SigPhi · Charles Darwin

The Variation of Animals and Plants under Domestication

English

Page 23 of 70

_Caterpillars._—These vary greatly in size and colour. The skin is generally white, sometimes mottled with black or grey, and occasionally quite black. The colour, however, as M. Robinet asserts, is not constant, even in perfectly pure breeds; except in the race _tigrée,_ so called from being marked with transverse black stripes. As the general colour of the caterpillar is not correlated with that of the silk,[72] this character is disregarded by cultivators, and has not been fixed by selection. Captain Hutton, in the paper before referred to, has argued with much force that the dark tiger-like marks, which so frequently appear during the later moults in the caterpillars of various breeds, are due to reversion; for the caterpillars of several allied wild species of Bombyx are marked and coloured in this manner.

He separated some caterpillars with the tiger-like marks, and in the succeeding spring (pp. 149, 298) nearly all the caterpillars reared from them were dark-brindled, and the tints became still darker in the third generation. The moths reared from these caterpillars[73] also became darker, and resembled in colouring the wild _B. huttoni._ On this view of the tiger-like marks being due to reversion, the persistency with which they are transmitted is intelligible.

Several years ago Mrs. Whitby took great pains in breeding silkworms on a large scale, and she informed me that some of her caterpillars had dark eyebrows. This is probably the first step in reversion towards the tiger-like marks, and I was curious to know whether so trifling a character would be inherited. At my request she separated in 1848 twenty of these caterpillars, and having kept the moths separate, bred from them. Of the many caterpillars thus reared, “every one without exception had eyebrows, some darker and more decidedly marked than the others, but _all_ had eyebrows more or less plainly visible.” Black caterpillars occasionally appear amongst those of the common kind, but in so variable a manner, that, according to M. Robinet, the same race will one year exclusively produce white caterpillars, and the next year many black ones; nevertheless, I have been informed by M. A. Bossi of Geneva, that, if these black caterpillars are separately bred from, they reproduce the same colour; but the cocoons and moths reared from them do not present any difference.

The caterpillar in Europe ordinarily moults four times before passing into the cocoon stage; but there are races “à trois mues,” and the Trevoltini race likewise moults only thrice. It might have been thought that so important a physiological difference would not have arisen under domestication; but M. Robinet[74] states that, on the one hand, ordinary caterpillars occasionally spin their cocoons after only three moults, and, on the other hand, “presque toutes les races à trois mues, que nous avons expérimentees, ont fait quatre mues à la seconde ou à la troisième année, ce qui semble prouver qu’il a suffi de les placer dans des conditions favorables pour leur rendre une faculté qu’elles avaient perdue sous des influences moins favorables.”

_Cocoons._—The caterpillar in changing into the cocoon loses about 50 per cent of its weight; but the amount of loss differs in different breeds, and this is of importance to the cultivator. The cocoon in the different races presents characteristic differences; being large or small;—nearly spherical with no constriction, as in the Race de Loriol, or cylindrical, with either a deep or slight constriction in the middle; with the two ends, or with one end alone, more or less pointed.

The silk varies in fineness and quality, and in being nearly white, but of two tints, or yellow. Generally the colour of the silk is not strictly inherited: but in the chapter on Selection I shall give a curious account how, in the course of sixty-five generations, the number of yellow cocoons in one breed has been reduced in France from one hundred to thirty-five in the thousand. According to Robinet, the white race, called Sina, by careful selection during the last seventy-five years, “est arrivée à un tel état de pureté, qu’on ne voit pas un seul cocon jaune dans des millions de cocons blancs.”[75] Cocoons are sometimes formed, as is well known, entirely destitute of silk, which yet produce moths; unfortunately Mrs. Whitby was prevented by an accident from ascertaining whether this character would prove hereditary.

