In the second place, salt-water fish can with care be slowly accustomed to

  live in fresh water; and, according to Valenciennes, there is hardly a

  single group of fishes confined exclusively to fresh water, so that we may

  imagine that a marine member of a fresh-water group might travel far along

  the shores of the sea, and subsequently become modified and adapted to the

  fresh waters of a distant land.

  Some species of fresh-water shells have a very wide range, and allied

  species, which, on my theory, are descended from a common parent and must

  have proceeded from a single source, prevail throughout the world. Their

  distribution at first perplexed me much, as their ova are not likely to be

  transported by birds, and they are immediately killed by sea water, as are

  the adults. I could not even understand how some naturalised species have

  rapidly spread throughout the same country. But two facts, which I have

  observed--and no doubt many others remain to be observed--throw some light

  on this subject. When a duck suddenly emerges from a pond covered with

  duck-weed, I have twice seen these little plants adhering to its back; and

  it has happened to me, in removing a little duck-weed from one aquarium to

  another, that I have quite unintentionally stocked the one with fresh-water

  shells from the other. But another agency is perhaps more effectual: I

  suspended a duck's feet, which might represent those of a bird sleeping in

  a natural pond, in an aquarium, where many ova of fresh-water shells were

  hatching; and I found that numbers of the extremely minute and just hatched

  shells crawled on the feet, and clung to them so firmly that when taken out

  of the water they could not be jarred off, though at a somewhat more

  advanced age they would voluntarily drop off. These just hatched molluscs,

  though aquatic in their nature, survived on the duck's feet, in damp air,

  from twelve to twenty hours; and in this length of time a duck or heron

  might fly at least six or seven hundred miles, and would be sure to alight

  on a pool or rivulet, if blown across sea to an oceanic island or to any

  other distant point. Sir Charles Lyell also informs me that a Dyticus has

  been caught with an Ancylus (a fresh-water shell like a limpet) firmly

  adhering to it; and a water-beetle of the same family, a Colymbetes, once

  flew on board the 'Beagle,' when forty-five miles distant from the nearest

  land: how much farther it might have flown with a favouring gale no one

  can tell.

  With respect to plants, it has long been known what enormous ranges many

  fresh-water and even marsh-species have, both over continents and to the

  most remote oceanic islands. This is strikingly shown, as remarked by

  Alph. de Candolle, in large groups of terrestrial plants, which have only a

  very few aquatic members; for these latter seem immediately to acquire, as

  if in consequence, a very wide range. I think favourable means of

  dispersal explain this fact. I have before mentioned that earth

  occasionally, though rarely, adheres in some quantity to the feet and beaks

  of birds. Wading birds, which frequent the muddy edges of ponds, if

  suddenly flushed, would be the most likely to have muddy feet. Birds of

  this order I can show are the greatest wanderers, and are occasionally

  found on the most remote and barren islands in the open ocean; they would

  not be likely to alight on the surface of the sea, so that the dirt would

  not be washed off their feet; when making land, they would be sure to fly

  to their natural fresh-water haunts. I do not believe that botanists are

  aware how charged the mud of ponds is with seeds: I have tried several

  little experiments, but will here give only the most striking case: I took

  in February three table-spoonfuls of mud from three different points,

  beneath water, on the edge of a little pond; this mud when dry weighed only

  6 3/4 ounces; I kept it covered up in my study for six months, pulling up

  and counting each plant as it grew; the plants were of many kinds, and were

  altogether 537 in number; and yet the viscid mud was all contained in a

  breakfast cup! Considering these facts, I think it would be an

  inexplicable circumstance if water-birds did not transport the seeds of

  fresh-water plants to vast distances, and if consequently the range of

  these plants was not very great. The same agency may have come into play

  with the eggs of some of the smaller fresh-water animals.

  Other and unknown agencies probably have also played a part. I have stated

  that fresh-water fish eat some kinds of seeds, though they reject many

  other kinds after having swallowed them; even small fish swallow seeds of

  moderate size, as of the yellow water-lily and Potamogeton. Herons and

  other birds, century after century, have gone on daily devouring fish; they

  then take flight and go to other waters, or are blown across the sea; and

  we have seen that seeds retain their power of germination, when rejected in

  pellets or in excrement, many hours afterwards. When I saw the great size

  of the seeds of that fine water-lily, the Nelumbium, and remembered Alph.

  de Candolle's remarks on this plant, I thought that its distribution must

  remain quite inexplicable; but Audubon states that he found the seeds of

  the great southern water-lily (probably, according to Dr. Hooker, the

  Nelumbium luteum) in a heron's stomach; although I do not know the fact,

  yet analogy makes me believe that a heron flying to another pond and

  getting a hearty meal of fish, would probably reject from its stomach a

  pellet containing the seeds of the Nelumbium undigested; or the seeds might

  be dropped by the bird whilst feeding its young, in the same way as fish

  are known sometimes to be dropped.

