Other parts also of vegetable physiology had been considerably advanced

before 1840; Theodore de Saussure observed in 1822 the production of

heat in flowers and its dependence on respiration; ten years later

Goeppert proved the rise of temperature in germinating and vegetating

organs. Dutrochet stimulated enquiry by his researches in various

branches of the science between 1820 and 1840; he was the first to

apply the phenomena of diosmosis to the explanation of the movement

of sap in plants with a lasting influence on the further progress of

physiology. Chemical investigations were less fruitful in results,

though they served to collect a considerable material of single facts,

which could afterwards be turned to theoretical account.

The close of this period, which began with unprofitable doubts, but

in which much was set in a train for further development after 1840,

is marked by the publication of some important compilations, in which

all that had as yet been done in vegetable physiology was presented in

a connected form. In addition to Dutrochet’s collected works (1837)

three comprehensive compendia of vegetable physiology made their

appearance, one by De Candolle, which was translated into German by

Roeper and published with many improvements and additions in 1833

and 1835; this was followed by a work on vegetable physiology by L.

C. Treviranus, 1835-1838, and lastly by Meyen’s ‘Neues System der

Pflanzenphysiologie,’ 1837-1839. These works exhibit the characteristic

features of the period chiefly in this, that physiology finds as yet

no strong support in phytotomy, while the old views of vital force are

brought face to face with more exact physico-chemical explanations of

processes of vegetation.

4. We have already pointed out the wonderful impulse given to the

study of morphology and phytotomy, of embryology and cells about the

year 1840; it was shown also that this was due in a great measure

to discarding the errors of the nature-philosophy and the idea of

vital force, and requiring in the place of such speculations exact

observation and systematic induction, and how Schleiden’s ‘Grundzüge’

soon after 1840 vigorously met the demands of the newer time in

these respects, but without satisfying them by the positive results

obtained. The rapid progress made by phytotomy and the doctrine of

cells in the hands of von Mohl and Nägeli proved specially favourable

to vegetable physiology, by making it possible to follow the processes

of fertilisation in the interior of the ovule. The formation of the

pollen-tube from the pollen-grain had been observed long before

1840, and Schleiden in 1837 had proposed the view that the embryo

of Phanerogams was formed at the end of the pollen-tube by free

cell-formation after it had entered the embryo-sac. But Amici in 1846

and Hofmeister in 1849 showed that this notion was erroneous, and

that the germ-primordium is in existence in the embryo-sac before the

arrival of the pollen-tube and is excited by it to further development,

to the forming the embryo. Similarly Hofmeister’s further observations

on the embryology of Vascular Cryptogams and Mosses left no doubt,

that the spermatozoids of these groups of plants discovered by Unger

and Nägeli serve to fertilise the germ-cell or egg-cell previously

formed in the female organ and to excite it to further development

(1849, 1851). Soon after the sexual act was observed in various

Algae, and these afforded the best opportunity for solving by the

aid of the microscope the questions which experiment had still left

open. Thuret showed in 1854, how the large egg-cells in species of

Fucus are surrounded and fertilised by spermatozoids, and he even

succeeded in producing hybrids by fertilising the egg-cells of one

species with the spermatozoids of another; but it was still uncertain

whether simple contact of the male and female organs was sufficient, or

whether fertilisation is due to the mingling of the substance of the

spermatozoid and the germ-cell; the question was settled by Pringsheim

in 1855; he saw the male organ of fertilisation of a fresh-water alga

penetrate into the substance of the egg-cell and be dissolved in it,

and this proceeding was afterwards observed in higher Cryptogams and is

represented in its simplest form in the sexual act of the Conjugatae,

which De Bary described at length in 1858 and like Vaucher regarded as

a sexual process.

When we consider to what an extent the time and power of work of the

most eminent botanists was devoted after 1840 to long and difficult

observations on the minute anatomy of plants, on cell-formation,

embryology and the history of the development of organs, we cannot

wonder if other parts of vegetable physiology, which require

experiments on vegetation in plants, were cultivated but little and

by the way only; but these studies also gained firmer footing in the

advance of phytotomy, which supplied the physiologist with a more

definite idea of the organism in which the phenonema of vegetative life

are produced.

The chemistry of the food of plants was one of the strictly

physiological subjects, which like the sexual theory was studied

without intermission and with considerable success in the period from

1840 to 1860, but chiefly or entirely by chemists, who connected

their investigations into the processes of nutrition in plants with

Saussure’s results. Agricultural chemists were chiefly engaged till

nearly 1860 with the questions, whether all or certain constituents

of the ash of a plant are indispensable parts of its food, and whence

these constituents are derived, and with cognate considerations on

the exhaustion of the soil by cultivation and its remedy by suitable

manuring. In France Boussingault had undertaken experimental and

analytical investigations on these subjects before 1840, and it was

he who in the course of the next twenty years made the most valuable

physiological discoveries; of these the most important was the fact

that plants do not make use of free atmospheric nitrogen as food, but

take up compounds of nitrogen for the purpose. In Germany the interest

in such questions was increased by the instrumentality of Justus

Liebig, who gathered from the knowledge that had been accumulated up

to 1840 all that was fundamental and of real importance, and drew

attention to the great practical value of the theory of the nutrition

of plants in agriculture and in the management of woods and forests;

considerable state provision was soon made for investigations of the

kind, but these often wandered from the right path for the reason,

that being designed to promote practical interests they lost sight

of the inner connection between all vital phenomena. Still a great

mass of facts was accumulated, which careful sifting might afterwards

render serviceable to pure science. Some of the best agricultural

chemists deserve the credit of vindicating purely scientific as well

as practical points of view, and explained in comprehensive works the

general subject of the nutrition of plants, so far as it was possible

to do so without going deeply into their organisation; among these

were Boussingault and the Germans Emil Wolff and Franz Schulze. But

the questions of the nutrition of plants, which are connected with the

chemical processes of assimilation and metabolism within them, remained

still undecided, though some valuable preliminary work on these points

dates from this time.

In comparison with this important advance in the sexual theory and the

doctrine of the nutrition of plants little was done in the branches

of vegetable physiology which remain to be mentioned, and that little

appeared in an unconnected and fragmentary state; different observers

established the connection between the temperature of plants and

oxygen-respiration; some new single facts were discovered in connection

with the downward curvature of roots, Brücke published in 1848 an

excellent enquiry into the movements of Mimosa-leaves, and Hofmeister

showed in 1857 that the phenomenon, then known as bleeding in the

vine and some other trees, takes place in all woody plants, and not

in spring only but in every period of the year, if the requisite

conditions are present. These and many other isolated observations were

very valuable for the future, but were not used at the time to frame

comprehensive theories, because no one devoted himself exclusively to

questions of the kind with the perseverance, which in these difficult

subjects can alone lead to certain results and to a deeper insight

into the inner connection of the phenomena. Surprisingly small was the

addition to the knowledge of the movement of sap in plants, and still

less was discovered respecting the external conditions of processes of

growth and the movements connected with them. The important question of

the dependence of the phenomena of vegetation on temperature, was it

is true not wholly neglected; but the mistake was made of attempting a

short cut by multiplying the total period of vegetation of a plant by

the mean daily temperature, in the hope of finding in this product an

expression for the total warmth required by a given plant; this mistake

was especially misleading in the geography of plants.

The more valuable knowledge which had been gathered up to 1851 was

brought together by von Mohl in his often-mentioned work on the

vegetable cell with equal perspicuity and conciseness, and current

views were critically examined; vegetable physiology generally was

expounded at greater length but with less critical sifting in

Unger’s text-book of 1855; these were the two books which did most to

disseminate a knowledge of the subject up to 1860, and they performed

their task with credit; that which appears in Schacht’s books after

1852 under the head of vegetable physiology rests on such imperfect

acquaintance with this branch of science, as to diminish rather than

increase its reputation.

* * * * *

Passing from this preliminary survey to a more detailed account of the

subject, it will be found necessary to keep the history of the sexual

theory distinct from other questions in vegetable physiology. This

mode of proceeding is required by the fact, that the establishment and

further elucidation of the decisive points in the sexual theory were

made independently of the rest of physiology, so that the historical

continuity would be interrupted and the account rendered obscure by

any attempt to connect the development of the theory chronologically

with other topics. In like manner the doctrine of the nutrition of

plants and of the movement of the sap was developed uninterruptedly and

in independence of other physiological matters; it will be advisable

therefore to devote a separate chapter to those subjects also. Earlier

discoveries respecting the movements of the parts of plants and the

mechanics of growth will be briefly recounted in a third chapter.

CHAPTER I.

HISTORY OF THE SEXUAL THEORY.

1. FROM ARISTOTLE TO R. J. CAMERARIUS.

It will contribute to a correct appreciation of the discoveries made

towards the end of the 17th century by Rudolph Jacob Camerarius and his

successors in regard to the sexual relations of plants, if we first

make ourselves acquainted with all that was known of the matter up to

that time from Aristotle downwards; we shall learn at the same time

how extremely unfruitful was the superficial observation of the older

philosophy in a question in which inductive research only could lead to

real results.

That Aristotle[90] like many others after him reckoned sexual

fertilisation among processes of nutrition, and thus failed to perceive

the specific and peculiar character of the latter, is shown distinctly

by his assertion, that the nutritive and propagative power of the

soul is one and the same. This hasty generalisation was associated

in Aristotle’s mind with another error arising from very defective

experience, which led him to bring sexuality in organisms into causal

connection with their movement in space. He tells us in his botanical

fragments, that in all animals which have the power of locomotion, the

female is distinct from the male, one creature being female, another

male, but both being of the same species, as in humankind. In plants

on the contrary these powers are combined and the male is not distinct

from the female; each plant therefore reproduces itself and emits

no fertilising material; and he adds, that in animals which do not

move, as those that have shells and those that live attached to some

other substance, male and female are not distinguished, for their

life resembles that of plants; at the same time they are called male

and female by resemblance and analogy, and there is a certain slight

distinction. In like manner some trees produce fruits while others do

not, though they aid fruit-bearing trees in the production of fruit, as

happens in the case of the fig-tree and the caprifig.

