therefore, that the geographical range of marine species is more extensive in general than that of the terrestrial, (the temperature of the sea being more uniform, and the land impeding less the migrations of the oceanic than the ocean those of the terrestrial,) yet we think it most probable that the aquatic species far exceed in number the inhabitants of the land.

Without insisting on this point, we may safely assume, as we before stated, that, exclusive of microscopic beings, there are between one and two millions of species now inhabiting the terraqueous globe; so that if only one of these were to become extinct annually, and one new one were to be every year called into being, more than a million of years would be required to bring about a complete revolution in organic life.

We are not hazarding at present any hypothesis as to the probable rate of change, but none will deny that when we propose as a mere speculation the annual birth and the annual death of one species on the globe, we imagine no slight degree of instability in the animate creation. If we divide the surface of the earth into twenty regions of equal area, one of these might comprehend a space of land and water about equal in dimensions to Europe, and might contain a twentieth part of the million of species which we will suppose to exist. In this region one species only would, according to the rate of mortality before assumed, perish in twenty years, or only five out of fifty thousand in the course of a century. But as a considerable proportion of the whole would belong to the aquatic classes, with which we have a very imperfect acquaintance, we may exclude them from our consideration, and thus one only might be lost in about forty years among the terrestrial tribes. Now the mammiferous quadrupeds in Great Britain are only to other terrestrial species of organic beings, both plants and animals, in the proportion of about one to two hundred and eighty; and taking this as a rude approximation to a general standard, it would require more than eight thousand years before it would come to the turn of this conspicuous class to lose one of their number even in a region of the dimensions of Europe.

It is easy, therefore, to conceive, that in a small portion of such an area, in countries, for example, of the size of England and France, periods of much greater duration must elapse before it would be possible to authenticate the first appearance of one of the larger plants and animals, assuming the annual birth and death of one species to be the rate of vicissitude in the animate creation throughout the world.

The observations of naturalists may, in the course of future centuries, accumulate positive data, from which an insight into the laws which govern this part of our terrestrial system may be derived; but, in the present deficiency of historical records, we have traced up the subject to that point where geological monuments alone are capable of leading us on to the discovery of ulterior truths. To these, therefore, we must now appeal, carefully examining the strata of recent formation wherein the remains of living species, both animal and vegetable, are known to occur. We must study these strata in strict reference to their chronological order as deduced from their superposition, and other relations. From these sources we may learn which of the species, now our contemporaries, have survived the greatest revolutions of the earth's surface; which of them have co-existed with the greatest number of animals and plants now extinct, and which have made their appearance only when the animate world had nearly attained its present condition.

From such data we may be enabled to infer whether species have been called into existence in succession or all at one period; whether singly, or whether by groups simultaneously; whether the antiquity of man be as high as that of any of the inferior beings which now share the planet with him, or whether the human species is one of the most recent of the whole.

To some of these questions we can even now return a satisfactory answer; and with regard to the rest, we have some data to guide conjecture, and to enable us to speculate with advantage: but it would be premature to anticipate such discussions until we have laid before the reader an ample body of materials amassed by the industry of modern geologists.

_______________

Notes:

1. Essai Elementaire, &c., p. 46.

2. Brown's Appendix to Flinders's Voyage, and Prichard, Pbys. Hist. of Mankind, vol. i., p. 31.
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Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

Postby admin » Fri Jul 17, 2015 1:39 am

CHAPTER 12

Effects produced by the powers of vitality on the state of the earth's surface – Modifications in physical geography caused by organic beings on dry land inferior to those caused in the subaqueous regions – Why the vegetable soil does not augment in thickness – Organic matter drifted annually to the sea, and buried in subaqueous strata – Loss of nourishment from this source, how supplied – The theory, that vegetation is an antagonist power counterbalancing the degradation caused by running water, untenable – That the igneous causes are the true antagonist powers, and not the action of animal and vegetable life – Conservative influence of vegetation – Its bearing on the theory of the formation of valleys, and on the age of the cones of certain extinct volcanos – Rain diminished by the felling of forests – Distribution of the American forests dependent on the direction of the predominant winds – Influence of man in modifying the physical geography of the globe

THE second branch of our inquiry, respecting the changes of the organic world, relates to the effects produced by the powers of vitality on the state of the earth's surface, and on the material constituents of its crust.

By the effects produced on the surface, we mean those modifications in physical geography of which the existence of organic beings is the direct cause, -- as when the growth of certain plants covers the slope of a mountain with peat, or converts a swamp into dry land; or when vegetation prevents the soil, in certain localities, from being washed away by running water.

By the agency of the powers of vitality on the material constituents of the earth's crust, we mean those permanent modifications in the composition and structure of new strata, which result from the imbedding therein of animal and vegetable remains. In this case, organic beings may not give rise immediately to any new features in the physical geography of certain tracts, which would not equally have resulted from the mere operation of inorganic causes; as, for example, if a lake be filling up with sediment, held in suspension by the waters of some river, and with mineral matter precipitated from the waters of springs, the character of the deposits may be modified by aquatic animals and plants, which may convert the earthy particles into shell, peat, and other substances: but the lake may. nevertheless, be filled up in the same time, and the new strata may be deposited in nearly the same order as would have prevailed if its waters had never been peopled by living beings.

In treating of the first division of our subject we may remark, that when we talk of alterations in physical geography, we are apt to think too exclusively of that part of the earth's surface which has emerged from beneath the waters, and with which alone, as terrestrial beings, we are familiar. Here the direct power of animals and plants to cause any important variations is, of necessity, very limited, except in checking the progress of that decay of which the land is the chief theatre. But if we extend our views, and instead of contemplating the dry land we consider that larger portion which is assigned to the aquatic tribes, we discover the immediate influence of the living creation, in imparting varieties of conformation to the solid exterior which the sole agency of inanimate causes would not produce, to be very great.

Thus, when timber is floated into the sea, it is often drifted to vast distances and subsides in spots where there might have been no deposit, at that time and place, if the earth had not been tenanted by Jiving beings. If, therefore, in the course of ages, a hill of wood, or lignite, be thus formed in the subaqueous regions, a change in the submarine geography may be said to have resulted from the action of organic powers. So in regard to the growth of coral reefs: it is probable that almost all the matter of which they are composed is supplied by mineral springs, which we know often rise up at the bottom of the sea, and which, on land, abound throughout volcanic regions thousands of miles in extent. The matter thus constantly given out could not go on accumulating for ever in the waters, but would be precipitated in the abysses of the sea, even if there were no polyps and testacea; but these animals arrest and secrete the carbonate of lime on the summits of submarine mountains, and form reefs many hundred feet in thickness, and hundreds of leagues in length, where, but for them, none might ever have existed.

If no such voluminous masses are formed on the land, it is not from the want of solid matter in the structure of terrestrial animals and plants, but merely because, as we have so often stated, the continents are those parts of the globe where accessions of matter can scarcely ever take place,-where, on the contrary, the most solid parts already formed are, each in their turn, exposed to gradual degradation. The quantity of timber and vegetable matter which grows in a tropical forest in the course of a century is enormous, and multitudes of animal skeletons are scattered there in the same period, besides innumerable land-shells and other organic substances. The aggregate of these materials might constitute, perhaps, a mass greater in volume than that which is produced in any coral-reef during the same lapse of years; but, although this process should continue on the land for ever, no mountains of wood or bone would be seen stretching far and wide over the country, or pushing out bold promontories into the sea.

The whole solid mass is either devoured by animals, or decomposes, as does a portion of the rock and soil on which the animals and plants are supported. For the decomposition of the strata themselves, especially of their alkaline ingredients and of the organic remains which they so frequently include, is one source from whence running water and the atmosphere may derive the materials which are absorbed by the roots and leaves of plants. Another source is the passage into a gaseous form of even the hardest parts of animals and plants which die and are exposed to putrefy in the air, where they are soon resolved into the elements of which they are composed; and while a portion of these parts is volatilized, the rest is taken up by rain-water and sinks into the earth or flows towards the sea, so that they enter again and again into the composition of different organic beings.

The principal elements found in plants are hydrogen, carbon, and oxygen, so that water and the atmosphere contain all of them, either in their own composition or in solution". [1] The constant supply of these elements is maintained not only by the putrefaction of animal and vegetable substances, and the decay of rocks before mentioned, but also by the copious evolution of carbonic acid and other gases from volcanos and mineral springs, and by the effects of ordinary evaporation, whereby aqueous vapours are made to rise from the ocean and to circulate round the globe.

It is well known that when two gases of different specific gravity are brought into contact, even though the heavier be the lowermost, they become uniformly diffused by mutual absorption through the whole space which they occupy. By virtue of this law, the heavy carbonic acid finds its way upwards through the lighter air, and conveys nourishment to the lichen which covers the mountain top.

The fact, therefore, that the vegetable mould which covers the earth's surface does not decrease in thickness, will not altogether bear out the argument which was founded upon it by Playfair. This vegetable soil, he observes, consists partly of loose earthy materials easily removed, in the form of sand and gravel, partly of finer particles suspended in the waters, which tinge those of some rivers continually, and those of all occasionally, when they are flooded. The soil, although continually diminished from this cause, "remains the same in quantity, or at least nearly the same, and must have done so ever since the earth was the receptacle of animal or vegetable life. The soil, therefore, is augmented from other causes, just as much, at an average, as it is diminished by that now mentioned; and this augmentation evidently can proceed from nothing but the constant and slow disintegration of the rocks." [2]

That the repair of the earthy portion of the soil can only proceed, as Playfair suggests, from the decomposition of rocks, may be admitted; but the vegetable matter may be supplied, and is actually furnished in a great degree, by absorption from the atmosphere, as we before mentioned, so that in level situations, such as in platforms that intervene between valleys where the action of running water is very trifling, the fine vegetable particles carried off by the rain may be perpetually restored, not by the waste of the rock below, but from the air above.

If we supposed the quantity of food consumed by terrestrial animals, together with the matter absorbed by them in breathing, and the elements imbibed by the roots and leaves of plants, to be derived entirely from that supply of hydrogen, carbon, oxygen, azote, and other elements, given out into the atmosphere and the waters by the putrescence of organic substances, then we might imagine that the vegetable mould would, after a series of years~ neither gain nor lose a single particle by the action of organic beings. This conclusion is not far from the truth; but the operation which renovates the vegetable and animal mould is by no means so simple as that here supposed. Thousands of carcasses of terrestrial animals are floated down every century into the sea, and, together with forests of drift- timber, are imbedded in subaqueous deposits, where their elements are imprisoned in solid strata, and may there remain throughout whole geological epochs before they again become subservient to the purposes of life.

On the other hand, fresh supplies are derived by the atmosphere, and by running water, as we before stated, from the disintegration of rocks and their organic contents, and from the interior of the earth, from whence all the elements before-mentioned, which enter principally into the composition of animals and vegetables, are continually evolved. Even nitrogen has been recently found to be contained very generally in the waters of mineral springs. [3]

If we suppose that the copious discharge from the nether regions, by springs and volcanic vents, of carbonic acid and other gases, together with the decomposition of rocks, may be just sufficient to counterbalance that loss of matter which, having already served for the nourishment of animals and plants, is annually carried down in organized forms, and buried in subaqueous strata, we believe that we concede the utmost that is consistent with probability. When more is required by a theorist-when we are told that a counterpoise is derived from the same source to that enormous disintegration of solid rock and its transportation to lower levels, which is the annual result of the action of rivers and marine currents, we must entirely withhold our assent. Such an opinion has been recently advanced by an eminent geologist, or we should have deemed it unnecessary to dwell on propositions which appear to us so clear and obvious.