_Adult stage._—I can find no account of any constant difference in the moths of the most distinct races. Mrs. Whitby assured me that there was none in the several kinds bred by her; and I have received a similar statement from the eminent naturalist, M. de Quatrefages. Captain Hutton also says[76] that the moths of all kinds vary much in colour, but in nearly the same inconstant manner. Considering how much the cocoons in the several races differ, this fact is of interest, and may probably be accounted for on the same principle as the fluctuating variability of colour in the caterpillar, namely, that there has been no motive for selecting and perpetuating any particular variation.

The males of the wild Bombycidæ “fly swiftly in the day-time and evening, but the females are usually very sluggish and inactive.”[77] In several moths of this family the females have abortive wings, but no instance is known of the males being incapable of flight, for in this case the species could hardly have been perpetuated. In the silk-moth both sexes have imperfect, crumpled wings, and are incapable of flight; but still there is a trace of the characteristic difference in the two sexes; for though, on comparing a number of males and females, I could detect no difference in the development of their wings, yet I was assured by Mrs. Whitby that the males of the moths bred by her used their wings more than the females, and could flutter downwards, though never upwards. She also states that, when the females first emerge from the cocoon, their wings are less expanded than those of the male. The degree of imperfection, however, in the wings varies much in different races and under different circumstances. M. Quatrefages[78] says that he has seen a number of moths with their wings reduced to a third, fourth, or tenth part of their normal dimensions, and even to mere short straight stumps: “il me semble qu’il y a là un véritable arrêt de développement partiel.” On the other hand, he describes the female moths of the André Jean breed as having “leurs ailes larges et étalées.

Un seul présente quelques courbures irrégulières et des plis anormaux.”

As moths and butterflies of all kinds reared from wild caterpillars under confinement often have crippled wings, the same cause, whatever it may be, has probably acted on silk-moths, but the disuse of their wings during so many generations has, it may be suspected, likewise come into play.

The moths of many breeds fail to glue their eggs to the surface on which they are laid,[79] but this proceeds, according to Capt.

Hutton,[80] merely from the glands of the ovipositor being weakened.

As with other long-domesticated animals, the instincts of the silk-moth have suffered. The caterpillars, when placed on a mulberry-tree, often commit the strange mistake of devouring the base of the leaf on which they are feeding, and consequently fall down; but they are capable, according to M. Robinet,[81] of again crawling up the trunk. Even this capacity sometimes fails, for M. Martins[82] placed some caterpillars on a tree, and those which fell were not able to remount and perished of hunger; they were even incapable of passing from leaf to leaf.

Some of the modifications which the silk-moth has undergone stand in correlation with one another. Thus, the eggs of the moths which produce white cocoons and of those which produce yellow cocoons differ slightly in tint. The abdominal feet, also, of the caterpillars which yield white cocoons are always white, whilst those which give yellow cocoons are invariably yellow.[83] We have seen that the caterpillars with dark tiger-like stripes produce moths which are more darkly shaded than other moths. It seems well established[84] that in France the caterpillars of the races which produce white silk, and certain black caterpillars, have resisted, better than other races, the disease which has recently devastated the silk-districts. Lastly, the races differ constitutionally, for some do not succeed so well under a temperate climate as others; and a damp soil does not equally injure all the races.[85] From these various facts we learn that silk-moths, like the higher animals, vary greatly under long-continued domestication. We learn also the more important fact that variations may occur at various periods of life, and be inherited at a corresponding period. And finally we see that insects are amenable to the great principle of Selection.

[3] Willughby’s ‘Ornithology,’ by Ray, p. 381. This breed is also figured by Albin in 1734 in his ‘Nat. Hist. of Birds,’ vol. ii. p. 86.

[4] F. Cuvier, in ‘Annales du Muséum,’ tom. ix. p. 128, says that moulting and incubation alone stops these ducks laying. Mr. B. P.

Brent makes a similar remark in the ‘Poultry Chronicle,’ 1855, vol.

iii. p. 512.