  In considering these several means of distribution, it should be remembered

  that when a pond or stream is first formed, for instance, on a rising

  islet, it will be unoccupied; and a single seed or egg will have a good

  chance of succeeding. Although there will always be a struggle for life

  between the individuals of the species, however few, already occupying any

  pond, yet as the number of kinds is small, compared with those on the land,

  the competition will probably be less severe between aquatic than between

  terrestrial species; consequently an intruder from the waters of a foreign

  country, would have a better chance of seizing on a place, than in the case

  of terrestrial colonists. We should, also, remember that some, perhaps

  many, fresh-water productions are low in the scale of nature, and that we

  have reason to believe that such low beings change or become modified less

  quickly than the high; and this will give longer time than the average for

  the migration of the same aquatic species. We should not forget the

  probability of many species having formerly ranged as continuously as

  fresh-water productions ever can range, over immense areas, and having

  subsequently become extinct in intermediate regions. But the wide

  distribution of fresh-water plants and of the lower animals, whether

  retaining the same identical form or in some degree modified, I believe

  mainly depends on the wide dispe
rsal of their seeds and eggs by animals,

  more especially by fresh-water birds, which have large powers of flight,

  and naturally travel from one to another and often distant piece of water.

  Nature, like a careful gardener, thus takes her seeds from a bed of a

  particular nature, and drops them in another equally well fitted for them.

  On the Inhabitants of Oceanic Islands. -- We now come to the last of the

  three classes of facts, which I have selected as presenting the greatest

  amount of difficulty, on the view that all the individuals both of the same

  and of allied species have descended from a single parent; and therefore

  have all proceeded from a common birthplace, notwithstanding that in the

  course of time they have come to inhabit distant points of the globe. I

  have already stated that I cannot honestly admit Forbes's view on

  continental extensions, which, if legitimately followed out, would lead to

  the belief that within the recent period all existing islands have been

  nearly or quite joined to some continent. This view would remove many

  difficulties, but it would not, I think, explain all the facts in regard to

  insular productions. In the following remarks I shall not confine myself

  to the mere question of dispersal; but shall consider some other facts,

  which bear on the truth of the two theories of independent creation and of

  descent with modification.

  The species of all kinds which inhabit oceanic islands are few in number

  compared with those on equal continental areas: Alph. de Candolle admits

  this for plants, and Wollaston for insects. If we look to the large size

  and varied stations of New Zealand, extending over 780 miles of latitude,

  and compare its flowering plants, only 750 in number, with those on an

  equal area at the Cape of Good Hope or in Australia, we must, I think,

  admit that something quite independently of any difference in physical

  conditions has caused so great a difference in number. Even the uniform

  county of Cambridge has 847 plants, and the little island of Anglesea 764,

  but a few ferns and a few introduced plants are included in these numbers,

  and the comparison in some other respects is not quite fair. We have

  evidence that the barren island of Ascension aboriginally possessed under

  half-a-dozen flowering plants; yet many have become naturalised on it, as

  they have on New Zealand and on every other oceanic island which can be

  named. In St. Helena there is reason to believe that the naturalised

  plants and animals have nearly or quite exterminated many native

  productions. He who admits the doctrine of the creation of each separate

  species, will have to admit, that a sufficient number of the best adapted

  plants and animals have not been created on oceanic islands; for man has

  unintentionally stocked them from various sources far more fully and

  perfectly than has nature.

  Although in oceanic islands the number of kinds of inhabitants is scanty,

  the proportion of endemic species (i.e. those found nowhere else in the

  world) is often extremely large. If we compare, for instance, the number

  of the endemic land-shells in Madeira, or of the endemic birds in the

  Galapagos Archipelago, with the number found on any continent, and then

  compare the area of the islands with that of the continent, we shall see

  that this is true. This fact might have been expected on my theory, for,

  as already explained, species occasionally arriving after long intervals in

  a new and isolated district, and having to compete with new associates,

  will be eminently liable to modification, and will often produce groups of

  modified descendants. But it by no means follows, that, because in an

  island nearly all the species of one class are peculiar, those of another

  class, or of another section of the same class, are peculiar; and this

  difference seems to depend on the species which do not become modified

  having immigrated with facility and in a body, so that their mutual

  relations have not been much disturbed. Thus in the Galapagos Islands

  nearly every land-bird, but only two out of the eleven marine birds, are

  peculiar; and it is obvious that marine birds could arrive at these islands

  more easily than land-birds. Bermuda, on the other hand, which lies at

  about the same distance from North America as the Galapagos Islands do from

  South America, and which has a very peculiar soil, does not possess one

  endemic land bird; and we know from Mr. J. M. Jones's admirable account of

  Bermuda, that very many North American birds, during their great annual

  migrations, visit either periodically or occasionally this island. Madeira

  does not possess one peculiar bird, and many European and African birds are

  almost every year blown there, as I am informed by Mr. E. V. Harcourt. So

  that these two islands of Bermuda and Madeira have been stocked by birds,

  which for long ages have struggled together in their former homes, and have

  become mutually adapted to each other; and when settled in their new homes,

  each kind will have been kept by the others to their proper places and

  habits, and will consequently have been little liable to modification.