The descriptions which we gave of the degradation yearly going on through the eastern shores of England, and of the enormous weight of solid matter hourly rolled down by the Ganges or the Mississippi, have been represented as extreme cases, calculated to give a partial view of the changes now in progress, especially as we omitted, it is said, to point out the silent but universal action of a great antagonist power, whereby the destructive operations before alluded to are neutralized, and even, in a great degree, counterbalanced.

"Are there," says Professor Sedgwick, "no antagonist powers in nature to oppose these mighty ravages-no conservative principle to meet this vast destructive agency? The forces of degradation very often of themselves produce their own limitation. The mountain-torrent may tear up the solid rock and bear its fragments to the plain below; but there its power is at an end, and the rolled fragments are left behind to a new action of material elements. And what is true of a single rock, is true of a mountain-chain; and vast regions on the surface of the earth, now only the monuments of spoliation and waste, may hereafter rest secure under the defence of a thick vegetable covering, and become a new scene of life and animation.

"It well deserves remark that the destructive powers of nature act only upon lines, while some of the grand principles of conservation act upon the whole surface of the land. By the processes of vegetable life an incalculable mass of solid matter is absorbed, year after year, from the elastic and nonelastic fluids circulating round the earth, and is then thrown down upon its surface. In this single operation there is a vast counterpoise to all the agents of destruction. And the deltas of the Ganges and the Mississippi are not solely formed at the expense of the solid materials of our globe, but in part, and I believe also in a considerable part, by one of the great conservative operations by which the elements are made to return into themselves." [4]

This is splendid eloquence, full of the energy and spirit that breathes through the whole address: --

Monte decurrens velut amnis, imbres
Quem super notas aluere ripas,
Fervet, immensusque ruit --

but we must pause for a moment, lest we be hurried away by its tide. Let us endeavour calmly to consider whither it would carry us.

If by the elements returning into themselves be meant their return to higher levels, it is certainly possible that a fraction of the organic matter which is intermixed with the mud and sand deposited in alternate strata in the delta of the Ganges, may have been derived by the leaves and roots of plants from such aqueous vapour, carbonic acid, and other gases, as had ascended into the atmosphere from lower regions, and which were not, therefore, derived from the waste of rocks and their organic contents, or from the putrescence of vegetables previously nourished from these sources. This fraction, and this alone, may then be deducted from the mass of solid matter annually transported into the Bay of Bengal, and what re mains, whether organic or inorganic, will be the measure of the degradation which thousands of torrents in the Himalaya mountains, and many rivers of other parts of India, bring down in a single year. Even in this case it will be found that the sum of the force of vegetation can merely be considered as having been in a slight degree conservative, retarding the waste of land, and not acting as an antagonist power.

But the untenable nature of the doctrine which we are now controverting may be set in a clearer light by examining the present state of the earth's surface, on which it is declared that "an incalculable mass of solid matter is thrown down year after year," in such a manner as to form a counterpoise to the agents of decay. Is it not a fact that the vegetable mould is seldom more than a few feet in thickness, and that it often does not exceed a few inches? Do we find that its volume is more considerable on those parts of our continents which we can prove, by geological data, to have been elevated at more ancient periods, and where there has been the greatest time for the accumulation of vegetable matter, produced throughout successive zoological epochs? On the contrary, are not these higher and older regions more frequently denuded, so as to expose the bare rock to the action of the sun and air?

Do we find in the torrid zone, where the growth of plants is most rank and luxurious, that accessions of matter due to their agency are most conspicuous on the surface of the land? On the contrary, is it not there where the vegetation is most active that, for reasons to be explained in the next chapter, even those superficial peat mosses are unknown which cover a large area in some parts of our temperate zone? If the operation of animal and vegetable life could restore to the general surface of the continents a portion of the elements of those disintegrated rocks, of which such enormous masses are swept down annually into the sea, along particular river-courses and lines of coast, the effects would have become ere now most striking; and would have constituted one of the most leading features in the structure and composition of our continents. All the great steppes and table-lands of the world, where the action of running water is feeble, would have become the grand repositories of organic matter, accumulated without that intermixture of sediment which so generally characterizes the subaqueous strata.

Even the formation of peat in certain districts where the climate is cold and moist, the only case, perhaps, which affords the shadow of a support to the theory under consideration, has not in every instance a conservative tendency. A peat-moss often acts like a vast sponge, absorbing water in large quantities, and swelling to the height of many yards above the surrounding country. The turfy covering of the bog serves, like the skin of a bladder, to retain for awhile the fluid within, and a violent inundation sometimes ensues when that skin bursts, as has often happened in Ireland, and many parts of the continent. Examples will be mentioned by us in a subsequent chapter, where the Stygian torrent has hollowed out ravines and borne along rocks and sand, in countries where such ravages could not have happened but for the existence of peat. Here, therefore, the force of vegetation accelerates the rate of decay of land, and the solid matter swept down to lower levels during such floods, counterbalances, to a certain degree, the accessions of vegetable mould which may accrue to the land by the growth of peat.

We may explain more clearly the kind of force which we imagine vegetation to exert, by comparing it to the action of frost, which augments the height of some few Alpine summits by causing a mass of perpetual snow to lodge thereon, or fills up some valleys with glaciers; but although by this process of congelation the rain-water that has risen by evaporation from the sea, is retained for awhile in a solid form upon the land, and although some elevated spots may be protected from waste by a constant covering of ice, yet by the sudden melting of snow and ice, the degradation of rocks is often accelerated. Although every year fresh snow and ice are formed, as also more vegetable and animal matter, yet there is no increase; the one melts, the other putrifies, or is drifted down to the sea by rivers. If this were not the case, frost might be considered as an antagonist power, as well as the action of animal and vegetable life, and these by their combined energy might restore to continents a portion of that solid matter which is swept down into the sea from mountains and wasting cliffs. By the aid of such machinery might a theorist repair the losses of the solid land, sand and rocky fragments being carried down annually to the subaqueous regions from hills of granite, limestone, and shale, while vegetation and frost might raise new mountains, which, like the cliffs in Eschscholtz's Bay, might consist of icebergs, intermixed with vegetable mould.

We have stated in a former volume that, in the known operation of the igneous causes, a real antagonist power is found which may counterbalance the levelling action of running water; and there seems no good reason for presuming that the upheaving and depressing force of earthquakes, together with the heaping up of ejected matter by volcanos, may not be fully adequate to restore the superficial inequalities which rivers and oceanic currents annually tend to lessen. If a counterpoise be derived from this source, the quantity and elevation of land above the sea may for ever remain the same, in spite of the action of the aqueous causes, which, if thus counteracted, may never be able to reduce the surface of the earth more nearly to a state of equilibrium than that which it has now attained; and, on the other hand, the force of the aqueous agents themselves might thus continue for ever unimpaired. This permanence of the intensity of the powers now in operation would account for any amount of disturbance or degradation of the earth's crust, so far as the mere quantity of movement or decay is concerned; provided only that indefinite periods of time are contemplated.

As to the intensity of the disturbing causes at particular epochs, their effects have as yet been studied for too short a time to enable us fully to compare the signs of ancient convulsions with the permanent monuments left in the earth's crust by the events of the last few thousand years. But notwithstanding the small number of changes which have been witnessed and carefully recorded, observation has at least shown that our knowledge of the extent of the subterranean agency, as now developed from time to time, is in its infancy; and there can be no doubt that great partial mutations in the structure of the earth's crust are brought about in volcanic regions, without any interruption to the general tranquillity of the habitable surface.

Some geologists point to particular cases of enormous dislocation of ancient date, and confessedly not of frequent occurrence, where shifts in the strata of two thousand feet and upwards appear to have been produced suddenly and at one effort. But they have been at no pains to prove that similar consequences could not result from earthquakes such as have happened within the last three thousand years. They have usually proceeded on apriori reasoning to assume that such convulsions were paroxysmal, and attended by catastrophes such as have never occurred in modern times. It would be irrelevant to the subject immediately under consideration to enter into a long digression on these topics, but we may remind the reader, that the subsidence of the quay at Lisbon to the depth of six hundred feet only gave rise to a slight whirlpool; and we may thence infer the possibility of a sinking down or elevation four or five times as great, especially in deeper seas, without any superficial disturbance unparalleled in the events of the last century.

If a certain sect of geologists were as anxious to reconcile the actual and former course of nature as they are eager to contrast them, they would perceive that the effects witnessed by us of subterranean action on supramarine land, may not be a type of those which the submerged rocks undergo, and they would proceed with more caution when reasoning from a comparison between the accumulated results of disturbing causes in the immensity of past time, and those which are recorded in the meagre annals of a brief portion of the human era.

The same rash generalizations which are now made respecting eras of paroxysmal violence and chaotic derangement, led formerly to the doctrines of universal formations, the improbability of which might have been foreseen by a slight reference to the causes now in operation.

To the same modes of philosophising we may ascribe the unwillingness of some naturalists to admit, that all the fossil species are not the same as those now living on the globe; whereas, if the facts and reasoning set forth in a former part of this volume, respecting the present instability of the organic creation be just, it might always a priori have been seen that the species inhabiting the planet at two periods very remote could hardly be identical.

In our view of the Huttonian theory, we pointed out as one of its principal defects, the assumed want of synchronism in the action of the great antagonist powers-the introduction, first, of periods when continents gradually wasted away, and then of others when new lands were elevated by violent convulsions. In order to have a clear conception of the working of such a system, let the reader suppose the earthquakes and volcanic eruptions of the Andes to be suspended for a million of years, and sedimentary deposits to accumulate throughout the whole of that period, as they now accumulate at the mouths of the Orinoco and Amazon, and along the intervening coast. Then let a period arrive when the subterranean power, which had obtained no vent during those ten thousand centuries, should escape suddenly in one tremendous explosion.

It is natural that geologists who reject such portions of the Huttonian theory as we embrace, should cling fondly to those parts which we deem unsound and unphilosophical. They have accordingly selected the distinctness of the periods when the antagonist forces are developed, as a principle peculiarly worthy of implicit faith. For this reason they have declined making any strenuous effort to account for those violations of continuity in the series of geological phenomena which are exhibited in large but limited regions, and which we have hinted may admit of explanation by the shifting of the volcanic foci, without the necessity of calling in to our aid any hypothetical eras of convulsion.

In the Oriental cosmogonies, as we have seen, both the physical and moral worlds were represented to be subject to gradual deterioration, until a crisis arrived when they were annihilated, or reverted to a state of chaos; -- there had been alternating periods of tranquility and disorder -- an endless vicissitude of destructions and renovations of the globe.

In the spirit of this antique philosophy, some modern geologists conceive that nature, after long periods of repose, is agitated by fits of " feverish spasmodic energy, during which her very frame-work is torn asunder;" [5] -- these paroxysms of internal energy are accompanied by the sudden elevation of mountain chains, "followed by mighty waves desolating whole regions of the earth"; [6] and, according to some authors, whole races of organic beings are thus suddenly annihilated.