In comparison with these views of Aristotle those of his disciple

Theophrastus[91] appear to some extent enlightened, and to rest on a

wider experience, but even his observation supplies nothing of interest

on the subject; for he says that some blossoms of the ‘mali medicae’

produce fruit, and that some do not, and that it should be observed

whether the same thing occurs in other plants, which he might easily

have done for himself in his own garden. He is more concerned with

putting his knowledge into logical order, than with answering the

question whether there is any sexual relation in plants. It is certain,

he says, that among plants of the same species some produce flowers and

some do not; male palms, for instance, bear flowers, the female only

fruit[92]; and he concludes the sentence by the remark, that in this

lies the difference between these plants, and those which produce no

fruit, and that it is obvious that there must be a great difference

in the flowers. In his third book ‘De Causis’ (c. 15, 3) he says,

that terebinths are some male and some female, and that the former are

barren and are therefore called male. That Theophrastus in all these

matters trusted to the relations of others is shown by a passage in

the same book (c. 18, 1), where he says, ‘What men say, that the fruit

of the female date-palm does not perfect itself unless the blossom

of the male with its dust is shaken over it, is indeed wonderful,

but resembles the caprification of the fig, and it might almost be

concluded that the female plant is not by itself sufficient for the

perfecting of the fœtus; but this cannot be the case in one genus or

two, but either in all or in many.’ We observe the grand style in which

the Greek philosopher dismisses this important question, and how far he

is from condescending to make an observation for himself.

It appears that in Pliny’s time the hypothesis of a sexual difference

in plants had grown up and become confirmed in the minds if not of

writers, yet of those who occupied themselves with nature; Pliny in his

‘Historia Mundi,’ describing the relation between the male and female

date-palm, calls the pollen-dust the material of fertilisation, and

says that naturalists tell us that all trees and even herbs have the

two sexes[93].

If this theme supplied little material for reflection to philosophers,

it did not fail to excite the fancy of the poets. De Candolle cites

the verses of Ovid and Claudian on the subject, and passing over

the intervening centuries for a very sufficient reason notices the

lively poetic description of two date-palms in Brindisi and Otranto

by Jovianus Pontanus in 1505. But nothing was gained in this way for

natural science.

Treviranus in his ‘Physiologie der Gewächse[93]’ (1838), II. p. 371,

has well described the state of knowledge on this subject among the

botanists of Germany and the Netherlands in the 16th century. ‘The

idea of a male sex in such plants as Abrotanum, Asphodelus, Filix,

Polygonum mas et femina, was founded only on difference of habit, and

not on the parts which are essential to it. But it should be observed

that it is the less learned among the older botanists, Fuchs, Mattioli,

Tabernaemontan, who make most frequent use of this mode of designating

plants; the more learned, as Conrad Gesner, de l’Écluse, J. Bauhin

employ it only in the case of a plant already known. De l’Écluse it

is true in describing the plants which he found often notes the form,

colour, and even the number of the stamens; in Carica Papaya he calls

the individual with stamens the male, and the one with carpels the

female, since he holds them to belong to different sexes, though of the

same species; but he is satisfied with saying, that it is affirmed that

the two are so far connected, that the female produces no fruit if the

male is separated from it by any great distance (‘Curae posteriores,’

42).

The case of the botanists above-mentioned is simply one of ignorance;

in the botanical philosopher Cesalpino on the contrary we see a

consequence of the Aristotelian system, which leads him distinctly to

reject the hypothesis of separate sexual organs in plants as opposed to

their nature. It is difficult to understand how De Candolle, at page 48

of his ‘Physiologie végétale,’ can say that Cesalpino recognised the

presence of sexes in plants. His conception of vegetable seed-grains

as analogous to the male seed in animals must have made it impossible

for him to understand sexuality in plants. So too his notion that the

seed is derived from the pith as the principle of life in plants,

in connection with which he says at page 11 of the first of his

sixteen books; ‘Non fuit autem necesse in plantis genituram aliquam

distinctam a materia secerni, ut in animalibus, quae mari et femina

distinguuntur.’ He regarded the parts of the flower which surround the

ovary, or are separate from it, together with the stamens as simply

envelopes of the foetus; and though he knew, as has been already shown,

that in some plants, the hazel, chestnut, Ricinus, Taxus, Mercurialis,

Urtica, Cannabis, Mais, the flowers are separate from the fruit, and

even mentions that the barren individuals are called male, and the

fruit-bearing female, he understood this only as a popular expression,

without really admitting a sexual relation. Respecting the words male

and female he says at page 15: ‘Quod ideo fieri videtur quia feminae

materia temperatior sit, maris autem calidior; quod enim in fructum

transire debuisset, ob superfluam caliditatem evanuit in flores,

in eo tamen genere feminas melius provenire et fecundiores fieri

aiunt, si juxta mares serantur, ut in palma est animadversum, quasi

halitus quidam ex mari efflans debilem feminae calorem expleat ad

fructificandum.’

There is no mention of the pollen here, still less any attempt to

extend what had been observed in dioecious plants to the ordinary

cases, in which flowers and pistil, as Cesalpino would say, are united

in the same individual. His view of the relation between the seed and

the shoot, cited above on page 47, shows that he conceived of the

formation of seeds as only a nobler form of propagation than that by

buds, but not essentially distinct from it. The idea of sexuality in

plants was not in fact consonant with Cesalpino’s interpretation of

Aristotelian teaching.

Prosper Alpino’s account (1592) of the pollination of the date-palm

contains nothing new, except that he had seen it in Egypt himself[94].

The Bohemian botanist Adam Zaluziansky[95] made no observations of his

own, but attempted in 1592 to reduce the traditional knowledge on the

subject to some kind of theory. The foetus, he says, is a part of the

nature of plants, which they produce out of themselves, and is thus

distinguished from the shoot which grows from the plant, as a part

from the whole, but the other as a whole from a whole. He quotes Pliny

almost word for word where he says, that observers of nature maintain

that all plants are of both sexes, but in some the sexes are conjoined,

in others they are separate; in many plants the male and female are

united, and these have the power of propagation in themselves, like

many androgynous animals; and he explains this, more explicitly than

Aristotle, from defect of locomotion in plants. This is the case, he

says, with the majority of plants. In some, as the palm, the male

and female are separated, and the female without the male produces

no fruit, and where the dust from the male does not reach the female

plant by natural means, man can assist. Zaluziansky like other writers

is anxious that plants of different sexes should not be taken for

different species. He refers also to the popular distinction of many

plants into male and female according to certain external peculiarities.

Jung again must certainly have known the facts and views that were

current in his time; but there is nothing in his botanical writings to

show that he entertained the idea of a real sexuality in plants, of the

necessity of the co-operation of two sexes in the work of propagation.

It might almost be believed that the most learned and serious men, such

as Cesalpino and Jung, were just those, who regarded the hypothesis of

sexuality in plants as an absurdity, and shrunk from its consideration.

This impression is conveyed too by Malpighi’s ‘Anatomie des Plantes.’

It was Malpighi who gave the first careful account of the development

of the seed, and studied the earlier stages in the growth of the embryo

in the embryo-sac; and yet even he says nothing of the co-operation

of the dust contained in the anthers in the formation of the embryo,

and does not once mention the views of former writers. Malpighi,

like Cesalpino, regarded the formation of seeds as only another kind

of ordinary bud-formation, and propagation as only another kind of

nutrition. He mentions (p. 52) incidentally that plants with unfruitful

flowers are designated as male, but treats this as a popular expression

merely, and ultimately propounds the theory that the stamens and the

floral envelopes remove a portion of the sap from the flower, in order

to purify the sap for the production of the seeds (p. 56).

In all accounts of the theory of sexuality in plants, a botanist

otherwise unknown in history, Sir Thomas Millington, is named as the

person who first claimed for the stamens the character of male organs

of generation. The only record of the fact, however, is contained in

the following words of Grew in his ‘Anatomy of Plants’ (1682), ch. 5,

sect. 3, p. 171: ‘In conversation on this matter (namely the connection

of the stamens, called by Grew the attire[96], with the formation of

seeds) with our learned Savilian Professor Sir Thomas Millington, he

told me he was of opinion that the attire served as the male organ in

the production of the seed. I replied at once, that I was of the same

opinion, and gave him some reasons for it, answering at the same time

some objections that might be brought against it.’ Grew gives on p.

172 the following summary of his ideas on the subject[97]; it would

appear, he says, that the attire serves to remove some superfluous

parts of the sap, as a preparatory process to the production of seed.

As the floral envelopes (foliature) serve to remove the volatile and

saline sulphur-parts, so the attire serves to lessen and adjust the

gaseous, in order that the seed may become more oily and its principles

be better fixed. Here we find ourselves on the ground of the chemistry

of the day, in which sulphur, salt, and oil play the chief parts.

Consequently, continues Grew, the flower has usually a stronger smell

than the attire, because the saline sulphur is stronger than the

gaseous, which is too subtle to affect the sense. Closely adhering to

Malpighi’s view he goes on to compare these processes in the flower

with processes in the ovary of animals, inasmuch as they qualify

the sap in the ovary for the approaching formation of seed, and he

says that as the young and early attire before it opens contains the

superfluous part of the female organ, so after it is opened it probably

performs the office of the male. But how confused his ideas still were

on this point may be further seen by examination of the passage which

follows in his book (page 172, section 7), where, speaking of the

single flowers in the head of the Compositae, he regards the blade,

that is the style and stigma, of the floral attire as a portion of a

male organ, and the globulets (pollen-grains) and other small particles

upon the blade and in the thecae (anthers) of the seed-like attire as

a vegetable sperm, which subsequently when the parts are duly matured

falls down upon the seed-case and so touches it with a prolific virtue.

He meets the objection, that the same plant must consequently be both

male and female, with the fact, that snails and other animals are

similarly constituted. That the pollen-grains communicate a prolific

virtue to the ovary (uterus) or to its juices by simply falling upon

it, he thinks is rendered probable by comparing this with the process

of fertilisation in many animals, and here Grew has some curious

remarks. The section closes with the observation that to expect

complete similarity in this matter between plants and animals, is to

require that the plant should not only resemble an animal, but should

actually be one.

If now we ask ourselves, what it really was that was gained from

Millington and Grew, we find that it was simply the conjecture, that

the anthers produce the male element in fertilisation, and that this

view was closely connected in their minds with the strangest chemical

theories and analogies from animal life. It is remarkable by what

indirect ways science sometimes advances. If Grew had only been

prepared to assume some kind of sexuality in plants, he need only have

taken up Theophrastus’ statement, that the anther-dust of the male

palm is shaken over the female to produce fertilisation; and since

both Grew and Malpighi observed the pollen in the anthers, they might

at once and in reliance on this experiment of a thousand years before

have come to the conclusion that the stamens are the male organs. But

Grew never mentions the ancient views and experiences. Like other

writers before Camerarius, he made no attempt to answer the question

by experiment. It was a step in advance, when Ray in his ‘Historia

Plantarum’ (1693), I. cap. 10, p. 17; II. p. 1250, threw some light on

the very obscure train of thought in Grew’s mind, and did something to

put it on the right track, by referring to the case of dioecious plants

and to the old experience of the date-palm, but he too made no attempt

to settle the question by experiment. The true discoverer of sexuality

in plants, Camerarius, was however engaged in the experimental solution

of the problem two years before the appearance of Ray’s ‘Historia

Plantarum.’ Ray’s remarks on the subject in the preface to his ‘Sylloge

Stirpium’ (1694) are only assertion founded on no experiments. But

if any are prepared to attribute greater value to the utterances of

Grew and Ray, the comparison of them with the way in which Camerarius

addressed himself to the question will show at once, that it was he

who so far advanced the theory of the subject as to make it accessible

to experimental treatment, as he undoubtedly was the first who not

only undertook experiments on the subject but carried them out with

the skill which will appear in the following section. Linnaeus was

right when he says in his ‘Amoenitates’ (1749), I. p. 62, that it was

Camerarius who first clearly demonstrated (perspicue demonstravit) the

sexuality of plants and the mode of their propagation.