[6] Crawfurd on the ‘Relation of Domesticated Animals to Civilisation,’ read before the Brit. Assoc. at Oxford, 1860.

[7] Dureau de La Malle, in ‘Annales des Sciences Nat.,’ tom. xvii. p.

118. Tame ducks were not known in Aristotle’s time, as remarked by on the taming of ducks on the Mississippi. For the same fact in England, _see_ Mr. Waterton in Loudon’s ‘Mag. of Nat. Hist.,’ vol.

viii. 1835, p. 542; and Mr. St. John, ‘Wild Sports and Nat. Hist. of 1863, p. 39.

[10] I have met with several statements on the fertility of the several breeds when crossed. Mr. Yarrell assured me that Call and common ducks are perfectly fertile together. I crossed Hook-billed and common ducks, and a Penguin and Labrador, and the crossed Ducks were quite fertile, though they were not bred _ inter se,_ so that the experiment was not fully tried. Some half-bred Penguins and Labradors were again crossed with Penguins, and subsequently bred by me _inter se,_ and they were extremely fertile.

[16] Col. Hawker’s ‘Instructions to young Sportsmen,’ quoted by Mr.

[18] These hybrids have been described by M. Selys-Longchamps in the ‘Bulletins (tom. xii. No 10) Acad. Roy. de Bruxelles.’

Crawfurd on the ‘Relation of Domest. Animals to Civilisation,’ read S. Dixon, 1848, p. 132. The goose figured on the Egyptian monuments seems to have been the Red goose of Egypt.

[22] Mr. A. Strickland (‘Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist.,’ 3rd series, vol. iii. 1859, p. 122) reared some young wild geese, and found them in habits and in all characters identical with the domestic goose.

that the wild goose lays from five to eight eggs, which is a much fewer number than that laid by our domestic goose.

[26] The Rev. L. Jenyns (Blomefield) seems first to have made this observation in his ‘British Animals.’ _See also_ Yarrell, and Dixon in p. 45.

[27] Mr. Bartlet exhibited the head and neck of a bird thus characterised before the Zoological Soc., Feb. 1860.

The Rev. E. S. Dixon gave me some information on the varying colour of the beak and legs.

[29] Mr. A. Strickland, in ‘Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist.,’ 3rd series, vol. iii., 1859, p. 122.

With respect to the livers of white geese being preferred by the Romans _see_ Isid. Geoffroy St.-Hilaire ‘Hist. Nat. Gén.,’ tom. iii.

p. 58.

[33] Mr. Sclater on the black-shouldered peacock of Latham, ‘Proc.

Zoolog. Soc.,’ April 24th, 1860. Mr. Swinhoe at one time believed, (‘Ibis,’ July, 1868) that this kind of peafowl was found wild in Cochin China, but he has since informed me that he feels very doubtful on this head.

[35] ‘The Field,’ May 6th, 1871. I am much indebted to Mr. Canning for information with respect to his birds.

our turkeys are descended from a West Indian species now extinct. But besides the improbability of a bird having long ago become extinct in these large and luxuriant islands, it appears (as we shall presently see) that the turkey degenerates in India, and this fact indicates that it was not aboriginally an inhabitant of the lowlands of the tropics.

and ‘Naturalist’s Library,’ vol. xiv., Birds, p. 138.

217.

Mr. Tegetmeier in the ‘Field,’ July 17th, 1869, p. 46.

[43] E. Blyth, in ‘Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist.,’ 1847, vol. xx. p.

391.

[44] Roulin makes this remark in ‘Mém. de divers Savans, l’Acad. des Sciences,’ tom. vi., 1835, p. 349. Mr. Hill, of Spanish Town, in a letter to me, describes five varieties of the Guinea fowl in Jamaica.