It was to be expected that when, in opposition to these favourite dogmas, we enumerated the subterranean catastrophes of the last one hundred and forty years, pointing out how defective were our annals, and called on geologists to multiply the amount of disturbances arising from this source by myriads of ages during the existence of successive races of organic beings, that we should provoke some vehement expostulation. We could not hope that the self-appointed guardians of Nature's slumber would allow us with impunity thus suddenly to intrude upon her rest, or that they would fail to resent so rude an attempt to rouse her from the torpor into which she had been lulled by their hypothesis. We were prepared to see our proofs and authorities severely sifted, our inferences rigorously scrutinized; but we never supposed it possible that our adversaries would set up "as a vast counterpoise to all the agents of destruction," a cause so nugatory as " the single operation of vegetable life." [7]

As it will appear from what we before said, that vegetation cannot act as an antagonist power amid the mighty agents of change which are always modifying the surface of the globe, let us next inquire how far its influence is conservative, -- how far it may retard the levelling power of running water, which it cannot oppose, much less counterbalance.

It is well known that a covering of herbage and shrubs may protect a loose soil from being carried away by rain, or even by the ordinary action of a river, and may prevent hills of loose sand from being blown away by the wind. For the roots bind together the separate particles into a firm mass, and the leaves intercept the rain-water, so that it dries up gradually instead of Bowing off in a mass and with great velocity. The old Italian hydrographers make frequent mention of the increased degradation which has followed the clearing away of natural woods in several parts of Italy. A remarkable example was afforded in the Upper Val d'Arno, in Tuscany, on the removal of the woods clothing the steep declivities of the hills by which that valley is bounded. When the ancient forest laws were abolished by the Grand Duke Joseph, during the last century, a considerable tract of surface in the Cassentina (the Clausentinium of the Romans) was denuded, and, immediately, the quantity of sand and soil washed down into the Arno increased enormously. Frisi, alluding to such occurrences, observes, that as soon as the bushes and plants were removed, the waters flowed off more rapidly, and, in the manner of floods, swept away the vegetable soil. [8]

This effect of vegetation is of high interest to the geologist, when he is considering the formation of those valleys which have been principally due to the action of rivers. The spaces intervening between valleys, whether they be flat or ridgy, when covered with vegetation, may scarcely undergo the slightest waste, as the surface- may be protected by the green sward of grass; and this may be renewed, in the manner before described, from elements derived from rain-water and the atmosphere. Hence, while the river is continually bearing down matter in the alluvial plain, and undermining the cliffs on each side of every valley, the height of the intervening rising grounds may remain stationary.

In this manner a cone of loose scoriae, sand and ashes, such as Monte Nuovo, may, when it has once become densely clothed with herbage and shrubs, suffer scarcely any farther dilapidation; and the perfect state of the cones of hundreds of extinct volcanos in France, Campania, Sicily, and elsewhere, may prove nothing whatever, either as to their relative or absolute antiquity. We may be enabled to infer from the integrity of such conical hills of incoherent materials, that no flood can have passed over the countries where they are situated since their formation; but the atmospheric action alone in spots where there happen to be no torrents, and where the surface was clothed with vegetation, could scarcely in any lapse of ages have destroyed them.

During a late tour in Spain I was surprized to see a district of gently undulating ground in Catalonia, consisting of red and grey sandstone, and in some parts of red marl, almost entirely denuded of herbage, while the roots of the pines, holm oaks, and some other trees were half exposed, as if the soil had been washed away by a flood. Such is the state of the forests, for example, between Orista and Vich, and near San Lorenzo. Being at length overtaken by a violent thunderstorm, in the month of August, I saw the whole surface, even the highest levels of some flat-topped hills, streaming with mud, while on every declivity the devastation of torrents was terrific. The peculiarities in the physiognomy of the district were at once explained, and I was taught that in speculating on the greater effects which the direct action of rain may once have produced on the surface of certain parts of England, we need not revert to periods when the heat of the climate was tropical.

In the torrid zone the degradation of land is generally more rapid, but the waste is by no means proportioned to the superior quantity of rain or the suddenness of its fall, the transporting power of water being counteracted by a greater luxuriance of vegetation. A geologist who is no stranger to tropical countries observes, that the softer rocks would speedily be washed away in such regions, if the numerous roots of plants were not matted together in such a manner as to produce considerable resistance to the destructive power of the rains. The parasitical and creeping plants also entwine in every possible direction so as to render the forests nearly impervious, and the trees possess forms and leaves best calculated to shoot off the heavy rains, which when they have thus been broken in their fall are quickly absorbed by the ground beneath, or when thrown into the drainage depressions give rise to furious torrents. [9]

The felling of forests has been attended, in many countries, by a diminution of rain, as in Barbadoes and Jamaica. [10] For in tropical countries, where the quantity of aqueous vapour in the atmosphere is very great, but where, on the other band, the direct rays of the sun have immense power, any impediment to the free circulation of air, or any screen which shades the earth from the solar rays, becomes a powerful cause of humidity, and wherever dampness and cold have begun to be generated by such causes, the condensation of vapour continues. The leaves moreover of all plants are alembics, and some of those in the torrid zone have a remarkable power of distilling water, thus contributing to prevent the earth from becoming parched up.

There can be no doubt that the state of the climate, especially the humidity of the atmosphere, influences vegetation, and that, in its turn, vegetation reacts upon the climate; but some writers seem to have attributed too much importance to the influence of forests, particularly those of America, as if they were the primary cause of the moisture of the climate.

The theory of a modern author on this subject, "that forests exist in those parts of America only where the predominant winds carry with them a considerable quantity of moisture from the ocean," seems far more rational. In all countries, he says, "having a summer heat exceeding 70°, the presence or absence of natural woods, and their greater or less luxuriance, may be taken as a measure of the amount of humidity, and of the fertility of the soil. Short and heavy rains, in a warm country, will produce grass, which, having its roots near the surface, springs up in a few days, and withers when the moisture is exhausted; but transitory rains, however heavy, will not nourish trees, because, after the surface is saturated with water, the rest runs off, and the moisture lodged in the soil neither sinks deep enough, nor is in sufficient quantity, to furnish the giants of the forest with the necessary sustenance. It may be assumed, that twenty inches of rain falling moderately, or at intervals, will leave a greater permanent supply in the soil than forty inches falling, as it sometimes does in the torrid zone, in as many hours." [11]

"In all regions," he continues, " where ranges of mountains intercept the course of the constant or predominant winds, the country on the windward side of the mountains will be moist, and that on the leeward dry, and hence parched deserts will generally be found on the west side of countries within the tropics, and on the east side of those beyond them, the prevailing winds in these cases being generally in opposite directions. On this principle, the position of forests in North and South America may be explained. Thus, for example, in the region within the thirtieth parallel, the moisture swept up by the trade-wind from the Atlantic is precipitated in part upon the mountains of Brazil, which are but low and so distributed as to extend far into the interior. The portion which remains is borne westward, and, losing a little as it proceeds, it is at length arrested by the Andes, where it falls down in showers on their summits. The aerial current, now deprived of all the humidity with which it can part, arrives in a state of complete exsiccation at Peru, where, consequently, no rain falls. In the same manner the Ghauts in India, a chain only three or four thousand feet high, intercept the whole moisture of the atmosphere, having copious rains on their windward side, while on the other the weather remains clear and dry. The rains in this case change regularly from the west side to the east, and vice versa, with the monsoons. But in the region of America, beyond the thirtieth parallel, the Andes serve as a screen to intercept the moisture brought by the prevailing winds from the Pacific Ocean; rains are copious on their summits, and in Chili on their western declivities; but none falls on the plains to the eastward, except occasionally when the wind blows from the Atlantic." [12]

We have been more particular in explaining these views, because they appear to us to place in a true light the dependence of vegetation on climate, notwithstanding the reciprocal action which each exerts on the other, the humidity being increased, and more uniformly diffused throughout the year, by the gradual spreading of wood.

Before concluding this chapter, we must offer a few observations on the influence of man in modifying the physical geography of the globe, for we must class his agency among the powers of organic nature.

The modifications of the surface, resulting from human agency, are only on a considerable scale when we have obtained so much knowledge of the working of the laws of nature as to be able to use them as instruments to effect our purposes. We must command nature by obeying her laws, according to the saying of the philosopher, and for this reason we can never materially interfere with any of the great changes which either the aqueous or igneous causes are bringing about on the earth. In vain would the inhabitants of Italy strive to prevent the tributaries of the Po and Adige from bearing down, annually, an immense volume of sand and mud from the Alps and Apennines; in vain would they toil to re-convey to the mountains the mass torn from them year by year, and deposited in the form of sediment in the Adriatic. But they have, nevertheless, been able to vary the distribution of this sediment over a considerable area, by embanking the rivers, and preventing the sand and mud from being spread, by annual inundations, over the plains.

We have explained how the form of the delta of the Po has been altered by this system of embankment, and how much more rapid, in consequence of these banks, have been the accessions of land at the mouths of the Po and Adige within the last twenty centuries. There is a limit, however, to these modifications, since the danger of floods augments with the increasing height of the river-beds, while the expense of maintaining the barrier is continually enhanced, as well as the difficulty of draining the low surrounding country.

In the Ganges, says Major R. H. Colebrooke, no sooner is a slight covering of soil observed on a new sand-bank, than the island is cultivated; water-melons, cucumbers, and mustard, become the produce of the first year, and rice is often seen growing near the water's edge, where the mud is in large quantity. Such islands may be swept away before they have acquired a sufficient degree of stability to resist permanently the force of the stream; but if, by repeated additions of soil, they acquire height and firmness, the natives take possession, and bring over their families, cattle and effects. They choose the highest spots for the sites of villages, where they erect their dwellings with as much confidence as they would do on the main land; for although the foundation is sandy, the uppermost soil being interwoven with the roots of grass and other plants, and hardened by the sun, is capable of withstanding all attacks of the river. These islands often grow to a considerable size, and endure for the lives of the new possessors, being only at last destroyed by the same gradual process of undermining and encroachment to which the banks of the Ganges are subject. [13]

If Bengal were inhabited by a nation more advanced in opulence and agricultural skill, they might, perhaps, succeed in defending these possessions against the ravages of the stream for much longer periods; but no human power could ever prevent the Ganges, or the Mississippi, from making and unmaking islands. By fortifying one spot against the set of the current, its force is only diverted against some other point; and, after a vast expense of time and labour, the property of individuals may be saved, but no addition would thus be made to the sum of productive land. It may be doubted, whether any system could be devised so conducive to national wealth, as the simple plan pursued by the peasants of Hindostan, who, wasting no strength in attempts to thwart one of the great operations of nature, permit the alluvial surface to be perpetually renovated, and find their losses in one place compensated in some other, so that they continue to reap an undiminished harvest from a virgin soil.