2. ESTABLISHMENT OF THE DOCTRINE OF SEXUALITY IN PLANTS BY RUDOLPH

JACOB CAMERARIUS. 1691-1694.

We have seen that all that was known with regard to sexuality in

plants up to 1691 was comprised in the facts related by Theophrastus

concerning the date-palm, the terebinth, and the ‘malus medica,’ and in

the conjectures of Millington, Grew, and Ray, while Malpighi’s views in

opposition to these later authors were considered to be equally well

founded. The sexuality of plants could only be raised to the rank of

a scientific fact in one way, that namely of experiment; it had to be

shown that no seed capable of germination could be formed without the

co-operation of the pollen. All historic records concur in proving,

that Camerarius was the first who attempted to solve the question

in this way, and that he followed up this attempt by many other

experiments. It is quite another question how the fertilising matter

reaches the germ which is capable of being fertilised, and this could

not be entertained till experiment had established the fact, that the

pollen is absolutely indispensable to fertilisation.

To Johann Christian Mikan, Professor of Botany in Prague, is due

the merit of having collected the scattered and therefore almost

forgotten writings of RUDOLPH JACOB CAMERARIUS[98], and published

them, together with some similar works of Koelreuter, at Prague in 1797

under the title, ‘R. J. Camerarii Opuscula Botanici Argumenti.’ This

book, apparently little known, will be my principal authority for the

following remarks. The short preliminary communications are printed

without alteration from the ninth and tenth year of the second, and

from the fifth and sixth year of the third decury of the Ephemerides

of the Leopoldina; the letter to Valentin, which will be noticed again

further on, together with an abstract of the same and an answer of

Valentin, are given according to Gmelin’s edition of 1749.

Camerarius had observed, that a female mulberry-tree once bore fruit,

though no male tree (amentaceis floribus) was in its neighbourhood,

but that the berries contained only abortive and empty seeds, which he

compared to the addled eggs of a bird. His attention was roused, and

he made his first experiment on another dioecious plant, Mercurialis

annua; he took in the end of May two female specimens of the wild plant

(they were usually called male, but he knew them to be the female) and

set them in pots apart from others. The plants throve, the fruit was

abundant and filled out, but when half ripe they began to dry up, and

not one produced perfect seeds; his communication on this subject is

dated December 28, 1691. In the third decury of the Ephemerides, year

5, he relates that in a sowing of spinach he had found monoecious as

well as dioecious plants, as Ray had observed in Urtica romana, and he

himself again in three other species. The disregard of this fact was

afterwards the cause of erroneous interpretation of the experiments and

of doubt about sexuality.

But Camerarius’ chief composition on the subject of sexuality in

plants is his letter ‘De sexu Plantarum,’ which is often mentioned but

apparently little read, and which he addressed to Valentin, Professor

in Giessen, on Aug. 25, 1694. It is the most elaborate treatise on the

subject which had as yet been written, or indeed which appeared before

the middle of the 18th century, and contains more profound observations

than were made by any other botanist before Koelreuter. The style

contrasts favourably with the style of the writers of the time, and

is thoroughly that of modern natural science; it combines perfect

knowledge with careful criticism of the literature of the subject;

the construction of the flower is explained more clearly than it had

ever been before, or was again for a long time after, and expressly

for the purpose of making the meaning of his experiments on sexuality

intelligible. The whole tone of the letter shows that Camerarius was

deeply impressed with the extraordinary importance of the question, and

that he was concerned to establish the existence of sexuality by every

possible means.

After detailed examination of the parts of the flower, the anthers and

pollen, the behaviour of the ovules before and after fertilisation,

the phenomena of double flowers and similar matters, from all which he

cautiously deduces the meaning of the anthers (apices), he proceeds

to bring forward direct proofs. He says, ‘In the second division of

plants, in which the male flowers are separated from the female on the

same plant, I have learnt by two examples the bad effect produced by

removing the anthers. When I removed the male flowers (globulos) of

Ricinus before the anthers had expanded, and prevented the growth of

the younger ones but preserved the ovaries that were already formed,

I never obtained perfect seeds, but observed empty vessels, which

fell finally to the ground exhausted and dried up. In like manner I

carefully cut off the stigmas of Mais that were already dependent, in

consequence of which the two ears remained entirely without seeds,

though the number of abortive husks (vesicularum) was very great.’

He then refers to his former communications to the Ephemerides on

dioecious plants, and says that the case of the spinach confirmed these

results. After alluding to similar relations in animals he continues,

‘In the vegetable kingdom no production of seeds, the most perfect

gift of nature, the general means for the maintenance of the species,

takes place, unless the anthers have prepared beforehand the young

plant contained in the seed (nisi praecedanei florum apices prius ipsam

plantam debite praeparaverint). It appears, therefore, justifiable to

give these apices a nobler name and to ascribe to them the significance

of male sexual organs, since they are the receptacles in which the

seed itself, that is that powder which is the most subtle part of the

plant, is secreted and collected, to be afterwards supplied from them.

It is equally evident, that the ovary with its style (seminale vasculum

cum sua plumula sive stilo) represents the female sexual organ in the

plant.’ Further on he assents to Aristotle’s theory of the mixture of

sexes in plants, and adduces Swammerdam’s discovery of hermaphroditism

in snails, which he says is the exception in animals but the rule in

plants. One erroneous notion which was only seen to be erroneous a

hundred years later by Konrad Sprengel, and not finally refuted till

within the last few years, was his belief that hermaphrodite flowers

fertilise themselves, and this by comparison with the snails he thinks

is strange, though most botanists till down to our own times, in spite

of Koelreuter and Sprengel, did not find it strange. That sexuality

in plants was admitted by botanists, Ray excepted, at the close of

the 17th century at most in a figurative sense, but that Camerarius

conceived of it as in the animal kingdom, and sought to make this

conception prevail, is apparent from the strong expressions, which he

uses to show that in dioecious plants the distinction between male and

female plants is not to be understood figuratively. He says that the

new foetus, the young plant contained in the seed, is formed inside

the coat of the seed after the plant has flowered, exactly as the new

foetus is formed in animals. The authority of the ancients was still

great at that time, for Camerarius thinks it necessary to insist that

the views of Aristotle, Empedocles, and Theophrastus are not opposed

to his sexual theory. Camerarius appears as the true investigator

of nature, endowed with the true discerning spirit in disregarding

the question which had already been raised with respect to animals,

whether the ovum or the spermatozoid (vermis) produces the foetus,

because the first thing to be done was to establish the fact of a

sexual difference, not the mode of generation; he thinks it certainly

desirable to examine and see what the pollen-grains contain, how far

they penetrate into the female parts, whether they advance uninjured

as far as the seed which receives them, or what they discharge if they

burst before reaching it. He does full justice to Grew’s services in

connection with the knowledge of the pollen and its function.

It does all honour to the scientific spirit in Camerarius, that he

raises a number of objections to his own theory; one was, that Lycopods

and Equisetaceae produce, as he thinks, no young plants from their

pollen; he suspected therefore that they have no seed. It should be

remembered that the germination of Equisetaceae and Lycopods was not

observed till the 19th century. An objection, more important at the

time, was that a third ear of a castrated maize plant contained eleven

fertile seeds, of whose origin he could give no account. He was even

more disturbed by finding that three plants of hemp taken from the

field and cultivated in the garden produced fertile seeds, and he tries

to explain it by supposing various ways in which pollination might have

taken place unobserved. This led him to make a fresh experiment; next

year he placed a pot containing seedlings of hemp in a closed room;

three male and three female plants grew up; the three male were cut off

(not by himself) before their flowers opened; the female produced a

great number of abortive seeds, but also a good many fruitful ones. His

opponents and those who sought to appropriate his honours fastened,

as is usual, on these failures, without being able to account for the

experiments which had been successful. The statement of his failures is

our best proof of the exactness of his observations, for we now know

the cause of failure, which Camerarius himself observed, but did not

apply in explanation. We may assume that he would have cleared up this

point in his splendid investigations in a quieter time, for at the end

of his letter he laments the unjust war then raging; it was the time

of the predatory campaign of Louis XIV. To his letter is appended a

Latin ode of twenty-six stanzas by an unknown poet, probably a pupil

of his own; it is an epitome of the ‘Epistola de sexu Plantarum,’ as

Goethe’s well-known poem contains the chief points of his doctrine

of metamorphosis, but it resembles Goethe’s composition in no other

respect; it begins

Novi canamus regna cupidinis,

Novos amores, gaudia non prius

Audita plantarum, latentes

Igniculos, veneremque miram.

3. DISSEMINATION OF THE NEW DOCTRINE; ITS ADHERENTS AND OPPONENTS.

1700-1760.

No part of botany has so often engaged the pen of the historian, as the

doctrine of sexuality in plants; but the majority of writers have not

gone to the original sources for their information, and the consequence

has been that the merits of the real founders and promoters of the

doctrine have often been thrown into the shade for the benefit of

others; even German botanists have ascribed the services of Camerarius

to Frenchmen and Englishmen, because they were unacquainted with his

writings, or were unable to judge of the question and its solution.

We shall here endeavour to show from the records of the 18th century

how far anyone before Koelreuter really contributed anything of value

to the establishment of the sexual theory. As is usually the case

in great revolutions in science, some simply denied the new theory,

many adopted it without understanding the question, others formed a

perverse and distorted conception of it under the influence of reigning

prejudices, while others again sought to appropriate to themselves

the merit of the real discoverer; there were but few who with a right

understanding of the question advanced it by new investigations.

The botanists who endeavoured to aid in determining the matter by their

own observations may be distinguished into those, to whom the important

point was the enquiry whether the pollen is absolutely necessary to

the formation of seed, such as Bradley, Logan, Miller, and Gleditsch,

and those who like Geoffroy and Morland assumed that sexuality was no

longer an open question, and who were bent on observing in what way

the pollen effects fertilisation in the ovule. But there was another

class of writers altogether, who, believing that they could deal with

the subject without making observations and experiments of their own,

either like Leibnitz, Burckhard, and Vaillant, simply accepted the

results of the observations of others on general grounds, or like

Linnaeus and his disciples, endeavoured to draw fresh proofs from

philosophical principles, or like Tournefort and Pontedera, simply

rejected the idea of sexuality in plants. Lastly, we might mention

Patrick Blair who did nothing himself, but merely appropriated the

general results of Camerarius’ observations, and has had his reward

in being quoted even by German writers as one of the founders of the

sexual theory[99].