  Madeira, again, is inhabited by a wonderful number of peculiar land-shells,

  whereas not one species of sea-shell is confined to its shores: now,

  though we do not know how seashells are dispersed, yet we can see that

  their eggs or larvae, perhaps attached to seaweed or floating timber, or to

  the feet of wading-birds, might be transported far more easily than

  land-shells, across three or four hundred miles of open sea. The different

  orders of insects in Madeira apparently present analogous facts.

  Oceanic islands are sometimes deficient in certain classes, and their

  places are apparently occupied by the other inhabitants; in the Galapagos

  Islands reptiles, and in New Zealand gigantic wingless birds, take the

  place of mammals. In the plants of the Galapagos Islands, Dr. Hooker has

  shown that the proportional numbers of the different orders are very

  different from what they are elsewhere. Such cases are generally accounted

  for by the physical conditions of the islands; but this explanation seems

  to me not a little doubtful. Facility of immigration, I believe, has been

  at least as important as the nature of the conditions.

  Many remarkable little facts could be given with respect to the inhabitants

  of remote islands. For instance, in certain islands not tenanted by

  mammals, some of the endemic plants have beautifully hooked seeds; yet few

  relations are more striking than the adaptation of hooked seeds for

  transportal by the wool and fur of quadrupeds. This case presents no

  difficulty on my view, for a hooked seed might be transported to an island

  by some other means; and the plant then becoming slightly modified, but

  still retaining its hooked seeds, would form an endemic species, having as

  useless an appendage as any rudimentary organ,--for instance, as the

  shrivelled wings under the soldered elytra of many insular beetles. Again,

  islands often possess trees or bushes belonging to orders which elsewhere

  include only herbaceous species; now trees, as Alph.
de Candolle has shown,

  generally have, whatever the cause may be, confined ranges. Hence trees

  would be little likely to reach distant oceanic islands; and an herbaceous

  plant, though it would have no chance of successfully competing in stature

  with a fully developed tree, when established on an island and having to

  compete with herbaceous plants alone, might readily gain an advantage by

  growing taller and taller and overtopping the other plants. If so, natural

  selection would often tend to add to the stature of herbaceous plants when

  growing on an island, to whatever order they belonged, and thus convert

  them first into bushes and ultimately into trees.

  With respect to the absence of whole orders on oceanic islands, Bory St.

  Vincent long ago remarked that Batrachians (frogs, toads, newts) have never

  been found on any of the many islands with which the great oceans are

  studded. I have taken pains to verify this assertion, and I have found it

  strictly true. I have, however, been assured that a frog exists on the

  mountains of the great island of New Zealand; but I suspect that this

  exception (if the information be correct) may be explained through glacial

  agency. This general absence of frogs, toads, and newts on so many oceanic

  islands cannot be accounted for by their physical conditions; indeed it

  seems that islands are peculiarly well fitted for these animals; for frogs

  have been introduced into Madeira, the Azores, and Mauritius, and have

  multiplied so as to become a nuisance. But as these animals and their

  spawn are known to be immediately killed by sea-water, on my view we can

  see that there would be great difficulty in their transportal across the

  sea, and therefore why they do not exist on any oceanic island. But why,

  on the theory of creation, they should not have been created there, it

  would be very difficult to explain.

  Mammals offer another and similar case. I have carefully searched the

  oldest voyages, but have not finished my search; as yet I have not found a

  single instance, free from doubt, of a terrestrial mammal (excluding

  domesticated animals kept by the natives) inhabiting an island situated

  above 300 miles from a continent or great continental island; and many

  islands situated at a much less distance are equally barren. The Falkland

  Islands, which are inhabited by a wolf-like fox, come nearest to an

  exception; but this group cannot be considered as oceanic, as it lies on a

  bank connected with the mainland; moreover, icebergs formerly brought

  boulders to its western shores, and they may have formerly transported

  foxes, as so frequently now happens in the arctic regions. Yet it cannot

  be said that small islands will not support small mammals, for they occur

  in many parts of the world on very small islands, if close to a continent;

  and hardly an island can be named on which our smaller quadrupeds have not

  become naturalised and greatly multiplied. It cannot be said, on the

  ordinary view of creation, that there has not been time for the creation of

  mammals; many volcanic islands are sufficiently ancient, as shown by the

  stupendous degradation which they have suffered and by their tertiary

  strata: there has also been time for the production of endemic species

  belonging to other classes; and on continents it is thought that mammals

  appear and disappear at a quicker rate than other and lower animals.

  Though terrestrial mammals do not occur on oceanic islands, aerial mammals

  do occur on almost every island. New Zealand possesses two bats found

  nowhere else in the world: Norfolk Island, the Viti Archipelago, the Bonin

  Islands, the Caroline and Marianne Archipelagoes, and Mauritius, all

  possess their peculiar bats. Why, it may be asked, has the supposed

  creative force produced bats and no other mammals on remote islands? On my

  view this question can easily be answered; for no terrestrial mammal can be