To the geologist, the Gangetic islands, and their migratory colonies, may present an epitome of the globe as tenanted by man. For during every century we cede some territory which the earthquake has sunk, or the volcano has covered by its fiery products, or which the ocean has devoured by its waves. On the other hand, we gain possession of new lands, which rivers, tides, or volcanic ejections have formed, or which subterranean causes have upheaved from the deep. Whether the human species will outlast the whole, or a great part of the continents and islands now seen above the waters, is a subject far beyond the reach of our conjectures; but thus much may be inferred from geological data, -- that if such should be its lot, it will be no more than has already fallen to pre-existing species, some of which have, ere now, outlived the form and distribution of land and sea which prevailed at the era of their birth.

We have before shown, when treating of the excavation of new estuaries in Holland by inroads of the ocean, as also of the changes on our own coasts, that although the conversion of sea into land by artificial labours may be great, yet it must always be in subordination to the great movements of the tides and currents. If, in addition to the assistance obtained by parliamentary grants for defending Dunwich from the waves, all the resources of Europe had been directed to the same end, the existence of that port might possibly have been prolonged for many centuries. But, in the meantime, the current would have continued to sweep away portions from the adjoining cliffs on each side, rounding off the whole line of coast into its present form, until at length the town must have projected as a narrow promontory, becoming exposed to the irresistible fury of the waves.

It is scarcely necessary to observe, that the control which man can exert over the igneous agents is less even than that which he may obtain over the aqueous. He cannot modify the upheaving or depressing force of earthquakes, or the periods or degree of violence of volcanic eruptions; and on these causes the inequalities of the earth's surface, and, consequently, the shape of the sea and land, appear mainly to depend. The utmost that man can hope to effect in this respect, is occasionally to divert the course of a lava-stream, and to prevent the burning matter, for a season at least, from overwhelming a city, or other fruit of human industry.

No application, perhaps, of human skill and labour tends so greatly to vary the state of the habitable surface, as that employed in the drainage of lakes and marshes, since not only the stations of many animals and plants, but the general climate of a district, may thus be modified. It is also a kind of alteration to which it is difficult, if not impossible, to find anything analogous in the agency of inferior beings. For we ought always, before we decide that any part of the influence of man is novel and anomalous, carefully to consider all the powers of other animate agents which may be limited or superseded by him. Many who have reasoned on these subjects seem to have forgotten that the human race often succeeds to the discharge of functions previously fulfilled by other species; a topic on which we have already offered some hints, when explaining how the distribution and numbers of each species are dependent on the state of contemporary beings.

Suppose the growth of some of the larger terrestrial plants, or, in other words, the extent of forests, to be diminished by man, and the climate to be thereby modified, it does not follow that this kind of innovation is unprecedented. It is a change in the state of the vegetation, and such may often have been the result of the entrance of new species into the earth. The multiplication, for example, of certain insects in parts of Germany, during the last century, destroyed more trees than man, perhaps, could have felled during an equal period.

It is a curious fact, to which we shall again advert, that the sites of many European forests, cut down since the time of the Romans, have become peat-mosses; and thus a permanent change has been effected in these regions. But other woods, blown down by winds, in the same countries, have also become peat-bogs; so that, although man may have accelerated somewhat the change, yet it may be doubted whether other animate and inanimate causes might not, without his interference, have produced similar results. The atmosphere of our latitudes may have been slowly and insensibly cooling down since the ancient forests began to grow, and the time may have arrived when slight accidents were sufficient to cause the decrease of trees, and the usurpation of their site by other plants.

We do not pretend to decide how far the power of man, to modify the surface, may differ in kind or degree from that of other living beings, but we suspect that the problem is more complex than has been imagined by many who have speculated on such topics. If new land be raised from the sea, the greatest alteration in its physical condition, which could ever arise from the influence of organic beings, would probably be produced by the first immigration of terrestrial plants, whereby the tract would become covered with vegetation. The change next in importance would seem to be when animals enter, and modify the proportionate numbers of certain species of plants. If there be any anomaly in the intervention of man, in farther varying the relative numbers in the vegetable kingdom, it may not so much consist in the kind or absolute quantity of alteration, as in the circumstance that a single species, in this case, would exert, by its superior power and universal distribution, an influence equal to that of hundreds of other terrestrial animals.

If we inquire whether man, by his direct removing power, or by the changes which he may give rise to indirectly, tends, upon the whole, to lessen or increase the inequalities of the earth's surface, we shall incline, perhaps, to the opinion that he is a levelling agent. He conveys upwards a certain quantity of materials from the bowels of the earth in mining operations; but, on the other hand, much rock is taken annually from the land, in the shape of ballast, and afterwards thrown into the sea, whereby, in spite of prohibitory laws, many harbours, in various parts of the world, have been blocked up. We rarely transport heavy materials to higher levels, and our pyramids and cities are chiefly constructed of stone brought down from more elevated situations. By ploughing up thousands of square miles, and exposing a surface for part of the year to the action of the elements, we assist the abrading force of rain, and destroy the conservative effects of vegetation.

But the aggregate force exerted by man is truly insignificant, when we consider the operations of the great physical causes, whether aqueous or igneous, in the inanimate world. If all the nations of the earth should attempt to quarry away the lava which flowed during one eruption from the Icelandic volcanoes in 1783 and the two following years, and should attempt to consign it to the deepest abysses of the ocean, wherein it might approach most nearly to the profundities from which it rose in the volcanic vent, they might toil for thousands of years before their task was accomplished. Yet the matter borne down by the Ganges and Burrampooter, in a single year, probably exceeds, in weight and volume, the mass of Icelandic lava produced by that great eruption.

________________

Notes:

1. See some good remarks on the Formation of Soils, Bakewell's Geology, chap. xviii.

2. Illust. of Hutt. Theory, § 103.

3. Dr. Daubeny has ascertained this interesting fact in his late tour on the continent.

4. Address to the Geological Society on the Anniversary, Feb. 1831, p. 24.

5. Prof. Sedgwick, Anniv. Address, &c. 1831, p. 35.

6. Ibid.

7. Prof. Sedgwick's Anniv. Address, Feb. 1831, p. 24.

8. Treatise on Rivers and Torrents, p. 5, Garston's translation.

9. De la Beehe, Geol. Man. p. 184.

10. Phil. Trans., vol. ii., p. 294.

11. Maclaren, Art. America, Encyc. Britannica.

12. Maclaren, ibid., where the position of the American forests, in accordance with this theory, is laid down in a map.

13. Asiatic Trans., vol. vii.
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Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

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CHAPTER 13

Effects produced by the action of animal and vegetable life on the material constituents of the earth's crust – Imbedding of organic remains in deposits on emerged land – Growth of Peat – Peat abundant in cold and humid climates – Site of many ancient forests in Europe now occupied by Peat – Recent date of many of these changes – Sources of Bog iron-ore – Preservation of animal substances in Peat – Causes of its antiseptic property – Miring of quadrupeds – Bursting of the Solway Moss – Bones of herbivorous quadrupeds found in Peat – Imbedding of animal remains in Caves and Fissures – Formation of bony breccias – Human bones and pottery intermixed with the remains of extinct quadrupeds in caves in the South of France – Inferences deducible from such associations

WE now come to the second subdivision of the inquiry explained in the preceding chapter, -- the consideration of the permanent modifications produced in the material constituents of the earth's crust, by the action of animal and vegetable life.

New mineral compounds, such as might never have existed in this globe but for the action of the powers of vitality, are annually formed, and made to enter into deposits accumulated both above and beneath the waters. Although we can neither explain nor imitate the processes of animal and vegetable life whereby those substances are produced, yet we can investigate the laws by virtue of which organic matter becomes imbedded in new strata, -- sometimes imparting to them a peculiar mineral composition, -- sometimes leaving durable impressions and casts of the forms of animate beings in rocks, so as to modify their structure and appearance.

It has been well remarked by M. Constant Prevost, that the effects of geological causes are divisible into two great classes; those produced on the surface during the immersion of land beneath the waters, and those which take place after its emersion. Agreeably to this classification we shall consider, first, in what manner animal and vegetable remains become included and preserved in solid deposits on emerged land, or that part of the surface which is not permanently covered by water, whether of the sea or lakes; secondly, the manner in which organic remains become imbedded in sub-aqueous deposits.

Under the first division we shall treat of the following topics: -- 1st, the growth of peat, and the preservation of vegetable and animal remains therein; -- 2ndly, the preservation of animal remains in stalactite, and in the mud of caves and fissures; -- 3dly, the burying of organic remains in alluvium and the ruins of land-slips; -- 4thly, of the same in blown sand; -- 5thly, of the same in volcanic ejections, and alluvions composed of volcanic productions.

The growth of Peat and the preservation of Vegetable and Animal Remains therein.

THE generation of peat, when not completely under water, is confined to moist situations, where the temperature is low, and where vegetables may decompose without putrifying. It may consist of any of the numerous plants which are capable of growing in such stations: but a species of moss (sphagnum palustre) constitutes a considerable part of the peat found in marshes of the north of Europe; this plant having the property of throwing up new shoots in its upper part, while its lower extremities are decaying. [1] Reeds, rushes, and other aquatic plants may usually be traced in peat, and their organization is often so entire, that there is no difficulty in discriminating the distinct species.

In general, says Sir H. Davy, one hundred parts of dry peat contain from sixty to ninety-nine parts of matter destructible by fire, and the residuum consists of earths usually of the same kind as the substratum of clay, marl, gravel, or rock on which they are found, together with oxide of iron. "The peat of the chalk counties of England," observes the same writer, "contains much gypsum; but I have found very little in any specimens from Ireland or Scotland, and in general these peats contain very little saline matter." [2] From the researches of Dr. Macculloch, it appears that peat is intermediate between simple vegetable matter and lignite, the conversion of peat to lignite being gradual, and being brought about in a great lapse of time by the prolonged action of water. [3]

Peat is sometimes formed on a declivity in mountainous regions where there is much moisture, but in such situations it rarely if ever exceeds four feet in thickness. In bogs, and in low grounds into which alluvial peat is drifted, it is found forty feet thick and upwards, but in such cases it generally owes one-half of its volume to the water which it contains. It has seldom, if ever, been discovered within the tropics, and it rarely occurs in the valleys even in the south of France and Spain. It abounds more and more in proportion as we advance farther from the equator, and becomes not only more frequent but more inflammable in northern latitudes; [4] the cause of which may probably be that the carbonic acid and hydrogen, which are the most inflammable parts, do not readily assume the gaseous form in a cold atmosphere.