We have now to see what was really brought to light by further

experiment and observation. BRADLEY appears to have been the first who

experimented on hermaphrodite flowers with a view to establish the

sexuality of plants (‘New improvements in Gardening’ (1717), I. p.

20). He planted twelve tulips by themselves in a secluded part of his

garden, and as soon as they began to flower removed the anthers; the

result was, that not one of them produced seeds, while four hundred

tulips in another part of the same garden produced seeds in abundance.

Twenty years pass by before another experiment is made. JAMES

LOGAN[100], Governor of Pennsylvania, an Irishman by birth, set some

plants of maize in each corner of a plot of ground, which was forty

feet broad, and about eighty long, and experimented on them in various

ways. In October he noted the following results:—the cobs of the

plants, from which he had removed the male panicles when the stigmas

were already dependent, presented a good appearance; but closer

examination showed that they were unfertilised, with the exception of

one which was turned in the direction from which the wind might have

conveyed pollen from other plants. On the cobs, from which he had

removed some of the stigmas, he found exactly as many grains as he had

left stigmas. One cob, which had been wrapped in muslin before the

appearance of the stigmas, produced only empty husks.

Miller’s experiments in 1751, which Koelreuter has extracted from the

‘Gardener’s Dictionary,’ part II[101], are specially interesting,

because the aid of insects in pollination was then observed for the

first time. Miller planted twelve tulips, six or seven ells apart, and

carefully removed the stamens as soon as the flowers began to open;

he imagined that he should thus entirely prevent fertilisation; some

days after he saw some bees load themselves with pollen in an ordinary

tulip-bed and fly over to his imperfect flowers. After they were gone,

he observed that they had left on the stigmas a quantity of pollen

sufficient for fertilisation, and these tulips did in fact produce

seed. Miller also kept some female plants of spinach apart from the

male, and found that they bore large seeds without embryos.

Professor GLEDITSCH, Director of the Botanic Garden in Berlin,

described in the same year (‘Histoire de l’Académie royale des sciences

et des lettres’ for the year 1749, published in 1751 at Berlin), an

experiment on the artificial fertilisation of Palma dactylifera folio

flabelliformi, which was no doubt our Chamaerops humilis, since he says

himself in page 105 that it was Linnaeus’ Chamaerops, and Koelreuter

speaks of the plant in his report by that name. This treatise, in point

of scientific tone and learned handling of the question, is the best

that appeared between the time of Camerarius and that of Koelreuter.

We learn from the introduction, that in the year 1749 there were few

who doubted the existence of sexuality in plants. The author says

that he has endeavoured to attain to perfect conviction on the point

by many years’ experiments with plants of the most various kinds. Of

late years he had chiefly selected dioecious plants for investigation,

Ceratonia, Terebinthus, Lentiscus, and the species of date-palm

which is commonly called Chamaerops. After relating the formation of

fertile seeds in Terebinth and the mastic-tree produced by artificial

pollination, he turns to Chamaerops, of which species Prince Eugene

had repeatedly caused specimens of considerable size to be brought

over from Africa; a specimen cost as much as a hundred pistoles; but

they died without flowering. ‘Our palm in Berlin,’ he continues, ‘is

a female, and may be eighty years old; the gardener asserts that it

has never borne fruit, and I have myself never seen fertile seeds on

it during fifteen years.’ As there was no male tree of the kind in

Berlin, Gleditsch procured some pollen from the garden of Caspar Bose

in Leipsic. In the course of the nine-days’ journey the greater part

of the pollen escaped from the anthers, and Gleditsch feared that it

was spoilt; but he was reassured by the Leipsic botanist Ludwig, who

had had experience in Algiers and Tunis, and who informed him that the

Africans usually employ dry pollen that has been kept for some time for

the purpose of fertilisation. Though the flowering of the female tree

was nearly over, he strewed the loose pollen on its flowers, and tied

the withered inflorescence of the male plant to a late-blowing shoot of

the female. The result was that fruit ripened in the following winter,

and germinated in the spring of 1750. A second attempt conducted in a

similar manner produced an equally favourable result[102].

Koelreuter, who repeats this account in his ‘Historie der Versuche,’

a record of the experiments made between the years 1691 and 1752 on

the sexes of plants, ends his narrative with these words: ‘These

are, as far as I know, all the attempts which have been made and

described since the year 1691 to prove the existence of sexes in

plants.’ Koelreuter’s book was written to show that experiment only can

determine the question of sexuality in the vegetable kingdom, and that

no one beside Camerarius, Bradley, Logan, Miller, and Gleditsch had

pursued this method up to 1752.

While these botanists occupied themselves with the question whether

there was a distinction of sexes in the vegetable kingdom, we meet with

two writers at the beginning of the 18th century who regard sexuality

as proved, and who take up the question of the mode in which the

pollen brings about the formation of the embryo. Both were adherents

of the theory of evolution, bad observers, and not familiar with

the literature of the subject. The first is SAMUEL MORLAND. In the

‘Philosophical Transactions’ of 1702 and 1703, p. 1474, he names Grew

as the man who had observed that the pollen answers to the male semen,

but he makes no allusion to Camerarius’ experiments, the only ones

which had as yet been made. He himself suggests that the young seeds

may be compared to unfertilised ova, while the pollen-dust (farina)

contains embryo plants, one of which must find its way into every

ovule (ovum) in order to fertilise it. If so, the style must be a tube

through which the embryos pass into the ova. He supposes the pollen in

Fritillaria imperialis to be washed by wind and rain from the stigma

through the style into the ovary, without reflecting that the movement

must be an upward one in the hanging flower. If I could prove, he says,

that embryos are never found in unfertilised seeds, this would be a

demonstration; but I have never been so fortunate as to settle this

point. He does not mention that Camerarius had shown this ten years

before; he can only give as the main argument for his conjecture,

that in beans the embryo lies near the orifice of the seed-coat (the

micropyle), which shows that he was not aware that the two large

bodies in the seed of the bean (the cotyledons) belong to the embryo,

a fact which his countrymen Grew and Ray had already pointed out. It

appears therefore, that Morland supplied no answer to the question how

fertilisation takes place; his treatise contains nothing more than the

assertion that the embryo is already contained in the pollen-grain, and

that it reaches the seed through a hollow style and is there developed,

an entirely erroneous and not even an original idea, for it was the

offspring of the theory of evolution which was at that time in vogue.

GEOFFROY’S communications (‘Histoire de l’Académie royale des

sciences,’ Paris, 1714, p. 210) contain a few more facts. He mentions

neither Grew, Camerarius, nor even Morland, but connects his own

observations of 1711 on the structure and purpose of the more important

parts of the flower with those of Tournefort, who was a decided

opponent of the doctrine of sexuality in plants. The parts of the

flower are hastily described, figures are given of some forms of

pollen-grains, and the notion that the style is a tube receives some

apparent confirmation from the experiment of drawing water through

the style of a lily. The view that the pollen is not an excrement, as

Tournefort and Malpighi had maintained, is defended partly by arguments

which prove nothing, for instance, by the erroneous assertion that

the anthers are always so disposed that the extremity of the pistil

must necessarily receive their dust. The only proof offered for the

fact that seeds are infertile if deprived of the co-operation of the

pollen, is a very hasty account of some experiments with maize and

Mercurialis. The result of these experiments, as well as some other

remarks of Geoffroy, remind us of the text of Camerarius’ letter to an

extent which mere accident will hardly account for. If Geoffroy really

made these experiments, which is open to some doubt, yet they were

made fifteen years later than those of Camerarius, who did make the

same experiments among others and has described them better. Geoffroy

next endeavours to show how the pollen effects the fertilisation,

and offers two views on the subject; first, that the dust contains

much sulphur and is decomposed on the pistil, the more subtle parts

forcing their way into the ovary, where they set up a fermentation

and cause the formation of the embryo; the second view is, that the

pollen-grains already contain the embryos, which find their way into

the seeds and are there hatched. This is Morland’s notion, who however

is not mentioned. Geoffroy considers the latter to be the more probable

hypothesis, chiefly because no embryo is found in the ovule before

fertilisation, and also because the seed of the bean has an orifice

(the micropyle); it does not occur to him that these facts speak as

much for the first as for the second view.

Enough has been produced to show that Morland and Geoffroy contributed

nothing either to the establishment of the fact of sexuality in

plants, or to the decision of the question how the pollen effects

fertilisation in the ovule. Nevertheless I have mentioned these two

men immediately after those who really developed the sexual theory,

because they at least took their stand on experience, and endeavoured,

though unsuccessfully, to demonstrate conditions of organisation

which should explain the process of fertilisation. We come now to the

names of men—Leibnitz, Burckhard, Vaillant, Linnaeus—who are usually

supposed to have aided in establishing the sexual theory, but who

may be proved to have contributed nothing whatever to the scientific

demonstration of that doctrine. First as regards the philosopher

Leibnitz; he says in a letter of 1701, from which Jessen has quoted

the most important parts in his ‘Botanik der Gegenwart und Vorzeit,’

1864, p. 287: ‘Flowers are closely connected with the propagation

of plants, and to discover distinctions in the mode of propagation

(principiis generationis) is very useful,’ etc.; again, ‘A new and

extremely important point of comparison will be hereafter supplied

by the new investigations into the double sex in plants,’ alluding,

according to Jessen, to those of Camerarius and Burckhard. We shall

not expect to find that Leibnitz made experiments himself, and the

words quoted merely indicate that he wished to see the parts of the

flower employed for purposes of classification, because according to

the observations of others they are the instruments of propagation.

The remark applies in a still higher degree to Burckhard, who in his

letter to Leibnitz of 1702, quoted above on p. 83, further developed

the idea intimated by Leibnitz, for he too accepted the sexuality of

plants as an established and self-evident truth. The address with which

Sebastian Vaillant opened his lectures at the Royal Gardens in Paris in

1717 has often been noticed by the historians of botany. De Candolle,

who assigns to him an important share in developing the sexual theory,

says[103], that in this address he propounded the sexuality of plants

most expressly and as an acknowledged fact, and that he described very

graphically the way in which the anthers fertilise the pistil, into

which description little that was correct probably found its way, since

it required Koelreuter, Sprengel, and the botanists of quite modern

times to clear up this point. Vaillant therefore can only have the

credit of an eloquent description of what was then accepted. However,

De Candolle goes on to say what Vaillant’s discoveries were, and on

the following page we read that Linnaeus confirmed these discoveries

in the year 1736 in his ‘Fundamenta Botanica,’ and made skilful use of

them in the year 1735 in laying the foundations of his sexual system.