I have seen singular pale-coloured varieties imported from Barbadoes and Demerara.

p. 236. Mr. Hill remarks to me, in his letter, on the colour of the legs of the feral birds in Jamaica.

given of all the varieties. For many measurements of the wild birds, 252 on the inherited song of Canary-birds. With respect to their described, in ‘Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist.,’ 1860, p. 151 a nearly similar variety but destitute of a dorsal fin.

[58] ‘De l’Espèce,’ 1859, p. 459. With respect to the bees of Burgundy [59] _See_ a discussion on this subject, in answer to a question of mine, in ‘Journal of Horticulture,’ 1862, pp. 225-242; also Mr. Bevan Fox, in ditto, 1862, p. 284.

[60] This excellent observer may be implicitly trusted; _see_ ‘Journal Herr Kleine on same subject (Nov. 11th, p. 643, who sums up, that, though there is some variability in colour, no constant or perceptible differences can be detected in the bees of Germany.

[62] Mr. Woodbury has published several such accounts in ‘Journal of [63] ‘Annals and Mag. of Nat. Hist.,’ 3rd series, vol. xi. p. 339.

[65] ‘Transact. Entomolog. Soc.’ 3rd series, vol. iii. pp. 143-173 and pp. 295-331.

silkworm in China is given on the authority of Stanislas Julien.

[67] _See_ the remarks of Prof. Westwood, Gen. Hearsey and others at the meeting of the Entomolog. Soc. of London, July, 1861.

[68] _See_ for instance M. A. de Quatrefages’ ‘Études sur les Maladies [69] My authorities for the statements will be given in the chapter on Selection.

[71] Robinet, ibid., pp. 12, 318. I may add that the eggs of N.

American silkworms taken to the Sandwich Islands produced moths at very irregular periods; and the moths thus raised yielded eggs which were even worse in this respect. Some were hatched in ten days, and others not until after the lapse of many months. No doubt a regular early character would ultimately have been acquired. _See_ review in Islands.’

[72] ‘The Art of rearing Silk-worms,’ translated from Count Dandolo, 1825, p. 23.

[75] Robinet, ibid., pp. 306-317.

CHAPTER IX. CULTIVATED PLANTS: CEREAL AND CULINARY PLANTS.

PRELIMINARY REMARKS ON THE NUMBER AND PARENTAGE OF CULTIVATED PLANTS—FIRST STEPS IN CULTIVATION—GEOGRAPHICAL DISTRIBUTION OF CULTIVATED PLANTS.

CEREALIA. DOUBTS ON THE NUMBER OF SPECIES—WHEAT: VARIETIES THE VARIETIES—MAIZE: GREAT VARIATION OF—DIRECT ACTION OF CLIMATE ON.

CULINARY PLANTS.—CABBAGES: VARIETIES OF, IN FOLIAGE AND STEMS, BUT NOT IN OTHER PARTS—PARENTAGE OF—OTHER SPECIES OF BRASSICA—PEAS: AMOUNT OF DIFFERENCE IN THE SEVERAL KINDS, CHIEFLY IN THE PODS AND SEED—SOME VARIETIES CONSTANT, SOME HIGHLY VARIABLE—DO NOT INTERCROSS—BEANS—POTATOES: NUMEROUS VARIETIES OF—DIFFERING LITTLE EXCEPT IN THE TUBERS—CHARACTERS INHERITED.

I shall not enter into so much detail on the variability of cultivated plants, as in the case of domesticated animals. The subject is involved in much difficulty. Botanists have generally neglected cultivated varieties, as beneath their notice. In several cases the wild prototype is unknown or doubtfully known; and in other cases it is hardly possible to distinguish between escaped seedlings and truly wild plants, so that there is no safe standard of comparison by which to judge of any supposed amount of change. Not a few botanists believe that several of our anciently cultivated plants have become so profoundly modified that it is not possible now to recognise their aboriginal parent-forms. Equally perplexing are the doubts whether some of them are descended from one species, or from several inextricably commingled by crossing and variation. Variations often pass into, and cannot be distinguished from, monstrosities; and monstrosities are of little significance for our purpose. Many varieties are propagated solely by grafts, buds, layers, bulbs, etc., and frequently it is not known how far their peculiarities can be transmitted by seminal generation. Nevertheless, some facts of value can be gleaned: and other facts will hereafter be incidentally given. One chief object in the two following chapters is to show how many characters in our cultivated plants have become variable.