There is a vast extent of surface in Europe covered with peat, which in Ireland is said to extend over a tenth of the whole island. One of the mosses on the Shannon is described by Dr. Boates to be fifty miles long, by two or three broad; and the great marsh of Montoire, near the mouth of the Loire, is mentioned by Blavier as being more than fifty leagues in circumference. It is a curious and well- ascertained fact that many of these mosses of the north of Europe occupy the place of immense forests of pine and oak, which have many of them disappeared within the historical era. Such changes are brought about by the fall of trees and the stagnation of water, caused by their trunks and branches obstructing the free drainage of the atmospheric waters, and giving rise to a marsh. In a warm climate such decayed timber would immediately be removed by insects, or by putrefaction; but, in the cold temperature now prevailing in our latitudes, many examples are recorded of marshes originating in this source. Thus, in Mar forest, in Aberdeenshire, large trunks of Scotch fir, which had fallen from age and decay, were soon immured in peat formed partly out of their perishing leaves and branches, and in part from the growth of other plants. We also learn that the overthrow of a forest by a storm, about the middle of the seventeenth century, gave rise to a peat moss, near Lochbroom, in Ross-shire, where, in less than half a century after the fall of the trees, the inhabitants dug peat. [5] Dr. Walker mentions a similar change when, in the year 1756, the whole wood of Drumlanrig was overset by the wind. Such events explain the occurrence, both in Britain and on the continent, of mosses where the trees are all broken within two or three feet of the original surface, and where their trunks all lie in the same direction. [6]

Nothing is more common than the occurrence of buried trees at the bottom of the Irish peat-mosses, as also in most of those of England, France, and Holland; and they have been so often observed with parts of their trunks standing erect, and with their roots fixed to the sub-soil, that no doubt can be entertained of their having generally grown on the spot. They consist for the most part of the fir, the oak, and the birch; where the sub-soil is clay, the remains of oak are the most abundant; where sand is the substratum, fir prevails. In the marsh of Curragh, in the Isle of Man, vast trees are discovered standing firm on their roots, though at the depth of eighteen or twenty feet below the surface. Some naturalists have desired to refer the imbedding of timber in peat mosses to aqueous transportation, since rivers are well known to float wood into lakes; but the facts above mentioned show that, in numerous instances, such an hypothesis is inadmissible. It has moreover been observed that in Scotland, as also in many parts of the continent, the largest trees are found in those peat mosses which lie in the least elevated regions, and that the trees are proportionably smaller in those which lie at higher levels; from which fact De Luc and Walker have both inferred that the trees grew on the spot, for they would naturally attain a greater size in lower and warmer levels. The leaves also, and fruits of each species, are continually found immersed in the moss along with the parent trees, as, for example, the leaves and acorns of the oak, the cones and leaves of the fir, and the nuts of the hazel.

Sometimes, in the same bog, a stratification is observed of different kinds of wood, oak being found in the lowermost stratum, and birch and hazel in a second bed above. Sometimes still higher, a stratum, containing alder with the twigs of the bog myrtle (Myrica galae), have been found; [6] the succession of strata, in this instance, indicating a gradual conversion of a dry tract into a swamp, and lastly a peat- moss.

The durability of pine-wood, which in the Scotch peat-mosses exceeds that of the birch and oak, is due to the great quantity of turpentine which it contains, and which is so abundant that the fir-wood from bogs is used by the country people, in parts of Scotland, in the place of candles. Such resinous plants, observes Dr. Macculloch, as fir, would produce a fatter coal than oak, because the resin itself is converted into bitumen. [7]

In Hatfield-moss, which appears clearly to have been a forest eighteen hundred years ago, fir-trees have been found ninety feet long, and sold for masts and keels of ships; oaks have also been discovered there above one hundred feet long. The dimensions of an oak from this moss are given in the Philosophical Transactions, No. 275, which must have been larger than any tree now existing in the British dominions.

In the same moss of Hatfield, as well as in that of Kincardine and several others, Roman roads have been found covered to the depth of eight feet by peat. All the coins, axes, arms, and other utensils found in British and French mosses, are also Roman; so that a considerable portion of the European peat-bogs are evidently not more ancient than the age of Julius Caesar. Nor can any vestiges of the ancient forests described by that general, along the line of the great Roman way in Britain, be discovered, except in the ruined trunks of trees in peat.

De Luc ascertained that the very site of the aboriginal forests of Hircinia, Semana, Ardennes, and several others, are now occupied by mosses and fens; and a great part of these changes have, with much probability, been attributed to the strict orders given by Severus, and other emperors, to destroy all the wood in the conquered provinces. Several of the British forests, however, which are now mosses, were cut at different periods by order of the English parliament, because they harboured wolves or outlaws. Thus the Welsh woods were cut and burnt in the reign of Edward I.; as were many of those in Ireland by Henry II., to prevent the natives from harbouring in them and harassing his troops.

It is curious to reflect, that considerable tracts have by these accidents been permanently sterilized, and that during a period when civilization has been making great progress, large areas in Europe have, by human agency, been rendered less capable of administering to the wants of man. Rennie observes with truth, that in those regions alone which the Roman eagle never reached-in the remote circles of the German empire, in Poland and Prussia, and still more in Norway, Sweden, and the vast empire of Russia-can we see what Europe was before it yielded to the power of Rome. [9] Desolation now reigns where stately forests of pine and oak once flourished, such as might now have supplied all the navies of Europe with timber.

At the bottom of peat mosses there is sometimes found a cake, or "pan," as it is termed, of oxide of iron, and the frequency of bog iron- ore is familiar to the mineralogist. The oak which is so often found dyed black in peat, owes its colour to the same metal. From what source the iron is derived is by no means obvious, since we cannot in all cases suppose that it has been precipitated from the waters of mineral springs. According to Fourcroy there is iron in all compact wood, and it is the cause of one-twelfth part of the weight of oak. The heaths (Ericae) which flourish in a sandy, ferruginous soil, are said to contain more iron than any other vegetable.

It has been suggested that iron, being soluble in acids, may be diffused through the whole mass of vegetables, when they decay in a bog, and may, by its superior specific gravity, sink to the bottom, and be there precipitated, so as to form bog iron-ore; or where there is a subsoil of sand or gravel, it may cement them into ironstone or ferruginous conglomerate. [10]

One interesting circumstance attending the history of peat-mosses is the high state of preservation of animal substances buried in them for periods 'of many years. In June, 1747, the body of a woman was found six feet deep, in a peat-moor in the Isle of Axholm, in Lincolnshire. The antique sandals on her feet afforded evidence of her having been buried there for many ages; yet her nails, hair, and skin, are described as having shown hardly any marks of decay. In a turbary on the estate of the Earl of Moira, in Ireland, a human body was dug up, a foot deep in gravel, covered with eleven feet of moss; the body was completely clothed, and the garments seemed all to be made of hair. Before the use of wool was known in that country, the clothing of the inhabitants was made of hair, so that it would appear that this body had been buried at that early period; yet it was fresh and unimpaired. [11] In the Philosophical Transactions, we find an example recorded of the bodies of two persons having been buried in moist peat, in Derbyshire, in 1674, about a yard deep, which were examined twenty-eight years and nine months afterwards; "the colour of their skin was fair and natural, their flesh soft as that of persons newly dead." [12]

Among other analogous facts we may mention, that in digging a pit for a well near Dulverton, in Somersetshire, many pigs were found in various postures, still entire. Their shape was well preserved, the skin, which retained the hair, having assumed a dry, membranous appearance. Their whole substance was converted into a white, friable, laminated, inodorous, and tasteless substance; but which, when exposed to heat, emitted an odour precisely similar to broiled bacon. [13]

We naturally ask whence peat derives this antiseptic property? It has been attributed by some to the carbonic and gallic acids which issue from decayed wood, as also to the presence of charred wood in the lowest strata of many peat-mosses, for charcoal is a powerful antiseptic, and capable of purifying water already putrid. Vegetable gums and resins also may operate in the same way. [14]

The tannin occasionally present in peat is the produce, says Dr. Macculloch, of tormentilla, and some other plants, but the quantity he thinks too small, and its occurrence too casual, to give rise to effects of any importance. He hints that the soft parts of animal bodies, preserved in peat-bogs, may have been converted into adipocire by the action of water merely; an explanation which appears clearly applicable to some of the cases above enumerated. [15]

The manner, however, in which peat contributes to preserve, for indefinite periods, the harder parts of terrestrial animals, is a subject of more immediate interest to the geologist. There are two ways in which animals become occasionally buried in the peat of marshy grounds; they either sink down into the semifluid mud, underlying a turfy surface, upon which they have rashly ventured, or, at other times, a bog " bursts," in the manner described in a preceding chapter, and animals may be involved in the peaty alluvium.

In the extensive bogs of Newfoundland, cattle are sometimes found buried with their heads only and neck above ground, and after having remained for days in this situation, they have been drawn out by ropes and saved. In Scotland, also, cattle venturing on the" quaking moss" are often mired, or " laired," as it is termed; and in Ireland, Mr. King asserts that the number of cattle which are lost in sloughs is quite incredible. [16]

The description given of the Solway moss will serve to illustrate the general character of these boggy grounds. That moss, observes Gilpin, is a flat area, about seven miles in circumference, situated on the confines of England and Scotland. Its surface is covered with grass and rushes, presenting a dry crust and a fair appearance; but it shakes under the least pressure, the bottom being unsound and semifluid. The adventurous passenger, therefore, who sometimes in dry seasons traverses this perilous waste, to save a few miles, picks his cautious way over the rushy tussocks as they appear before him, for here the soil is firmest. If his foot slip, or if he venture to desert this mark of security, it is possible he may never more be heard of.

"At the battle of Solway, in the time of Henry VIII. (1542), when the Scotch army, commanded by Oliver Sinclair, was routed, an unfortunate troop of horse, driven by their fears, plunged into this morass, which instantly closed upon them. The tale was traditional, but it is now authenticated; a man and horse, in complete armour, having been found by peatdiggers, in the place where it was always supposed the affair had happened. The skeleton of each was well preserved, and the different parts of the armour easily distinguished." [17]

This same moss, on the 16th of December, 1772, having been filled with water during heavy rains, rose to an unusual height and then burst. A stream of black half-consolidated mud began at first to creep over the plain, resembling, in the rate of its progress, an ordinary lava current. No lives were lost, but the deluge totally overwhelmed some cottages, and covered four hundred acres. The highest parts of the original moss subsided to the depth of about twenty-five feet, and the height of the moss, on the lowest parts of the country which it invaded, was at least fifteen feet.

A recent inundation in Sligo (January, 1831) affords another example of this phenomenon. After a sudden thaw of snow the bog between Bloomfield and Geevah gave way, and a black deluge, carrying with it the contents of a hundred acres of bog, took the direction of a small stream, and rolled on with the violence of a torrent, sweeping along heath, timber, mud, and stones, and overwhelming many meadows and arable land. On passing through some boggy land the flood swept out a wide and deep ravine, and part of the road leading from Bloomfield to St. James's Well was completely carried away from below the foundation for the breadth of two hundred yards.

The antlers of large and full-grown stags are amongst the most common and conspicuous remains of animals in peat. They are not horns which have been shed, for portions of the skull are found attached, proving that the whole animal perished. Bones of the ox, hog, horse, sheep, and other herbivorous animals, also occur; and in Ireland and the Isle of Man, skeletons of a gigantic elk; but no remains have been met with belonging to those extinct quadrupeds of which the living congeners inhabit warmer latitudes, such as the elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, hyaena, and tiger, though these are so common in superficial deposits of silt, mud, sand, or stalactite, in various localities throughout Great Britain. Their absence seems to imply that they had ceased to live before the atmosphere of this part of the world acquired that cold and humid character which favours the growth of peat.