We have already in the second chapter of the first book explained the

confusion of ideas which lies at the bottom of these and many similar

statements, and in the same chapter have sufficiently indicated

our opinion respecting Linnaeus’ share in the establishment of the

doctrine of sexuality. It was the character of Linnaeus’ mind to

attach slight value to the experimental proof of a fact, even when,

like that of sexuality, it could only be proved by experiment; from

the point of view of his scholastic philosophy it was more important

with him to deduce the existence of this fact, in what seemed to

him the philosophic way, from the idea of the plant or from reason,

and in doing so to drag in a variety of analogies from the animal

kingdom; hence he acknowledged the services rendered by Camerarius,

but troubled himself little about his experiments which alone could

decide the question, while he undertakes himself to prove the existence

of sexes in plants on grounds of reason and the like in his peculiar

fashion. How he did this in the ‘Fundamenta’ and in the ‘Philosophia

Botanica’ has been already shown. Here we will briefly notice the

often-quoted dissertation, ‘Sponsalia Plantarum,’ in the first volume

of the ‘Amoenitates Academicae’ (1749). He first gives the views of

Millington, Grew, Camerarius and others; then on p. 63 he accepts the

statement of Gustav Wahlboom, that he, Linnaeus, had devoted infinite

labour to this question in 1735 in the ‘Fundamenta Botanica,’ and had

there (§§ 132-150) proved the sexes of plants with so great certainty

that no one would hesitate to found on it a detailed classification

of plants. Here then we have once more the construction of Linnaeus’

so-called sexual system introduced into the question of sexuality,

as if it had anything whatever to do with the establishing the

existence of sexes in plants, and as to the infinite labour (infinito

labore) which Linnaeus is supposed to have given to the question,

the paragraphs cited from the ‘Fundamenta’ contain the scholastic

subtleties quoted in Book I. chap. 2, but not one single really new

proof. The arguments in the dissertation we are considering are of

exactly the same kind, and it is itself only a lengthy paraphrase of

Linnaeus’ propositions in the ‘Fundamenta Botanica,’ illustrated by

experiments made by others, and with the addition of a few unimportant

observations, some of which are misinterpreted. We read, for instance,

p. 101, ‘Nectar is found in almost all flowers, and Pontedera thinks

that it is absorbed by the seeds that they may be the longer preserved;

it might seem that bees must be hurtful to flowers, since they

carry away the nectar and the pollen;’ but Linnaeus, differing from

Pontedera, remarks that ‘bees do more good than harm, because they

scatter the pollen on the pistil, though it is not yet ascertained what

is the importance of the nectar in the physiology of the flower.’ This

fact of the assistance rendered by insects, which was soon afterwards

better described by Miller, is not further examined in this place, for

Linnaeus goes on to speak of gourds, that they do not perfect their

fruit under glass, because the wind is prevented from effecting the

pollination.

One experiment only is mentioned, but not the person by whom it

was made. We read at p. 99 that in the year 1723 in the garden of

Stenbrohuld, the male flowers of a gourd in bloom were daily removed,

and that no fruit was formed. Soon after allusion is made to the

artifices used by gardeners to obtain hybrid varieties of tulips and

cabbage, but the matter is treated rather as agreeable trifling. In the

third volume of the Amoenitates of the year 1764, in which Koelreuter’s

first enquiries into hybridisation had been already published, we find

a dissertation on hybrids by Haartman, which was certainly written

as early as 1751. In this treatise the necessary existence of hybrid

forms is concluded from philosophic principles, as Linnaeus had deduced

sexuality from similar principles; no experiments are made, but

certain forms are arbitrarily assumed to be hybrids; a Veronica spuria

gathered in the garden at Upsala in 1750 is asserted to be the product

of Veronica maritima as the mother and of Veronica officinalis as the

father, but the only reason for assigning the paternity to the latter

plant is that it grew close by. We find also a Delphinium hybridum

stated on similar grounds to be the offspring of Delphinium elatum

fertilised by Aconitum napellus, and a Saponaria hybrida to have arisen

from the pollination of Saponaria officinalis by a Gentiana; and we are

told among other things that Actaea spicata alba is the offspring of

Actaea spicata nigra fertilised by Rhus toxicodendron. It is obvious

that in all this there was no observation of decisive facts, but simple

conclusions from arbitrary premises.

We conclude therefore that neither Linnaeus nor his disciples in the

interval that elapsed between the labours of Camerarius and Koelreuter

contributed a single new or valid proof to the establishment of the

fact, that there is a sexual difference in plants and that hybrids are

formed between different species; and if many later botanists talked

of the great services rendered by Linnaeus to the sexual theory, and

even regarded him as its most eminent founder, this arose partly from

the fact that they were unable to distinguish between his scholastic

deductions and scientific proof, and partly from that confusion of the

idea of sexuality with a classification of plants founded on the sexual

organs, to which we have before called attention. Such a confusion

of ideas gave rise to the claims which Renzi asserted on behalf of

Patrizi, but which Ernst Meyer, in his ‘Geschichte der Botanik,’ iv.

p. 420, has refuted on this very ground. Even in our own century De

Candolle has been blamed by Johann Jacob Roemer for not giving Linnaeus

the credit of being the actual founder of the sexual theory.

A few words in conclusion on those writers, who after Camerarius’

investigations still denied sexuality in plants, because they knew

nothing of what had been written on the subject or were incapable of

appreciating scientific proof. Tournefort must first be mentioned

on account of the great authority which he enjoyed with botanists

during the first half of the 18th century. In his ‘Institutiones rei

herbariae’ of the year 1700 (Book I. p. 69), with which we have already

made acquaintance, he treats of the physiological significance of the

parts of the flower, apparently in entire ignorance of Camerarius’

researches, and at any rate with a leaning to Malpighi’s views. He

makes the petals take up nourishment from the flower-stalks, which

they further digest and supply to the growing fruit, while the

unappropriated parts of the sap pass through the filaments into the

anthers and collect in the loculaments, to be afterwards discharged as

excreta. Tournefort even doubted the necessity of the pollination of

the female date-palm. The truth is that he was not well acquainted with

the facts, and was led astray by his preconceptions. The same was the

case with the Italian botanist Pontedera; in his ‘Anthologia’ of 1720

he reproduces Malpighi’s unlucky notion, and at the same time makes the

ovary absorb the nectar for the perfecting of the seed; he regarded

the male flower in dioecious plants as a useless appendage.

Valentin, to whom Camerarius addressed his famous letter ‘De sexu

plantarum’ in 1694, did his correspondent a disservice in publishing a

short abstract of it, which contained some gross misapprehensions of

the facts[104]. Alston in 1756 relying on these incorrect statements

disputed the conclusions of Camerarius, and doubted the sexual

importance of the stamens on very insufficient grounds. More reasonable

doubts were suggested by a German botanist, Möller, who observed that

female plants of spinach and hemp produced seeds even after the removal

of the male plants, and appealed to the apparently asexual propagation

of Cryptogams; these objections were answered by Kästner of Göttingen,

who pointed to the fact that dioecious plants, the willow for instance,

sometimes bear hermaphrodite flowers. The botanists in question would

never have entertained these doubts, if they had read and understood

the writings of Camerarius, or had been acquainted with the literature

of the subject.

4. THE THEORY OF EVOLUTION AND EPIGENESIS.

We have already observed the influence of the theory of evolution on

the doctrine of the fertilisation of plants in the case of Morland

and Geoffroy. We learn more about it in the work, already quoted,

of the philosopher Christian Wolff, ‘Vernünftige Gedanken von den

Wirkungen der Natur,’ Magdeburg, 1723; it will be well to give his

own words, for they will serve to show at the same time the amount of

knowledge possessed by a cultivated and well-read man in the country

of Camerarius and thirty years after the appearance of his treatise

on the sexuality of plants. In the second chapter of the fourth part,

which treats of the life, death, and generation of plants, Wolff

says: ‘Ordinarily plants are produced from seeds, for the seed not

only contains the plant in embryo but also its first food.’ He says

that propagation by means of buds is equally natural, for each bud

contains a branch in little. ‘We find inside in the flower a number of

stalks disposed in a circle, and something at the top of each, which

is full of dust and lets the dust fall on the upper part of that which

holds the seed; this organ is compared by some to the genitals of the

animal, and the dust to the male seed; they think also that the seed

is made fruitful by the dust, and that therefore the embryo must be

conveyed by the dust into the seed-case and there be formed into seeds.

I have proposed to examine into the matter, but I have always let it

escape me.’ ... ‘Since all that has been hitherto adduced is found

also in flowers which spring from bulbs, and it is also certain that

the leaves of bulbs have consequently embryos in them ... it is easy

to see that the embryos must come from the leaves of the bulbs. And

since they could as easily be conveyed from there into the seed-grains

with the sap, as into the dust which is produced in the upper part of

the flower, I am inclined to think that this is the true account of

the matter and that it will be confirmed by experience. But now comes

the main question, whence come the embryos into the sap; since they

have not an external figure only but an internal structure also, it is

not plain how they can be formed either by the mere inner movement of

the sap, or by separation of certain parts.... And this is certainly

more credible, that the embryos already exist in little in the sap and

the plant, before they are brought by some change into the condition

in which they are met with in the seed and in buds. But there is the

further question where they were previously. They must either lie one

in another in a minute form, as Malebranche especially maintains, or

they are brought from the air and the earth with the nourishing sap

into the plant, an idea which Honoratus Fabri advanced and Perrault and

Sturm developed after him. According to the first opinion the first

seed-grain must have contained everything in itself, which has grown

from it to this hour.’ But this demand goes beyond even Wolff’s powers

of belief; for, says he, it is too great a tax on the imagination to

conceive of this inclosing of germs one in another like box within box.