Before entering on details a few general remarks on the origin of cultivated plants may be introduced. M. Alph. De Candolle[1] in an admirable discussion on this subject, in which he displays a wonderful amount of knowledge, gives a list of 157 of the most useful cultivated plants. Of these he believes that 85 are almost certainly known in their wild state; but on this head other competent judges[2] entertain great doubts. Of 40 of them, the origin is admitted by M. De Candolle to be doubtful, either from a certain amount of dissimilarity which they present when compared with their nearest allies in a wild state, or from the probability of the latter not being truly wild plants, but seedlings escaped from culture. Of the entire 157, 32 alone are ranked by M. De Candolle as quite unknown in their aboriginal condition. But it should be observed that he does not include in his list several plants which present ill-defined characters, namely, the various forms of pumpkins, millet, sorghum, kidney-bean, dolichos, capsicum, and indigo. Nor does he include flowers; and several of the more anciently cultivated flowers, such as certain roses, the common Imperial lily, the tuberose, and even the lilac, are said[3] not to be known in the wild state.

From the relative numbers above given, and from other arguments of much weight, M. De Candolle concludes that plants have rarely been so much modified by culture that they cannot be identified with their wild prototypes. But on this view, considering that savages probably would not have chosen rare plants for cultivation, that useful plants are generally conspicuous, and that they could not have been the inhabitants of deserts or of remote and recently discovered islands, it appears strange to me that so many of our cultivated plants should be still unknown or only doubtfully known in the wild state. If, on the other hand, many of these plants have been profoundly modified by culture, the difficulty disappears. The difficulty would also be removed if they have been exterminated during the progress of civilisation; but M. De Candolle has shown that this probably has seldom occurred. As soon as a plant was cultivated in any country, the half-civilised inhabitants would no longer have need to search the whole surface of the land for it, and thus lead to its extirpation; and even if this did occur during a famine, dormant seeds would be left in the ground. In tropical countries the wild luxuriance of nature, as was long ago remarked by Humboldt, overpowers the feeble efforts of man. In anciently civilised temperate countries, where the whole face of the land has been greatly changed, it can hardly be doubted that some plants have become extinct; nevertheless De Candolle has shown that all the plants historically known to have been first cultivated in Europe still exist here in the wild state.

MM. Loiseleur-Deslongchamps[4] and De Candolle have remarked that our cultivated plants, more especially the cereals, must originally have existed in nearly their present state; for otherwise they would not have been noticed and valued as objects of food. But these authors apparently have not considered the many accounts given by travellers of the wretched food collected by savages. I have read an account of the savages of Australia cooking, during a dearth, many vegetables in various ways, in the hopes of rendering them innocuous and more nutritious. Dr. Hooker found the half-starved inhabitants of a village in Sikhim suffering greatly from having eaten arum-roots,[5] which they had pounded and left for several days to ferment, so as partially to destroy their poisonous nature; and he adds that they cooked and ate many other deleterious plants. Sir Andrew Smith informs me that in South Africa a large number of fruits and succulent leaves, and especially roots, are used in times of scarcity. The natives, indeed, know the properties of a long catalogue of plants, some having been found during famines to be eatable, others injurious to health, or even destructive to life. He met a party of Baquanas who, having been expelled by the conquering Zulus, had lived for years on any roots or leaves which afforded some little nutriment and distended their stomachs, so as to relieve the pangs of hunger. They looked like walking skeletons, and suffered fearfully from constipation. Sir Andrew Smith also informs me that on such occasions the natives observe as a guide for themselves, what the wild animals, especially baboons and monkeys, eat.