From the facts before mentioned, that mosses occasionally burst, and descend in a fluid state to lower levels, it will readily be seen that lakes and arms of the sea may occasionally become the receptacles of drift-peat. Of this accordingly there are numerous examples, and hence the alternations of clay and sand with different deposits of peat so frequent on some coasts, as on those of the Baltic and German Ocean. We are informed by Deguer that remains of ships, nautical instruments, and oars, have been found in many of the Dutch mosses; and Gerard, in his History of the Valley of the Somme, mentions that in the lowest tier of that moss was found a boat loaded with bricks, proving that these mosses were at one period navigable lakes and arms of the sea, as were also many mosses on the coast of Picardy, Zealand, and Friesland, from which soda and salt are procured. [18] The canoes, stone hatchets, and stone arrow-heads, found in peat in different parts of Great Britain, lead to similar conclusions, -but these will more properly be considered when we treat of subaqueous phenomena.

Imbedding of Animal Remains in the Stalactite and Mud of Caves and Fissures.

WE explained in the former volume how vast fissures have been formed from time to time by earthquakes, and suggested that the continual percolation of acidulous waters through rocks of limestone might have enlarged these fissures into caverns. We shall now consider in what manner the remains of animals may become preserved in rents and cavities, confining ourselves at present to the monuments of events which are known or can be inferred to have happened within the human era.

As the same caves and fissures may remain open throughout periods of indefinite duration, and may become the receptacles of the remains of species inhabiting a country at very different epochs, it requires the utmost care to avoid confounding together the monuments of occurrences of very distinct dates. Dr. Buckland, in his indefatigable researches into this class of phenomena, has often guarded with great skill against such anachronisms, pointing out the comparatively recent preservation of some organic relics which have become mingled in a common tomb with those of older date.

Fissures are very common in calcareous rocks, and these are usually, in the course of ages, filled up in part by small angular fragments of limestone, which scale off under the influence of frost and rain. Vegetable earth and land-shells are washed in at the same time, and the whole mass often becomes cemented together by calcareous matter dissolved by rainwater, or supplied by mineral springs. In an uncultivated country the edges of such fissures are usually overgrown with bushes, so that herbivorous animals, especially when chased by beasts of prey, or when carelessly browzing on the shrubs, are liable to fall in and perish. Of this kind is a fissure still open in Duncombe Park, in Yorkshire, where the skeletons of dogs, sheep, goats, deer, and hogs, have been found, lodged upon different ledges that occur at various depths in a rent of the rock descending obliquely downwards. [19]

Above the village of Selside, near I ngleborough in Yorkshire, a chasm of" enormous but unknown depth occurs in the scarlimestone, a member of the carboniferous series. "The chasm," says Professor Sedgwick, "is surrounded by grassy shelving banks, and many animals, tempted towards its brink, have fallen down and perished in it. The approach of cattle is now prevented by a strong lofty wall, but there can be no doubt that, during the last two or three thousand years, great masses of bony breccia must have accumulated in the lower parts of the great fissure, which probably descends through the whole thickness of the scar-limestone, to the depth of perhaps five or six hundred feet." [20]

A fissure in the limestone of the Coiron, in France, is seen on the high road between Aubenas and Ville-Dieu, filled with a breccia, consisting of angular fragments of the rock and land-shells cemented together. The mode of its formation is admirably illustrated by the rapid growth of a similar deposit not far distant. At the pass of Escrinet, on the northern escarpment of the Coiron hills, near Aubenas, a tabular mass of limestone is seen disintegrating into innumerable angular fragments, which are transported by the rain to the foot of the declivity, where they have accumulated at one spot, in a talus fifty feet in thickness and five hundred yards wide. The upper part is composed for the most part of loose fragments, on which numerous land-shells are seen living; the lower portion is consolidated by stalagmite into a compact mass which serves for mill-stones. The calcareous cement has a red tinge, but not of so deep a colour as most of the Mediterranean breccias. [21]

By the decomposition of the calcareous rocks near Nice, a soil is produced of a blood-red colour; and red breccias, consisting of fragments of rock and land-shells cemented together, are continually forming. If the mountains here were rent by earthquakes, we might expect the fissures to be gradually filled with red breccias like those of higher antiquity so celebrated in many parts of the Mediterranean.

It often happens that fissures communicate with subterranean caverns, a fact somewhat confirmatory of the views of those geologists who attribute the origin of limestone caverns in great part to the movements and dislocations of the strata. In this case the fissure may serve for ages as a natural pit-fall to animals passing by, and their bones, with all the earth, sand, and fragments of rock that fall through these passages, may be washed down or subside by their own weight, so as to reach the cavern below where thick deposits may be amassed.

Oftentimes when the bones of animals are strewed along the bottom of fissures or caves which they may have inhabited, they become covered over with mud introduced by land-floods, and are thus preserved from decomposition. Thus on the floor of many caverns mentioned by Dr. Buckland, in the Mendip Hills and Derbyshire, sedimentary mud has been left in recent times during floods.

The same author observed in every cave examined by him in Germany, a deposit of mud or sand, sometimes with, and sometimes without, an intermixture of rolled pebbles and angular fragments of rock, and having its surface covered over with a single crust of stalagmite. [22] In the English caves he remarked a similar absence of alternations of alluvium and stalagmite. On the banks of the Meuse, however, at Chockier, about two leagues from Liege, a cavern has been recently discovered where there are three distinct beds of stalagmite, between each of which occur breccia and mud, mixed with some quartz pebbles, and the bones of extinct quadrupeds. [23]

But this exception does not invalidate the generality of the phenomenon observed by the Professor, and of which we have as yet seen no satisfactory explanation. The principal cause we suspect to be, that if several floods pass at different intervals of time through any subterranean passage, the last, if it has power to drift along fragments of rock, will also tear up any alternating stalagmitic and alluvial beds that may happen to have been previously formed. Another cause may be, that in a country in which torrents and rivers are gradually deepening their channels, and cutting through masses of cavernous limestone (an excavating process which is most rapid during epochs of subterranean disturbance, when the levels of a district are altered), it will only happen once that the stream will break into hollows or fissures communicating with a certain series of caverns. When the erosive action has proceeded farther, and the river has sunk to a greater depth, the drainage of the country will be effected in a valley at a level inferior to that of the caves, and consequently no transported matter will afterwards be introduced into them.

In the cave of Paviland, called Goat's Hole, on the coast of Glamorganshire, besides the bones of many extinct animals which occur in a mass of loam, a modern breccia has been formed, consisting of earth cemented by stalagmite, and containing marine-shells and birds' bones, all of recent species. The mouth of this cave is from thirty to forty feet above high-water mark, being situated in a lofty cliff of limestone, facing the estuary of the Severn, the waves of which, during great storms, occasionally dash into it. The left side of a human skeleton was also found here under a cover of six inches of earth. In a cavernous aperture leading from the roof of this cave to the face of the cliff was discovered a bed of brown earth, apparently derived from dust driven in continually by the wind; and in this earth were the bones of various birds, of moles, water-rats, mice, and fish, and a few land-shells, all clearly the remains of modern animals. Their presence in this almost inaccessible spot can only be explained, says Dr. Buckland, "by referring the bones of birds, moles, rats, and mice, to the agency of hawks, and the fish-bones to that of sea-gulls. The land-shells, which are such as live at present on the rock without" may easily have fallen in. Had there been any stalagmite uniting these bones into a breccia, they would have afforded a perfect analogy to the accumulation of modern birds' bones, by the agency of hawks, at Gibraltar." [24]

The formation last alluded to occurs in perpendicular fissures at the north extremity of the rock of Gibraltar, where a reddish calcareous earth, containing numerous bones of small birds, is in the act of accumulating. Around these fissures a number of hawks nestle and rear their young in the breeding-season, and the bones are the remains of their food. Major Imrie mentions also a concretion in the rocks below King's Lines, Gibraltar, consisting of pebbles of the prevailing calcareous rock, wherein, at a considerable depth under the surface, part of a green glass bottle was found imbedded. [25]

In a cave of mountain-limestone at Burringdon, in the Mendip Hills, supposed to have been once used as a place of sepulture or refuge, human bones have been met with, encrusted with stalactite, one of the skulls being filled with this substance in the interior. [26] The state of the bones, says Dr. Buckland, affords indications of very high antiquity.

The remains of human skeletons have been also found in the cave of Wokey Hole, near Wells, in the Mendips, dispersed through reddish mud and clay, and some of them united by stalagmite into a firm osseous breccia. "The spot on which they lie is within reach of the highest floods of the adjacent river, and the mud in which they are buried is evidently fluviatile." [27]

We shall conclude with alluding to some caverns recently examined in the south of France, in which human bones and fragments of pottery are described as intermingled ill the same deposits with the remains of extinct mammalia. We may first mention the cavern of Bize, in the department of Aude, where M. Marcel de Serres met with a small number of human bones mixed with those of extinct animals and with land-shells. They occur in a calcareous stony mass, bound together by a cement of stalagmite. On examining the same caverns, M. Tournal found not only in these calcareous beds, but also in a black mud which overlies a red osseous mud, several human teeth, together with broken angular fragments of a rude kind of pottery, and also marine and terrestrial shells of our own epoch. The teeth preserve their enamel, but the fangs are so much altered as to adhere strongly to the tongue. Of the terrestrial shells thus associated with the bones and pottery, the most common are Cyclostoma elegans, Bulimus decollatus, Helix nemoralis and H. nitida. Among the marine are found Pecten jacobaeus, Mytilus edulis, and Natica mille-punctata, all of them eatable kinds. Bones of quadrupeds were found in the same mass belonging to three new species of the deer kind, an extinct bear (Ursus arctoideus), besides the wild bull (Bos urus), formerly a native of Germany. [28]

In the same part of France, M. de Christol has found in caverns in a tertiary limestone at Pondres and Souvignargues, situated two leagues north of Lunel-viel, (department of Herault,) human bones and pottery confusedly mixed with the remains of the rhinoceros, bear, hyrena, and many other terrestrial mammifers. They were imbedded in an alluvial mud, of the solidity of calcareous tufa, and containing some flint pebbles and fragments of the limestone of the country. Beneath this mixed accumulation, which sometimes attained a thickness of thirteen feet, is the original floor of the cavern, about a foot thick, covered with bones and the dung of animals (album graecum), in a sandy and tufaceous cement.

The human bones in these caverns of Pondres and Souvignargues were found, upon a careful analysis, to have parted with their animal matter to as great a degree as those of the hyaena which accompany them, and are equally brittle, and adhere as strongly to the tongue.

In order to compare the degree of alteration of these bones with those known to be of high antiquity, M. Marcel de Serres, and M. Ballard, Chemist of Montpellier, procured some from a Gaulish sarcophagus in the plain of Lunel, supposed to have been buried for fourteen or fifteen centuries at least. In these the cellular tissue was empty, but they were more solid than fresh bones. They did not adhere to the tongue in the same manner as those of the caverns of Bize and Pondres, yet they had lost at least three-fourths of their original animal matter.

The superior solidity of the Gaulish bones to those in a fresh skeleton is a fact in perfect accordance with the observations made by Mr. Mantell on bones taken from a Saxon tumulus, near Lewes.

Let us now consider what conclusions are deducible from the important facts above enumerated. Must we infer that man and these extinct quadrupeds were contemporaneous inhabitants of the south of France at some former epoch? We should unquestionably have arrived at this conclusion if the bones had been found in an undisturbed stratified deposit of subaqueous origin, especially if it contained shells in regular layers like that of North-Cliff in Yorkshire, described by Mr. Vernon, from which we learn that the mammoth coexisted with thirteen species of our living British land and fresh-water testacea. [29] But we must hesitate before we draw analogous inferences from evidences so equivocal as that afforded by the mud, stalagmites and breccias of caves, where the signs of successive deposition are wanting.