It is well known that such notions as these were very prevalent in

the 18th century, and that the spermatozoids of animals were thought

to lend considerable support to them; even Albert Haller after 1760

was an adherent of the theory of evolution. However confused Wolff’s

general train of thought may be, we should notice his perception of

the fact, that the theory of evolution does away with the sexual

significance of the anthers. We shall see by-and-bye, that Koelreuter

was able to form a very different idea of sexual propagation. His great

importance in the history of the sexual theory will be best learnt

from a consideration of the speculative views of his predecessors

and contemporaries. It will not be amiss therefore to disregard

chronology for a while, and to notice here the views of the Baron von

Gleichen-Russworm, and the feeble arguments of Kaspar Friedrich Wolff

against the theory of evolution. The first-named writer in his work

‘Das Neueste aus dem Reich der Pflanzen,’ 1764, relying principally on

microscopic observation of the contents of pollen-grains, supported the

view that the granules in them answer to spermatozoids in animals, and

that they find their way into the ovule and are there developed into

embryos. Yet Gleichen was at the same time a zealous supporter of the

sexual theory, and endeavoured to meet well-known objections to it by

pointing to the occurrence of female flowers on male plants of spinach;

he also made some experiments on maize and hemp in the interests of

the theory. He did not perceive that hybrids supply convincing proof

against the theory of evolution, but he rightly appealed to them as

affording strong arguments in favour of sexuality. His real knowledge

of hybrids is partly drawn from the statements of Linnaeus, with

which we have already made acquaintance; he even describes a hybrid

between a goat and a cow, and other similar ones, and he is angry

with Koelreuter for fixing such narrow limits to the occurrence of

hybrids; thus the first person who produced hybrids systematically in

the vegetable kingdom must submit to be scolded for refusing to accept

the imaginary hybrids of his contemporaries. Gleichen’s book and the

selection from his microscopic discoveries, which appeared in 1777,

abound in good detached observations; he was the first who saw and

figured the pollen-tubes of Asclepias, without of course suspecting

their real nature and importance.

Kaspar Friedrich Wolff is usually said to be the writer who refuted the

theory of evolution. It is certainly true that in his dissertation for

his doctor’s degree in 1759, the well-known ‘Theoria generationis,’

he appeared as the decided opponent of evolution; but the weight of

his arguments was not great, and the hybridisation in plants which was

discovered at about the same time by Koelreuter supplied much more

convincing proof against every form of evolution. Wolff conceived of

the act of fertilisation as simply another form of nutrition. Relying

on the observation, which is only partly true, that starved plants are

the first to bloom, he regarded the formation of flowers generally as

the expression of feeble nutrition (vegetatio languescens). On the

other hand the formation of fruit in the flower was due to the fact,

that the pistil found more perfect nourishment in the pollen. In this

Wolff was going back to an idea which had received some support from

Aristotle, and is the most barren that can be imagined, for it appears

to be utterly incapable of giving any explanation of the phenomena

connected with sexuality, and especially of accounting for the results

of hybridisation. Wolff may have rejected the theory of evolution on

such grounds as these, but he failed to perceive what it is which is

essential and peculiar in the sexual act.

5. FURTHER DEVELOPMENT OF THE SEXUAL THEORY BY JOSEPH GOTTLIEB

KOELREUTER, AND KONRAD SPRENGEL. 1761-1793.

Camerarius had shown by experiment that the co-operation of the pollen

is indispensable to the production in plants of seeds containing an

embryo, and later observers had confirmed the fact of sexuality by

further and varied experiments. The next step in the strict scientific

investigation of the matter was to determine by the same method of

experiment the share of each principle, the male and the female, in the

formation of the new plant which resulted from the sexual act. When

pollen and ovule belong to the same individual plant, the offspring

assumes the same form and the question remains undecided. It was

necessary to bring together the pollen and ovule of different plants;

this must show whether some characters are derived to the offspring

from the pollen, and others from the ovule, and what the characters are

which are thus distinguished, supposing of course that such a union of

different forms is possible. The answer to these questions could only

be obtained by experiment, that is by artificial hybridisation; for

until hybrid forms had actually been produced in this manner, it must

be quite unsafe to assume that certain wild plants owed their origin to

cross-fertilisation.

Camerarius had already raised the question in his letter, whether

cross-fertilisation in plants is possible, and had added another,

whether the progeny varies from its parents (an et quam mutatus

inde prodeat foetus). Bradley is our authority for the statement

that a gardener in London had obtained a hybrid between Dianthus

caryophyllus and Dianthus barbatus by artificial means as early as

1719; but KOELREUTER[105] was the first who investigated the question

scientifically and thoroughly. He was the first moreover who recognised

all its importance, and he applied himself to it with such admirable

and unexampled perseverance and judgment, that the results which he

obtained are still the best and most instructive, though a thousand

similar experiments have been made since his time. He also made the

first careful study of the different arrangements inside the flower in

their connection with the sexual relation, discovered the purpose of

the nectar and the co-operation of insects in pollination, and proposed

that view of the sexual act, which with some considerable modification

we must still in the main consider to be the true one, namely, that it

is a mingling together of two different substances.

If we compare Koelreuter’s writings, which are full of matter in a

small compass, with all that was produced after Camerarius, we are

astonished not only at the abundance of new thoughts, but still more

at their wonderful clearness and perspicuity, and the sureness of the

foundation laid for them in observation and experiment. In reading the

observations of Linnaeus, Gleichen, and Wolff on the sexual theory

we step into a world of thought which has long been strange and is

scarcely intelligible to us, and which in the present day possesses

only a historical interest. Koelreuter’s works on the contrary seem

to belong to our own time; they contain the best knowledge which we

possess on the question of sexuality, and have not become antiquated

after the lapse of more than a hundred years. We see by his example

that one really gifted thinker with the requisite perseverance will

effect more in a few years, than many less gifted observers in the

course of many years. But the same thing happened now, which happens

often in similar cases and which happened to Camerarius; a much longer

time elapsed before others learnt to understand the meaning and

importance of Koelreuter’s labours, than he had found necessary for

making his discoveries.

Koelreuter’s most important and best-known work appeared in four

portions in 1761, 1763, 1764 and 1766 under the title, ‘Vorläufige

Nachricht von einigen das Geschlecht der Pflanzen betreffenden

Versuchen und Beobachtungen’; we shall endeavour to give a brief

summary of the more important results.

At different places in this work occur remarks and experiments on

arrangements for pollination, which up to that time had been seldom and

only hastily observed. As the pollen-tube had not yet been discovered,

and Koelreuter himself set out with the view, that a fluid finds its

way from the pollen-grains as they lie on the stigma to the ovules, it

was important first of all to determine the quantity of pollen which is

required for the complete fertilisation of an ovary; with this object

in view Koelreuter counted the pollen-grains formed in a particular

flower and compared them with the number required to be applied to

the stigma in order to effect complete fertilisation, and he found

that the latter number was much the smaller. For instance, he counted

four thousand eight hundred and sixty-three pollen-grains in a flower

of Hibiscus venetianus, while from fifty to sixty were sufficient to

produce more than thirty fertile seeds in the ovary; in Mirabilis

jalapa and Mirabilis longiflora he counted about three hundred grains

of pollen in the anthers, while from two to three or even one sufficed

for fertilisation in the one-ovuled ovary. He also tried, whether in

flowers with divided and even deeply-cleft styles fertilisation could

be effected in all compartments of the ovary through one of them only,

and he found that it could.

Koelreuter directed special attention to the arrangements, by which in

the natural course of things the pollen finds its way from the anthers

to the stigmas. He ascribed perhaps too much to the agency of the wind

and the oscillations of the flower from any cause; at the same time he

was the first who recognised the great importance of the insect-world

to pollination in flowers. ‘In flowers,’ he says, ‘in which pollination

is not produced by immediate contact in the ordinary way, insects are

as a rule the agents employed to effect it,’ (later observation has

shown that they are generally so employed even in cases where actual

contact is possible), ‘and consequently to bring about fertilisation

also; and it is probable that they render this important service if

not to the majority of plants at least to a very large part of them,

for all the flowers of which we are speaking have something in them

which is agreeable to insects, and it is not easy to find one such

flower, which has not a number of these creatures busy about it.’ He

noticed the dichogamous construction in Epilobium, but did not further

pursue his observation. He next examined the substance in flowers which

is agreeable to insects; he collected the nectar of many flowers in

considerable quantities, and found that it gave after evaporation of

the water a kind of sweet-tasted honey; this honey was unpalatable only

in Fritillaria imperialis, which is avoided by the humble-bees. He had

no doubt therefore, that bees procure their honey from the nectar of

flowers. How greatly he was interested in the relations between the

existence of certain plants and that of certain animals, relations

which were neglected till Darwin once more brought them into notice in

quite recent times, is shown by his investigation into the propagation

of the mistletoe (1763); he calls special attention to the fact, that

not only must the pollination of this plant be effected by insects, but

that the dissemination of its seeds is also exclusively the work of

birds, and that the existence of the plant therefore is dependent on

two different classes of living creatures.

Again we find observations on the movements of anthers and stigmas,

especially those caused by sensitiveness. Count Giambattista dal Covolo

had made the first observations in 1764 on the sensitiveness of the

anthers of thistle-like plants, and had endeavoured to explain their

mechanism. Koelreuter did not trouble himself about this point, so much

as about the connection between the irritability of the anthers and the

pollination of the stigmas. He took into consideration the sensitive

stamens of Opuntia, Berberis and Cistus, which Du Hamel had already

noticed, and discovered for himself the irritability of the lobes of

the stigma in Martynia proboscidea and Bignonia radicans. He noticed

that the lobes when touched close, but soon open again; but if pollen

is placed upon them, they remain closed till fertilisation is secured.

How perfectly insects effect the pollination of flowers he showed by a

comparative trial, in which he applied pollen himself to three hundred

and ten flowers with a brush, while he left the same number to the

operation of insects; the number of seeds formed in the latter case was

very little less than in the former, though the insects had to contend

with unfavourable weather.

He endeavoured also to ascertain the time required for the quantity

of ‘seminal matter’ sufficient for fertilisation to reach the ovary

after pollination; he also showed that pollination is followed by

fertilisation without the aid of light; later botanists incorrectly

maintained the contrary.

Koelreuter was less successful in his observations on the structure of

pollen-grains; here the microscope was indispensable and microscopes

were still very imperfect. Nevertheless he discovered that the

outer covering of the pollen-grain consists of two distinct coats,

and noticed the spines and sculpturings on the outer coat and its

elasticity; he observed the lids of the orifices in the exine of

Passiflora coerulea, and went so far as to see the inner coat in

moistened pollen-grains protrude in the form of conical projections,

which then however burst and allowed the contents to escape. But he

explained the pollen-tube, which he had thus seen, incorrectly by

supposing that these projections were intended to prevent the bursting

of moistened grains. It was not till sixty or seventy years later that

the matter was fully understood. Koelreuter supposed the contents of

the pollen-grain to be a ‘cellular tissue,’ and the true fertilising

substance to be the oil which adheres to the outside of the grains,

but is formed inside them and finds its way out through fine passages

in the coat. The bursting of the pollen-grains, which his opponent

Gleichen thought must take place to allow of the escape of his supposed

spermatozoids, seemed to him an unnatural proceeding.

