Darwin and Modern Science [214]
of the Flora of New Zealand affords a striking illustration of the correctness of this view. It is poor in species, numbering only some 1400, of which three-fourths are endemic. They seem however quite unable to resist the invasion of new comers and already 600 species of foreign origin have succeeded in establishing themselves.
If we accept the general configuration of the earth's surface as permanent a continuous and progressive dispersal of species from the centre to the circumference, i.e. southwards, seems inevitable. If an observer were placed above a point in St George's Channel from which one half of the globe was visible he would see the greatest possible quantity of land spread out in a sort of stellate figure. The maritime supremacy of the English race has perhaps flowed from the central position of its home. That such a disposition would facilitate a centrifugal migration of land organisms is at any rate obvious, and fluctuating conditions of climate operating from the pole would supply an effective means of propulsion. As these became more rigorous animals at any rate would move southwards to escape them. It would be equally the case with plants if no insuperable obstacle interposed. This implies a mobility in plants, notwithstanding what we know of means of transport which is at first sight paradoxical. Bentham has stated this in a striking way: "Fixed and immovable as is the individual plant, there is no class in which the race is endowed with greater facilities for the widest dispersion...Plants cast away their offspring in a dormant state, ready to be carried to any distance by those external agencies which we may deem fortuitous, but without which many a race might perish from the exhaustion of the limited spot of soil in which it is rooted." (Pres. Addr.(1869), "Proc. Linn. Soc." 1868-69, pages lxvi, lxvii.)
I have quoted this passage from Bentham because it emphasises a point which Darwin for his purpose did not find it necessary to dwell upon, though he no doubt assumed it. Dispersal to a distance is, so to speak, an accidental incident in the life of a species. Lepidium Draba, a native of South-eastern Europe, owes its prevalence in the Isle of Thanet to the disastrous Walcheren expedition; the straw-stuffing of the mattresses of the fever-stricken soldiers who were landed there was used by a farmer for manure. Sir Joseph Hooker ("Royal Institution Lecture", April 12, 1878.) tells us that landing on Lord Auckland's Island, which was uninhabited, "the first evidence I met with of its having been previously visited by man was the English chickweed; and this I traced to a mound that marked the grave of a British sailor, and that was covered with the plant, doubtless the offspring of seed that had adhered to the spade or mattock with which the grave had been dug."
Some migration from the spot where the individuals of a species have germinated is an essential provision against extinction. Their descendants otherwise would be liable to suppression by more vigorous competitors. But they would eventually be extinguished inevitably, as pointed out by Bentham, by the exhaustion of at any rate some one necessary constituent of the soil. Gilbert showed by actual analysis that the production of a "fairy ring" is simply due to the using up by the fungi of the available nitrogen in the enclosed area which continually enlarges as they seek a fresh supply on the outside margin. Anyone who cultivates a garden can easily verify the fact that every plant has some adaptation for varying degrees of seed-dispersal. It cannot be doubted that slow but persistent terrestrial migration has played an enormous part in bringing about existing plant-distribution, or that climatic changes would intensify the effect because they would force the abandonment of a former area and the occupation of a new one. We are compelled to admit that as an incident of the Glacial period a whole flora may have moved down and up a mountain side, while only some of its constituent species would be able to take advantage
If we accept the general configuration of the earth's surface as permanent a continuous and progressive dispersal of species from the centre to the circumference, i.e. southwards, seems inevitable. If an observer were placed above a point in St George's Channel from which one half of the globe was visible he would see the greatest possible quantity of land spread out in a sort of stellate figure. The maritime supremacy of the English race has perhaps flowed from the central position of its home. That such a disposition would facilitate a centrifugal migration of land organisms is at any rate obvious, and fluctuating conditions of climate operating from the pole would supply an effective means of propulsion. As these became more rigorous animals at any rate would move southwards to escape them. It would be equally the case with plants if no insuperable obstacle interposed. This implies a mobility in plants, notwithstanding what we know of means of transport which is at first sight paradoxical. Bentham has stated this in a striking way: "Fixed and immovable as is the individual plant, there is no class in which the race is endowed with greater facilities for the widest dispersion...Plants cast away their offspring in a dormant state, ready to be carried to any distance by those external agencies which we may deem fortuitous, but without which many a race might perish from the exhaustion of the limited spot of soil in which it is rooted." (Pres. Addr.(1869), "Proc. Linn. Soc." 1868-69, pages lxvi, lxvii.)
I have quoted this passage from Bentham because it emphasises a point which Darwin for his purpose did not find it necessary to dwell upon, though he no doubt assumed it. Dispersal to a distance is, so to speak, an accidental incident in the life of a species. Lepidium Draba, a native of South-eastern Europe, owes its prevalence in the Isle of Thanet to the disastrous Walcheren expedition; the straw-stuffing of the mattresses of the fever-stricken soldiers who were landed there was used by a farmer for manure. Sir Joseph Hooker ("Royal Institution Lecture", April 12, 1878.) tells us that landing on Lord Auckland's Island, which was uninhabited, "the first evidence I met with of its having been previously visited by man was the English chickweed; and this I traced to a mound that marked the grave of a British sailor, and that was covered with the plant, doubtless the offspring of seed that had adhered to the spade or mattock with which the grave had been dug."
Some migration from the spot where the individuals of a species have germinated is an essential provision against extinction. Their descendants otherwise would be liable to suppression by more vigorous competitors. But they would eventually be extinguished inevitably, as pointed out by Bentham, by the exhaustion of at any rate some one necessary constituent of the soil. Gilbert showed by actual analysis that the production of a "fairy ring" is simply due to the using up by the fungi of the available nitrogen in the enclosed area which continually enlarges as they seek a fresh supply on the outside margin. Anyone who cultivates a garden can easily verify the fact that every plant has some adaptation for varying degrees of seed-dispersal. It cannot be doubted that slow but persistent terrestrial migration has played an enormous part in bringing about existing plant-distribution, or that climatic changes would intensify the effect because they would force the abandonment of a former area and the occupation of a new one. We are compelled to admit that as an incident of the Glacial period a whole flora may have moved down and up a mountain side, while only some of its constituent species would be able to take advantage