No one will maintain that man, the hyaena, and the bear, were at once joint tenants of these caverns; and if it be necessary to assume that the mud and pebbles were washed into their present position by floods, the same inundations might possibly have caught up the bones lying in more ancient deposits, and thus have mingled the whole together in the same mass.

More than ordinary caution is required in reasoning on the occurrence of human remains and works of art in alluvial deposits, since the chances of error are much greater than when we have the fossil bones of the inferior animals only under consideration. For the floor of caves has usually been disturbed by the aboriginal inhabitants of each country, who have used such retreats for dwelling places, or for concealment, or sepulture. In such spots have treasures been often buried in periods of disturbance, or diligently sought for in times of tranquillity. The excavations made in Sicily for treasure-trove, in places where no money was ever buried, are believed to exceed in number all the spots in which coin was ever hid during the wars between the Saracens and Christians.

Dr. Buckland, in speaking of the cave of Paviland, before mentioned, states that the entire mass through which the bones were dispersed, appeared to have been disturbed by ancient diggings, so that the remains of extinct animals had, in that instance, actually become mixed with the recent bones and shells. In the same cave he found a human skeleton, and the remains of recent testacea of eatable species, which may have been carried in by man. The same observation is applicable to the marine testacea of the cavern of Bize, and we suspect the whole phenomena to be very analogous.

To decide whether certain relics have been introduced by man, or natural causes, into masses of transported materials, must almost always be a task of some difficulty, especially where all the substances, organic and inorganic, have been mixed together and consolidated into one breccia; a change soon effected by the percolation of water charged with carbonate of lime. It is not on such evidence that we shall readily be induced to admit either the high antiquity of the human race, or the recent date of certain lost species of quadrupeds.

_______________

Notes:

1. For a catalogue of the plants which contribute to the generation of peat, see Dr. Rennie on Peat, p. 171-178. Dr. Macculloch's Western Isles, vol. i. p. 129.

2. Irish Bog Reports, p. 209.

3. System of Geology, vol. ii. p. 353.

4. Rev. Dr. Rennie, ibid. p. 260.

5. Dr. Reunie's Essays, p. 65.

6. Ibid. p. 30.

7. Lib. Ent. Know., Timber Trees, p. 32.

8. Syst. of Geol., vol. ii., p. 356.

9. Essays, &c., p. 74.

10. Dr. Rennie, Essays, &c., p. 347.

11. Ib. p. 521, where several other instances are referred to.

12. Phil. Trans., vol. xxxviii., 1734.

13. Dr. Rennie, Essays, &c., p. 521.

14. Ibid., p. 531.

15. Syst. of Geol., vol. ii., pp. 340-346.

16. Phil. Trans., vol. xv., p. 949.

17. Observations on Picturesque Beauty, &c., 1772.

18. Rennie on Peat Moss, p. 205.

19. Buckland, Reliquiae Diluvianae, p. 55.

20. Memoir on the Structure of the Lake Mountains of the North of England, &c., read before the Geological Society, January 5, 1831.

21. I examined this spot in the year 1828, accompanied by Mr. Murchison.

22. ReI. Dil. p. 108.

23. Journ. de Geologie, tome i. p. 286. July, 1830.

24. Buckland, Reliquim Diluvianre, p. 93.

25. Ib. p. 156.

26. Buckland, Reliquiae, p. 164.

27. Ib. p.165.

28. M. Marcel de Serres, Geognosie des Terrains Tertiaires, p. 64. Introduction.

29. See ante, vol. i. p. 96.
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Re: Principles of Geology, by Charles Lyell

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CHAPTER 14

Imbedding of organic remains in alluvium and the ruins caused by landslips – Effects of sudden inundations – Of landslips – Terrestrial animals most abundantly preserved in alluvium and landslips, where earthquakes prevail – Erroneous theories which may arise from overlooking this circumstance – On the remains of works of art included in alluvial deposits – Imbedding of organic bodies and human remains in blown sand – Temple of Ipsambul on the Nile – Dried carcasses of animals buried in the sands of the African deserts – Towns overwhelmed by sand-floods in England and France – Imbedding of organic bodies and works of art in volcanic formations on the land – Cities and their inhabitants buried by showers of ejected matter – by lava – In tuffs or mud composed of volcanic sand and ashes

IN continuing our investigation of the manner in which the animal and vegetable creation leave permanent marks of their existence on the emerged lands, we have next to examine,

The imbedding of organic remains in alluvium, and the ruins caused by landslips.

We restrict the term alluvium to such transported matter as has been thrown down, whether by rivers, floods, or other causes, upon land not permanently submerged beneath the waters of lakes or seas.

The alluvium of the bed of a river does not often contain any animal or vegetable remains, for the whole mass is so continually shifting its place, and the attrition of the various parts is so great, that even the hardest rocks contained in it are, at length, ground down to powder. But when sand, mud, and rubbish, are suddenly swept by a flood, and then Jet fall upon the land, such an alluvium may envelop trees or the remains of animals, which may, in this manner, be permanently preserved.

The sudden descent of a body of water which had been discharged by a small artificial drain from a lake in Vermont, in the United States, in 1810, covered a wide valley with the spoils of the land washed down from the higher country. Deep accumulations of mud and sand were spread far and wide, and, in some places, deposits of timber were heaped up, from twenty to eighty feet in height. [1]

Analogous results happen, from time to time, when the course of a river has been obstructed by landslips, volcanic ejections, masses of ice, or other impediments, and when the waters of temporary lakes so caused burst through the barrier. Besides these indirect effects, the landslip, by suddenly precipitating large masses of rock and soil into a valley, overwhelms a multitude of animals, and sometimes buries permanently whole villages, with their inhabitants and large herds of cattle. Thus three villages, with their entire population, were covered, when the mountain of Piz fell in 1772, in the district of Treviso, in the state of Venice; [2] and part of Mount Grenier, south of Chambery, in Savoy, which fell down in the year 1248, buried five parishes, including the town and church of St. Andre, the ruins occupying an extent of about nine square miles. [3]

The number of lives lost by the slide of the Rossberg, in Switzerland, in 1806, was estimated at more than eight hundred, a great number of the bodies being buried under mud and rock, at great depths, as well as several villages and scattered houses. In the same country, several hundred cottages, with eighteen of their inhabitants and a great number of cows, goats, and sheep, were victims to the sudden fall of a bed of stones, thirty yards deep, which descended from the summits of the Diablerets. In the year 1618, a portion of Mount Conto fell, in the county of Chiavenna in Switzerland, and buried the town of Pleurs with all its inhabitants, to the Dumber of two thousand four hundred and thirty.

It is unnecessary to multiply examples of similar local catastrophes, which, however numerous they may nave been in the mountainous parts of Europe, within the historical period, have been, nevertheless, of rare occurrence in comparison to the events of the same kind which take place in regions convulsed by earthquakes. It is then that all the causes whereby terrestrial animals may be buried in superficial alluvium are in full activity; in proof of which, we need only refer the reader to our description, in the former volume, of the effects of great subterranean movements in disturbing the drainage of a country and altering its levels. When the shocks are violent, enormous masses of rock and earth, even in comparatively low and level countries, are detached from the sides of valleys and cast down into the river-courses. The slides are so rapid and unexpected, that they often overwhelm, in the day-time, every living thing upon the plain; and when they happen in the night, escape is impossible. Although the streams are often only partially dammed up by the ruins thrown into their channel, the waters, nevertheless, collect in sufficient quantity to form torrents of mud, which, as we have seen in Calabria, sometimes bear along uprooted trees, and overwhelm animals until, wherever they cease to move, the mass shrinks on drying, and becomes hard and compact. [4]

Many geologists who seem desirous of ascribing as little power as possible to the aqueous causes now acting, are in the habit of overlooking the effects which the force of running water can produce, when combined with the movements of ordinary earthquakes. In a country like Great Britain, where the height of mountain-chains is not considerable, and where the shocks of earthquakes are rare and extremely feeble, scarcely any remains of terrestrial animals or plants are buried in alluvial deposits, in such a manner as to lead us to expect that they will be preserved for indefinite periods. Some skeletons, it is true, are occasionally imbedded, as, for example, in the mud and sand produced by the floods in Scotland, in 18fl9, in which the dead and mutilated bodies of hares, rabbits, moles, mice, partridges, and even the bodies of men, were found drifted and partially buried. [5] But if the levels of a country remain unchanged, one flood usually effaces the memorials left by another, and there is rarely a sufficient depth of undisturbed transported matter in anyone spot, to preserve the organic remains permanently from destruction.

The catastrophes, on the other hand, which arise from repeated earthquakes, cause not only the death of many animals, but their frequent inhumation in alluvium, so placed as to escape degradation for a succession of ages. When a valley has been half choked up with mud, sand, and gravel, or when numerous slides from the boundary hills have encumbered it with ruin, a river takes a new direction, finding, perhaps, its way through a new-formed fissure. From that moment the transported matter is no longer exposed to be undermined and removed by the action of running water.

Portions, also, of plains loaded with alluvial accumulations by transient floods, may be gradually upraised by earthquakes; and, if any organic remains have been imbedded in the transported materials, they will, after such elevation, remain undisturbed, and beyond the reach of the erosive power of streams. Every fissure, every hollow caused by the sinking in of land, becomes a receptacle of organic and inorganic substances, hurried along by transient floods, in districts where the drainage is repeatedly deranged by subterranean movements.

We have seen that the ravines which opened in Calabria, in 1783, were very numerous, varying in depth from fifty to two hundred feet; [6] and that animals were sometimes engulphed during the shocks. We may assume that many others fell in during the three years that the earthquakes continued, and that similar casualties happen in the intervals between convulsions. Every inundation, therefore, caused by heavy rains, every torrent that might chance to be in the line of any of these chasms, would pour in a quantity of mud, sand, and rolled pebbles, together with fragments of the adjacent rocks, and under these the animal remains might lie inhumed for ages. Where houses with their inhabitants have been swallowed up in fissures, there appears to have been usually a sliding in of all the loose matter which lay upon the surface, so that, in such rents, we might look for rolled pebbles, mud, sand, angular fragments of rocks, ruins of buildings, and skeletons of men and animals, at the depth often of several hundreds of feet. It is obvious that a suite of subterranean caverns, communicating with such fissures, might become wholly, or partially, filled with these various materials confusedly mixed together.

During the great earthquake of 1693, in Sicily, several thousand people were at once entombed in the ruins of caverns in limestone, at Sortino Vecchio; and, at the same time, a large stream, which had issued for ages from one of the grottos below that town, changed suddenly its subterranean course, and came out from the mouth of a cave lower down the valley, where no water had previously flowed. To this new point the ancient mills were transferred.

When the courses of engulphed rivers are thus liable to change, from time to time, by alterations in the levels of a country, and by the rending and shattering of mountain masses, we must suppose that the dens of wild beasts will sometimes be inundated by subterranean floods, and their carcasses buried under heaps of alluvium. The bones, moreover, of individuals which have died in the recesses of caves, or of animals which have been carried in for prey, may be drifted along and mixed up with mud, sand, and fragments of rock, so as to form osseous breccias.