Starting from the hypothesis, that the oil which clings to the

pollen-grains is the fertilising substance, Koelreuter propounds his

view of the process of fertilisation in accordance with the chemical

notions of the day; he first rejects the idea that the pollen-grains

themselves can reach the ovary, and then says: ‘Both the male seed and

the female moisture on the stigmas are of an oily nature, and therefore

when they come together enter into a most intimate union with one

another, and form a substance which, if fertilisation is to ensue,

must be absorbed by the stigma and conveyed through the style to the

so-called ovules or unfertilised germs.’ Koelreuter therefore made the

fertilisation really take place on the stigma, the mingled male and

female substance making its way into the ovary and there producing the

embryos in the seed. He had expressed this view before in 1761; he

repeated it in 1763 with the idea that the male and female moistures

unite together, as an acid and an alkali unite to form a neutral

salt; a new living organism is the result at once or later of this

union. In an investigation which he made in 1775 into the conditions

of pollination in Asclepiadeae he reverted to this idea, and insisted

that the act of fertilisation in the whole vegetable and animal kingdom

is a mingling of two fluids. But at a later period he seems to have

no longer considered the moisture of the stigma to be the female

principle, for experiment had taught him, that if a stigma exchanges

the moisture from another stigma for its own, and is then dusted with

its own pollen, no hybrid form is produced[106]. In any case Koelreuter

had a more correct idea of the nature of sexual fertilisation than

any of his predecessors, and it was one specially adapted to enable

his contemporaries to understand the results of experiments in

hybridisation, while the hybrids themselves supplied most convincing

arguments against the prevailing theory of evolution.

We have arrived at Koelreuter’s most important performance, the

production of hybrids. Here was a case for skilful experimentation,

not for microscopic observation, and here he obtained results in which

nothing afterwards required to be changed, but which when combined

with later observations have been used for the discovery of general

laws in hybridisation. The first hybrid which he obtained by placing

the pollen of Nicotiana paniculata on the stigmas of N. rustica,

produced pollen that was impotent; but he soon after obtained hybrids

from the two species which produced seeds capable of germination, and

in 1763 he described a considerable number of hybrids in the genera

Nicotiana, Kedmia, Dianthus, Matthiola, Hyoscyamus, and others. In the

last portion of his great work (1766) he speaks of eighteen attempts

to obtain hybrids with five native species of Verbascum, and submits

Linnaeus’ views on hybrid plants, which we have already described,

to a withering criticism. He shows at the same time from experiment,

that if the stigma of a plant receives its own pollen and pollen from

another plant at the same time, the former only is effectual, and that

this is one reason why hybrids which can be raised artificially are

not found in nature. We must not attempt to give a detailed account of

his famous hybrids of the third, fourth, and fifth degrees, nor of his

experiments on other points, such as the reverting of hybrids to the

original form by the repeated employment of its pollen; the value of

these experiments for theoretical purposes was afterwards fully brought

out by Nägeli.

It is impossible to rate too highly the general speculative value of

Koelreuter’s artificial hybridisation. The mingling of the characters

of the two parents was the best refutation of the theory of evolution,

and supplied at the same time profound views of the true nature of the

sexual union. It was shown by his numerous experiments that only nearly

allied plants and not always these are capable of sexual union, which

at once disposed of Linnaeus’ vague ideas in the judgment of every

capable person, though it was long before science candidly accepted

Koelreuter’s results. The plant-collectors of the Linnaean school as

well as the true systematists at the end of the 18th century had little

understanding for such labours as Koelreuter’s, and incorrect ideas on

hybrids and their power of maintaining themselves prevailed in spite

of them in botanical literature. Hybrids were necessarily inconvenient

to the believers in the constancy of species; they, disturbed the

compactness of their system and would not fit in with the notion that

every species represented an ‘idea.’

Koelreuter’s doctrines however did not always fall on unfruitful soil;

two botanists at least were found in Germany who adopted them, Joseph

Gärtner the author of the famous Carpology and father of Carl Friedrich

Gärtner who at a later time spent twenty-five years in experimenting

on fertilisation and hybridisation, and Konrad Sprengel who took up

Koelreuter’s discovery of the services rendered by insects and arrived

at some new and very remarkable results.

JOSEPH GÄRTNER made no fresh observations on sexuality himself, but

in the Introduction to his ‘De fructibus et seminibus plantarum’

(1788) he made use of Koelreuter’s results for the purpose of

distinguishing more clearly between different kinds of propagation,

and strengthening his own attack on the theory of evolution. The

germ-grains or spores of cryptogamic plants were at that time often

regarded on insufficient grounds as true seeds; Gärtner distinguished

them from seeds, because they are formed without fertilisation and

yet are capable of germination, whereas ovules become seeds capable

of germination only under the influence of the pollen. He distinctly

denied the sexuality of the Cryptogams; it was not till fifty years

later that strict scientific proof was substituted in this department

of botany for vague conjecture, and it was more in the interest of

true science in Gärtner’s day to deny sexuality in the Cryptogams

altogether, than to take the stomata in Ferns with Gleichen, or the

indusium with Koelreuter, or the volva in Mushrooms for the male organs

of fertilisation. Gärtner rightly appealed to Koelreuter’s hybrids

against the defenders of the theory of evolution; and to those who saw

in the seed only another form of vegetative bud, he said, that the bud

can produce a new plant without fertilisation but that the seed cannot.

We have already given an account in the chapters on Systematic Botany

of the services rendered by Gärtner to the knowledge of the seed in

its immature and in its mature condition; as regards the process of

fertilisation he adopted in the main Koelreuter’s view, that it is

the result of the union of a male and female fluid, from which the

germ-corpuscle in the ovule is developed by a kind of crystallisation.

Konrad Sprengel also fully committed himself to this view, and was

thereby prevented from understanding the process of fertilisation in

Asclepiadeae.

In KONRAD SPRENGEL[107] we encounter once more an observer of genius,

like Camerarius and Koelreuter, who however surpassed them both in

boldness of conception and was therefore even less understood by his

contemporaries and successors, than they had been by theirs. The

conclusions, to which his investigations led him, were so surprising,

they suited so little with the dry systematism of the Linnaean school

and with later views on the nature of plants, that they had become

quite forgotten when Darwin brought them again before the world and

showed their important bearing on the theory of descent. As Camerarius

first proved that plants possess sexuality, and Koelreuter showed that

plants of different species can unite sexually and produce fruitful

hybrids, so now Sprengel showed that a certain form of hybridisation

is common in the vegetable kingdom, namely the crossing of different

flowers or different individuals of the same species. In his work,

‘Das neu entdeckte Geheimniss der Natur in Bau und Befruchtung der

Blumen,’ Berlin, 1793, he says at page 43: ‘Since very many flowers

are dioecious, and probably at least as many hermaphrodite flowers

are dichogamous, nature appears not to have intended that any flower

should be fertilised by its own pollen.’ This was however only one of

his surprising conclusions; still more important perhaps was the view,

that the construction and all the peculiar characters of a flower can

only be understood from their relation to the insects that visit them

and effect their pollination; here was the first attempt to explain the

origin of organic forms from definite relations to their environment.

Since Darwin breathed new life into these ideas by the theory of

selection, Sprengel has been recognised as one of its chief supports.

It is highly interesting to read, how this speculative mind by the

study of structural relations in flowers, which were apparently trivial

and open to the eyes of all men, first arrived at ideas which in the

course of a few years were to lead to such far-reaching results. He

says: ‘In the summer of 1787 I was attentively examining the flowers

of Geranium sylvaticum, and observed that the lower part of the petals

was provided with slender rough hairs on the inside and on both edges.

Convinced that the wise framer of nature has not produced a single hair

without a definite purpose, I considered what end these hairs might be

intended to serve. And it soon occurred to me, that on the supposition

that the five drops of juice which are secreted by the same number of

glands are intended for the food of certain insects, it is not unlikely

that there is some provision for protecting this juice from being

spoiled by rain, and that the hairs might have been placed where they

are for this purpose. Since the flower is upright, and tolerably large,

drops of rain must fall into it when it rains. But no drop of rain can

reach one of the drops of juice and mix with it, because it is stopped

by the hairs, which are over the juice-drops, just as a drop of sweat

falling down a man’s brow is stopped by the eye-brow and eye-lash, and

hindered from running into the eye. An insect is not hindered by these

hairs from getting at the drops of juice. I examined other flowers

and found that several of them had something in their structure,

which seemed exactly to serve this end. The longer I continued this

investigation, the more I saw that flowers which contain this kind of

juice are so contrived, that insects can easily reach it, but that

the rain cannot spoil it; but I gathered from this that it is for the

sake of the insects that these flowers secrete the juice, and that it

is secured against rain that they may be able to enjoy it pure and

unspoilt.’ Next year, following out an idea suggested by the flowers of

Myosotis palustris, he found that the position of spots of different

colours on the corolla have some connection with the place where the

juice is secreted, and with the same ready reasoning as before he came

to the further conclusion: ‘If the corolla has a particular colour in

particular spots on account of the insects, it is for the sake of the

insects that it is so coloured; and if the particular colour of a part

of the corolla serves to show an insect which has lighted on the flower

the direct path to the juice, the general colour of the corolla has

been given to it, in order that insects flying about in search of their

food may see the flowers that are provided with such a corolla from a

long distance, and know them for receptacles of juice.’

He afterwards discovered that the stigmas of a species of Iris were

absolutely unable to be fertilised in any other way than by insects,

and further observation convinced him more and more, ‘that many,

perhaps all flowers, which have this juice, are fertilised by the

insects which feed on it, and that consequently this feeding of insects

is in respect of themselves an end, but in respect of the flowers only

a means, but at the same time the sole means to a definite end, namely,

their fertilisation; and that the whole structure of such flowers can

be explained, if in examining them we keep in sight the following

points, first, that flowers were intended to be fertilised by the

agency of one or another kind of insects, or by several; secondly, that

insects in seeking the juice of flowers, and for this purpose either

alighting upon them in an indefinite manner, or in a definite manner

either creeping into them or moving round upon them, were intended to

sweep off the dust from the anthers with their usually hairy bodies or

with some part of them, and convey it to the stigma, which is provided

either with short and delicate hairs, or with a viscid moisture, that

it may retain the pollen.’

In the summer of 1790 he detected dichogamy, which he first observed

in Epilobium angustifolium. He found, ‘that these hermaphrodite

flowers are fertilised by the humble-bee and by other bees, and that

the individual flower is not fertilised by its own pollen, but the

older flowers by the pollen which the insects convey to them from

the younger.’ Having observed the same thing in Nigella arvensis,

he afterwards found exactly the opposite arrangement in a species of

Euphorbia, in which the stigmas can receive the pollen by the aid of

insects only from older flowers.

