ries in its form, in its proportions, in its aroma, the certificate, so to say, of its birth.
Whence came these changes? We cannot know with certainty and explain the why and the how, and follow rigorously the filiation of cause and effect; but, considering the phenomena as a whole, it becomes evident that it is to differences of temperature, of climate, of culture, that all these modifications are due.
This example, taken from vegetables, shows that if we transport to considerable distances different specimens of the same vegetable, placing them in different conditions of cultivation, we obtain different races. Tea transported some years ago into tropical America would present us with like facts.
Take, now, an example from animals. You all know the turkey but, perhaps, some of you do not know that it came from America. Its introduction into Europe is quite recent.
In America the turkey is wild; and there, in its natural conditions of existence, it presents many characters which distinguish it from our domesticated individuals. The wild turkey is a very beautiful bird, of a deep brown color, very iridescent, presenting reflections of blue, copper, and gold, which make it truly ornamental. It was because of its fine plumage that it was first introduced into France. In the beginning no one thought of the turkey as food; and the first turkey served at table in France was in 1570, at the wedding of Charles IX., two hundred and ninety seven years ago.
As soon as one has tasted the turkey, one finds that he is too good to be merely looked at. He passes from the park to the poultry yard, from the poultry yard to the farm, and from one farm to another, east, west, north, and south. At present, in almost all France, turkeys are raised and are a considerable object of commerce.
But, in going from farm to farm, in travelling all over our country, this bird has encountered different conditions of existence, differences of nourishment and temperature, and never the primitive conditions that it had naturally in America. As a consequence of all this, the turkey has also varied, and, today, not a turkey in France resembles the wild stock. Generally, it has become much smaller; when it has preserved its deep plumage it has become darker and duller; but some have become fawn colored, others are more or less white, and others again are spotted with white, gray, or fawn color.
In a word, almost all the localities to which the turkey has become addicted have given birth to new varieties which have been transformed into races.
Now, in spite of these changes, and although they do not resemble their first parents in America, and do not resemble each other, are our French turkeys less the children of the wild turkey of America? Or if you like that better, are they less brothers and sisters? Have they ceased to be part of the same species? Evidently not.