Nor should we omit to mention the havoc committed on low coasts, during earthquakes, by waves of the sea which roll in upon the land, bearing everything before them, for many miles into the interior throwing down upon the surface great heaps of sand and rock, by which the remains of drowned animals may be overwhelmed. Many of the storms, termed hurricanes, have evidently been connected with submarine earthquakes, as is shown by the atmospheric phenomena attendant on them, and by the sounds heard in the ground, and the odours emitted. Such were the circumstances which accompanied the swell of the sea in Jamaica, in 1780, when a great wave desolated the western coast, and bursting upon Savanna la Mar, swept away the whole town in an instant, so that not a vestige of man, beast, or habitation, was seen upon the surface. [7]

Now let us suppose that in a tract of land constantly inhabited by terrestrial quadrupeds, the species are thrice changed under the gradual influence of causes before considered in this volume, and that, during the first and last of these zoological epochs, the district remains entirely free from earthquakes, but is violently convulsed by them during the intermediate era, we should expect, for reasons above considered, that the fossil remains of quadrupeds, buried in alluvium, would be confined to one period only, viz., that of the subterranean movements. If the series of shocks should happen not to have occupied the whole of the second epoch, but only a small portion of it, there might be no indication whatever, in the fossil relics, of a passage from one state of the organic world to another. The transition would appear abrupt; and they who, for the sake of economizing past time, do not hesitate to magnify the energies of natural agents in by-gone ages, might then imagine one paroxysmal earthquake to have caused all the fissures, caverns, and depressions, and one accompanying deluge to have filled the whole with alluvial matter, annihilating, at the same time, the race of quadrupeds of which the bones remain interred.

But although we conceive that, in a country entirely free from subterranean movements, a long succession of ages might pass away without any permanent monuments being left in alluvium of the terrestrial animals which have lived upon the surface, yet it appears scarcely possible that man, if he has made considerable progress in civilization, should fail to leave some lasting signs of the works of his hands, to testify his former existence. We are informed by M. Boblaye, that in the Morea, the formation termed ceramique, consisting of pottery, tiles, and bricks, intermixed with various works of art, enters so largely into the alluvium and vegetable soil upon the plains of Greece, and into hard and crystalline breccias which have been formed at the foot of declivities, that it constitutes a real stratum which might, in the absence of zoological characters, serve to mark our epoch in a most indestructible manner. [8]

Imbedding of Organic Bodies and Human Remains in Blown Sand.

The drifting of sand is the next cause which we may consider among those capable of preserving the remains of the inhabitants of the land during its period of emersion. We have already alluded to the African deserts, as the most remarkable example of desolation produced by this cause. Innumerable towns and cities have been buried to the westward of the Nile, between the temple of Jupiter Ammon and Nubia; and it is scarcely possible to conceive a mode whereby interment could take place under circumstances more favourable to the conservation of monuments for indefinite periods. The sand which surrounded and filled the great temple of Ipsambul, first discovered by Burckhardt, and afterwards partially uncovered by Belzoni and Beechey, was so fine as to resemble a fluid when put in motion. Neither the features of the colossal figures, nor the colour of the stucco with which some were covered, nor the paintings on the walls, had received any injury from being enveloped for ages in this dry impalpable dust. [9]

At some future period, perhaps, when the pyramids shall have perished, the action of the sea, or an earthquake, may lay open to the day some of these buried temples. Or we may suppose the desert to remain undisturbed, and changes in the surrounding sea and land to modify the climate and the direction of the prevailing winds, so that these may then waft away the Lybian sands as gradually as they once brought them to those regions. Thus many a town and temple of higher antiquity than Thebes or Memphis might reappear in their original integrity, and a part of the gloom which overhangs the history of earlier nations might be dispelled.

Whole caravans are said to have been overwhelmed by the Lybian sands; and Burckhardt informs us that " after passing the Akaba, near the head of the Red Sea, the bones of dead camels are the only guides of the pilgrim through the wastes of sand." "We did not see," says Captain Lyon, speaking of a plain near the Soudah mountains, in Northern Africa, "the least appearance of vegetation; but observed many skeletons of animals, which had died of fatigue on the desert, and occasionally the grave of some human being. All these bodies were so dried by the heat of the sun, that putrefaction appears not to have taken place after death. In recently-expired animals I could not perceive the slightest offensive smell; and in those long dead the skin with the hair on it remained unbroken and perfect, although so brittle as to break with a slight blow. The sand-winds never cause these carcasses to change their places, for in a short time a slight mound is formed round them, and they become stationary." [10]

The burying of several towns and villages in England and France by blown sand is on record; thus for example in Suffolk, in the year 1688, part of Downham was overwhelmed by sands which had broken loose about one hundred years before, from a warren five miles to the south-west. This sand had, in the course of a century, travelled five miles, and covered more than a thousand acres of land. [11]

The ruins of buildings have been found entire in the drift-sand of Cornwall, as we before mentioned, as also land-shells. One of the latter is said to belong to a species which is unknown at present in this country. [12] Near St. Pol de Leon, in Brittany, a whole village was completely buried beneath drift-sand, so that nothing was seen but the spire of the church. [13]

Imbedding of Organic Bodies and Works of Art in Volcanic Formations on the Land.

We have in some degree anticipated the subject of this section in a former volume, when speaking of the buried cities around Naples, and those on the flanks of Etna. [14] From the facts referred to by us, it appears that the preservation of human remains and works of art has been frequently due to the descent of floods caused by the copious rains which usually accompany eruptions. These aqueous lavas, as they are called in Campania, flow with great rapidity, and in 1822 surprised and suffocated, as we have stated, seven persons in the villages of St. Sebastian and Massa, on the flanks of Vesuvius.

In the tuffs, moreover, or solidified mud, deposited by these aqueous lavas, impressions of leaves and of trees have been observed. Some of those formed after the eruption of Vesuvius in 1822, are now preserved in the museum at Naples.

Lava itself may become indirectly the means of preserving terrestrial remains, by overflowing beds of ashes, pumice, and ejected matter, which may have been showered down upon animals and plants, or upon human remains. Few substances are better non-conductors of heat than volcanic dust and scoriae, so that a bed of such materials is rarely melted by a superimposed lava-current. After consolidation, the lava affords secure protection to the lighter and more removeable mass below, wherein the organic relics may be enveloped. The Herculanean tuffs containing the rolls of papyrus, of which the characters are still legible, have, as we before remarked, been for ages covered by lava.

Another mode whereby lava may tend to the conservation of imbedded remains, at least of works of human art, is by overflowing them when not intensely heated, in which case they often suffer little or no injury.

Thus when the Etnean lava-current of 1669 covered fourteen towns and villages, and part of the city of Catania, it did not melt down a great number of statues and other articles in the vaults of Catania; and at the depth of thirty-five feet in the same current, on the site of Mompiliere, one of the buried towns, the bell of a church and some statues were found uninjured. [15]

We remarked in a former volume, that in many countries which have been peopled from remote ages by civilized nations, and have been at the same time the theatres of volcanic action, there must be innumerable monuments of the highest value to the historian, which continue unobserved" because they have not been searched for." But we omitted to describe in detail a splendid example of several buried cities in Central India, which might probably be made to yield a richer harvest to the antiquary than Pompeii and Herculaneum. [16] The city of Oujein (or Oojain) was, about fifty years before the Christian aera, the seat of empire, of art, and of learning; but in the time of the Rajah Vicramaditya, it was overwhelmed, together, as tradition reports, with more than eighty other large towns in the provinces of Malwa and Bagur, "by a shower of earth." The city which now bears the name is situated a mile to the southward of the ancient town. On digging on the spot where the latter is supposed to have stood, to the depth of fifteen or eighteen feet, there are frequently discovered, says Mr. Hunter, entire brick walls, pillars of stone, and pieces of wood of an extraordinary hardness, besides utensils of various kinds, and ancient coins. Many coins are also found in the channels cut by the periodical rains, or in the beds of torrents into which they have been washed. "During our stay at Oujein, a large quantity of wheat was found by a man digging for bricks. It was, as might have been expected, almost entirely consumed, and in a state resembling charcoal. In a ravine cut by the rains, from which several stone pillars had been dug, I saw a space from twelve to fifteen feet long and seven or eight high, composed of earthen vessels, broken and closely compacted together. It was conjectured, with great appearance of probability, to have been a potter's kiln. Between this place and the new town is a hollow, in which) tradition says, the river Sipparah formerly ran. It changed its course at the time the city was buried, and now runs to the westward." [17] The soil which covers Oujein is described as "being of an ash-grey colour, with minute specks of black sand." [18]

That the "shower of earth" which is reported to have "fallen from heaven," was produced by a volcanic eruption, we cannot doubt, although no information has been obtained respecting the site of the vent; and the nearest volcano of which we read, is that which was in eruption during the Cutch earthquake in 1819, at the distance of about thirty miles from Bhooi, the capital of Cutch, and at least three hundred geographical miles from Oujein.

Captain F. Dangerfield, who accompanied Sir John Malcolm in his late expedition into Central India, states that the river Nerbuddah, in Malwa, has its channel excavated through columnar basalt, on which rest beds of marl impregnated with salt. The upper of these beds is of a light colour, and from thirty to forty feet thick, and rests horizontally on the lower bed, which is of a reddish colour. Both appear from the description to be tuffs composed of the materials of volcanic ejections, and forming a covering from sixty to seventy feet deep overlying the basalt, which seems to resemble some of the currents of prismatic lava in Auvergne and the Vivarais. Near the middle of this tufaceous mass, and therefore at the depth of thirty feet or more from the surface, just where the two beds of tuff meet, Captain Dangerfield was shown, near the city of Mhysir, buried bricks and large earthen vessels, said to have belonged to the ancient city of Mhysir, destroyed by the catastrophe of Oujein. [19]

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Notes:

1. Ed. New Phil. Journ., No. 111.,146.

2. Malte-Brun's Geog., vol. i., 435.

3. Bakewell, Travels in the Tarentaise, vol. i., p. 201.

4. Vol. i., pp. 427 and 428.

5. Sir T. D. Lauder, Bart., on the great floods in Morayshire, August, 1829, p. 177.

6. Vol. i., p. 421.

7. Edwards, Hist. of West Indies, vol. i., p. 235, Ed. 1801.

8. Ann. des Sci. Nat., tome xxii., p. 117. Feb. 1831.

9. Stratton, Ed. Phil. Journ. No. V., p. 62.

10. Travels in Northern Africa in the years 1818, 1819, and 1820, p. 83.

11. Phil. Trans. vol. ii., p. 722.

12. Vol. i., p. 301.

13. Mem. de l'Acad. des Sci. de Paris, 1772. -- Malte-Brun's Geog. vol. i., p.425.

14. Vol. i., pp. 349 and 365.

15. Vol. i., p. 366.

16. Ibid., p. 407.

17. Narrative of a Journey from Agra to Oujein, Asiatic Researches, vol. vi. p. 36.

18. Asiatic Journal, vol. ix. p. 35.

19. Sir J. Malcolm's Cent. Ind. -- Geol. of Malwa, by Captain F. Dangerfield, App. No. ii. pp. 324, 325.
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