From innumerable experiments made through dire necessity by the savages of every land, with the results handed down by tradition, the nutritious, stimulating, and medicinal properties of the most unpromising plants were probably first discovered. It appears, for instance, at first an inexplicable fact that untutored man, in three distant quarters of the world, should have discovered, amongst a host of native plants, that the leaves of the tea-plant and mattee, and the berries of the coffee, all included a stimulating and nutritious essence, now known to be chemically the same. We can also see that savages suffering from severe constipation would naturally observe whether any of the roots which they devoured acted as aperients. We probably owe our knowledge of the uses of almost all plants to man having originally existed in a barbarous state, and having been often compelled by severe want to try as food almost everything which he could chew and swallow.

From what we know of the habits of savages in many quarters of the world, there is no reason to suppose that our cereal plants originally existed in their present state so valuable to man. Let us look to one continent alone, namely, Africa: Barth[6] states that the slaves over a large part of the central region regularly collect the seeds of a wild grass, the _Pennisetum distichum_; in another district he saw women collecting the seeds of a Poa by swinging a sort of basket through the rich meadow-land. Near Tete, Livingstone observed the natives collecting the seeds of a wild grass, and farther south, as Andersson informs me, the natives largely use the seed of a grass of about the size of canary-seed, which they boil in water. They eat also the roots of certain reeds, and every one has read of the Bushmen prowling about and digging up with a fire-hardened stake various roots. Similar facts with respect to the collection of seeds of wild grasses in other parts of the world could be given.[7] Accustomed as we are to our excellent vegetables and luscious fruits, we can hardly persuade ourselves that the stringy roots of the wild carrot and parsnip, or the little shoots of the wild asparagus, or crabs, sloes, etc., should ever have been valued; yet, from what we know of the habits of Australian and South African savages, we need feel no doubt on this head. The inhabitants of Switzerland during the Stone-period largely collected wild crabs, sloes, bullaces, hips of roses, elderberries, beechmast, and other wild berries and fruit.[8] Jemmy Button, a Fuegian on board the ‘Beagle,’ remarked to me that the poor and acid black-currants of Tierra del Fuego were too sweet for his taste.

The savage inhabitants of each land, having found out by many and hard trials what plants were useful, or could be rendered useful by various cooking processes, would after a time take the first step in cultivation by planting them near their usual abodes. Livingstone[9] states that the savage Batokas sometimes left wild fruit-trees standing in their gardens, and occasionally even planted them, “a practice seen nowhere else amongst the natives.” But Du Chaillu saw a palm and some other wild fruit-trees which had been planted; and these trees were considered private property. The next step in cultivation, and this would require but little forethought, would be to sow the seeds of useful plants; and as the soil near the hovels of the natives[10] would often be in some degree manured, improved varieties would sooner or later arise. Or a wild and unusually good variety of a native plant might attract the attention of some wise old savage; and he would transplant it, or sow its seed. That superior varieties of wild fruit-trees occasionally are found is certain, as in the case of the American species of hawthorns, plums, cherries, grapes, and hickories, specified by Professor Asa Gray.[11] Downing also refers to certain wild varieties of the hickory, as being “of much larger size and finer flavour than the common species.” I have referred to American fruit-trees, because we are not in this case troubled with doubts whether or not the varieties are seedlings which have escaped from cultivation. Transplanting any superior variety, or sowing its seeds, hardly implies more forethought than might be expected at an early and rude period of civilisation. Even the Australian barbarians “have a law that no plant bearing seeds is to be dug up after it has flowered;” and Sir G. Grey[12] never saw this law, evidently framed for the preservation of the plant, violated. We see the same spirit in the superstitious belief of the Fuegians, that killing water-fowl whilst very young will be followed by “much rain, snow, blow much.”[13] I may add, as showing forethought in the lowest barbarians, that the Fuegians when they find a stranded whale bury large portions in the sand, and during the often-recurrent famines travel from great distances for the remnants of the half-putrid mass.

It has often been remarked[1] that we do not owe a single useful plant to Australia or the Cape of Good Hope, countries abounding to an unparalleled degree with endemic species,—or to New Zealand, or to America south of the Plata; and, according to some authors, not to America northward of Mexico. I do not believe that any edible or valuable plant, except the canary-grass, has been derived from an oceanic or uninhabited island. If nearly all our useful plants, natives of Europe; Asia, and South America, had originally existed in their present condition, the complete absence of similarly useful plants in the great countries just named would be indeed a surprising fact. But if these plants have been so greatly modified and improved by culture as no longer closely to resemble any natural species, we can understand why the above-named countries have given us no useful plants, for they were either inhabited by men who did not cultivate the ground at all, as in Australia and the Cape of Good Hope, or who cultivated it very imperfectly, as in some parts of America. These countries do yield plants which are useful to savage man; and Dr. Hooker[15] enumerates no less than 107 such species in Australia alone; but these plants have not been improved, and consequently cannot compete with those which have been cultivated and improved during thousands of years in the civilised world.

The case of New Zealand, to which fine island we as yet owe no widely cultivated plant, may seem opposed to this view; for, when first discovered, the natives cultivated several plants; but all inquirers believe, in accordance with the traditions of the natives, that the early Polynesian colonists brought with them seeds and roots, as well as the dog, which had been wisely preserved during their long voyage.

The Polynesians are so frequently lost on the ocean that this degree of prudence would occur to any wandering party: hence the early colonists of New Zealand, like the later European colonists, would not have had any strong inducement to cultivate the aboriginal plants. According to De Candolle we owe thirty-three useful plants to Mexico, Peru, and Chile; nor is this surprising when we remember the civilised state of the inhabitants, as shown by the fact of their having practised artificial irrigation and made tunnels through hard rocks without the use of iron or gunpowder, and who, as we shall see in a future chapter, fully recognised, as far as animals were concerned, and therefore probably in the case of plants, the important principle of selection.

We owe some plants to Brazil; and the early voyagers, namely, Vespucius and Cabral, describe the country as thickly peopled and cultivated. In North America[16] the natives cultivated maize, pumpkins, gourds, beans, and peas, “all different from ours,” and tobacco; and we are hardly justified in assuming that none of our present plants are descended from these North American forms. Had North America been civilised for as long a period, and as thickly peopled, as Asia or Europe, it is probable that the native vines, walnuts, mulberries, crabs, and plums, would have given rise, after a long course of cultivation, to a multitude of varieties, some extremely different from their parent-stocks; and escaped seedlings would have caused in the New, as in the Old World, much perplexity with respect to their specific distinctness and parentage.’[17] _Cerealia._—I will now enter on details. The cereals cultivated in Europe consist of four genera—wheat, rye, barley, and oats. Of wheat the best modern authorities[18] make four or five, or even seven distinct species; of rye, one; of barley, three; and of oats, two, three, or four species. So that altogether our cereals are ranked by different authors under from ten to fifteen distinct species. These have given rise to a multitude of varieties. It is a remarkable fact that botanists are not universally agreed on the aboriginal parent-form of any one cereal plant. For instance, a high authority writes in 1855,[19] “We ourselves have no hesitation in stating our conviction, as the result of all the most reliable evidence, that none of these Cerealia exist, or have existed, truly wild in their present state, but that all are cultivated varieties of species now growing in great abundance in S. Europe or W. Asia.” On the other hand, Alph. De Candolle[20] has adduced abundant evidence that common wheat (_Triticum vulgare_) has been found wild in various parts of Asia, where it is not likely to have escaped from cultivation: and there is some force in M.

Godron’s remark, that, supposing these plants to be escaped