He goes on to say that he grounds his theory of flowers on these

his six chief discoveries made in the course of five years; he then

gives his theory at length, first of all explaining the nature of

juice-secreting glands (nectaries), and organs for receiving or

covering the nectar, and the contrivances for enabling insects to find

their way readily to the juice. He calls attention to Koelreuter’s

excellent observations on the fertilisation of nectar-bearing flowers

by insects, and notices that no one has hitherto shown that the whole

structure of such flowers has this object in view, and can be fully

explained by it. He finds the chief proof of this important proposition

in dichogamy.

‘After the flower,’ he says, ‘has opened in dichogamous plants, the

filaments have or assume either all at once or one after another a

definite position, in which the anthers open and offer their pollen for

fertilisation. But at this time the stigma is at some distance from

the anthers and is still small and closed. Hence the pollen cannot be

conveyed to the stigma either by mechanical means or by insects, for

there is as yet properly no stigma. This condition of things continues

a certain time. When that time is elapsed, the anthers have no longer

any pollen, and changes take place in the filaments the result of which

is that the anthers no longer occupy their former position. Meanwhile

the pistil has so changed that the stigma is now exactly in the place

where the anthers were before, and as it now opens, or expands the

parts of which it is composed, it often fills about the same space as

the anthers filled before. Now the spot, which was at first occupied by

the ripe anthers and is now occupied by the ripe stigma, is so chosen

in each flower, that the insect for which the flower is intended cannot

reach the juice without touching with a portion of its body the anthers

in a young flower, and the stigma in an older; it thus brushes the

pollen from the anthers and conveys it to the stigma, and so the pollen

of the younger flower fertilises the older.’ It has been already said,

that Sprengel was also acquainted with the opposite form of dichogamy;

and the result of his explanation of both kinds is the conclusion,

that some flowers can only be fertilised by the aid of insects, and

he adds that some cases are to be found, in which the arrangements

in the flower are of such a nature as to involve the injury and even

the death of the insect that gives its services. Further on he tells

us, that all flowers, ‘which are without a proper corolla and have no

calyx of any importance in its place, are destitute of nectar, and

are not fertilised by insects but by some mechanical means, as by the

wind, which either blows the pollen from the anthers on to the stigmas,

or shakes the plant or the flower and makes the pollen fall from the

anthers on to the stigmas.’ He observes, that such flowers always

produce a light pollen and in large quantities, whereas the pollen

of nectar-bearing plants is heavy. Then he shows how his principles

explain all the physiological characters of flowers, position, size,

colour, smell, form, time of flowering and the like.

Sprengel set out with the idea, that the nectar and certain

arrangements in flowers are expressly intended for the service of

insects; but his investigations led him ultimately to the conclusion,

that insects themselves serve not only to effect the fertilisation of

plants generally, but also in all ordinary cases to bring about the

crossing of different flowers of the same plant or of different plants

of the same species. There remained a question, which from Sprengel’s

strictly teleological point of view especially required an answer,

what was the object of this crossing of flowers or individual plants?

Sprengel was content, as we have seen, with simply stating the fact,

and with saying, that nature apparently did not choose that any flower

should be fertilised by its own pollen. Who would make it a reproach

to the discoverer of such remarkable and widely-prevalent phenomena

in nature, that he did not answer this question and give the final

touches to the body of doctrine which he created, and which could

only be developed by many experiments and the labour of long years?

Neither his worldly circumstances nor the reception accorded to his

work with all its genius were such as to encourage him to undertake

the solution of this last and most difficult problem, even if he had

been inclined to do so. Botanists were just at that time and for some

time after preoccupied with views, which allowed such biological and

physiological facts in vegetable life to lie neglected, nor were

Sprengel’s results at all favourable to the doctrine of the constancy

of species; from that point of view the wonderful relations between the

organisation of flowers and that of insects must have seemed absurd and

repulsive. In such cases it is the character of less-gifted natures,

rather to deny the facts or to disregard them, than to sacrifice their

own favourite views to them; this is one explanation of the neglect

which Sprengel’s book met with everywhere. Then notwithstanding the

labours of a Camerarius and a Koelreuter there were many even at the

beginning of our own century who still doubted the sexuality of plants.

Even after Knight and William Herbert, with a right understanding of

the question left open by Sprengel, had obtained experimental results

which helped to answer it, the new doctrine did not make its way. The

earlier simple-minded but consistent teleology had been succeeded

by a rejection of all teleological explanations in the treatment of

physiological questions, and this spirit conduced to make Sprengel’s

results seem inconvenient in proportion as they appeared to admit only

of such explanation. With regard to phenomena of this kind botanists

before 1860 were in a position, in which they were without the means

of forming a judgment; they shrank from the teleological point of

view and from believing with Konrad Sprengel, that every, even the

least-obvious, arrangement in an organism was the direct work of a

Creator; but they had nothing better to put in the place of this idea,

and hence Sprengel’s discoveries not being understood were neglected

till Darwin recognised all their importance, and by opposing the theory

of descent and selection to the principle of design was in a position

not only to show that they had a scientific meaning, but also to employ

them as powerful supports of the theory of selection. Then, too, it

became possible rightly to appreciate the contributions of Knight,

Herbert, and K. F. Gärtner to the further completion of Sprengel’s

doctrine, for their discoveries also were for a while neglected. A

few years after the appearance of Sprengel’s book, Andrew Knight[108]

relying on the results of experiments made for the purpose of comparing

self-fertilisation and crossing in the genus Pisum, laid down the

principle, that no plant fertilises itself through an unlimited number

of generations; in 1837 Herbert summed up the results of his numerous

experiments in fertilisation in the statement, that he was inclined

to believe that he attained a better result, when he fertilised the

flowers from which he wished to obtain seeds with pollen from another

individual of the same variety or at least from another flower, than

when he fertilised it with its own pollen; K. F. Gärtner came to the

same conclusion after experiments in fertilising Passiflora, Lobelia,

and species of Fuchsia in 1844. In these observations lay the first

germ of the answer to the question left undecided by Sprengel, why

most flowers are so constructed that fertilisation can only be fully

effected by the crossing of different flowers or of different plants of

the same species; the artificial crossings of this kind, which Knight,

Herbert, and Gärtner compared with the self-fertilisation of single

flowers, showed that crossing procures a more complete and vigorous

impregnation than self-fertilisation. It was but a short step from this

fact to the idea, that the arrangements in the flower discovered by

Sprengel together with the aid of insects serve to secure the strongest

and most numerous progeny possible. Darwin was the first who fixed his

eye distinctly on this idea also, in order to employ it in his theory

of selection, and sought support for it in a number of experiments made

after 1857.

6. NEW OPPONENTS OF SEXUALITY AND THEIR REFUTATION BY EXPERIMENTS.

1785-1849.

Those who have read the writings of Camerarius and Koelreuter

carefully find it difficult to believe, that after their time doubts

were still entertained not about the manner in which the processes

of fertilisation are accomplished but about the actual existence

of difference of sex in plants. And yet such doubts were expressed

repeatedly during the succeeding sixty years in various quarters and

with the greatest confidence, and this not in consequence of increased

accuracy in experimental research or of contradictions that could

be proved in the views of the founders of the sexual theory, but

because a number of observers made unskilful experiments and obtained

contradictory results, or made inaccurate observations on the plants on

which they experimented, and generally had not the requisite experience

and circumspection. Such were Spallanzani and later Bernhardi, Giron

de Bouzareingue and Ramisch. Schelver, his pupil Henschel, and their

adherents erred still more grossly and from a different cause; they

thought themselves justified by preconceived opinions and conclusions

from the nature-philosophy in denying facts established by experiment.

The destructive effects of the nature-philosophy on the powers of

the understanding at the beginning of the 19th century was shown

in the case of many botanists, who were no longer able to estimate

the result of simple experiments, and to trace back the phenomena

of nature to the scheme of causes and effects. As Linnaeus once

imagined that he could prove sexuality in plants on philosophical

grounds and paid comparatively slight attention to their behaviour

as shown by experiment, so we have in Schelver a nature-philosopher

who conversely endeavoured to prove the impossibility of sexuality in

plants on philosophical grounds. As Linnaeus deduced sexuality from

the nature or idea of the plant, Schelver denied it from the same

nature or idea; as a matter of logic one was as much in the right as

the other, but the question could not be decided in this way but only

by experiment. However our nature-philosophers thought it advisable

to get some empirical support for their theories, and they found it

in SPALLANZANI[109]. He published his enquiries into fertilisation

in animals and plants under the title ‘Expériences pour servir à

l’histoire de la génération des animaux et des plantes,’ Geneva,

1786; his account of those relating to plants, with which only we

are concerned, betrays a very defective acquaintance with botanical

literature, for he reckons Cesalpino among those who had admitted

sexuality in plants. His experiments themselves testify to very slight

knowledge of the biological considerations by which the cultivation of

plants for experiment must be guided, and generally little botanical

acumen, as is often the case with amateurs who without sufficient

preparation suddenly turn their attention to questions of vegetable

physiology; his treatment of his topics is superficial, his criticism

of others is dogmatic and bitter without exciting confidence in the

author’s own skill and judgment. His experiments were often undertaken

in haste and with little consideration, and some of them were made on

plants the least suitable for such investigations, as for instance

on Genista, beans, peas, radishes, Basilicum, Delphinium. It is no

matter of surprise therefore that in the case of some plants, as

Mercurialis and Basilicum, he arrived at the conclusion that the pollen

is necessary to the production of fertile seeds, while he makes others,

as the gourd, the water-melon, hemp, and spinach produce such seeds

without fertilisation. His countryman Volta, a greater man, repeated

his experiments and impugned the results which he had obtained from

them.

Such was the character of the experiments to which Franz Joseph

Schelver, Professor of Medicine in Heidelberg appealed in his ‘Kritik

der Lehre von dem Geschlecht der Pflanzen,’ 1812. It is unnecessary

to give a detailed account of this strange production of a mind

misled, even though a considerable number of German botanists as late

as 1820 took its nonsense for profound wisdom. Schelver dismissed

the experiments of Camerarius in four lines, and while he treated

Koelreuter with contempt, he praised Spallanzani as the weightiest

author on the subject. The statements of Camerarius and Koelreuter

are true, he said, but they do not prove the fertilisation. He is

more concerned to decide the question from the nature of vegetative

life, and from this nature constructed by himself he concludes that

the organs of plants are of no use at all, that they cannot even tend

to be of use to one another and to propagate life together, because

this one end of their action can be a living one only where all the

parts are present at the same time, which of course disposes of the

fertilising effect of the pollen; accordingly he does not refer the

effect of a male plant on a neighbouring female plant, which results

in the formation of seeds, to pollination by the former, but it is the

proximity itself which has the fertilising effect. But these are very

insufficient specimens of his reasoning.

The writings of his pupil Henschel[110] are even worse than those

of his master, and the worst of these is his large work ‘Von der

Sexualität der Pflanzen’ of 1820. He thought himself obliged to prove

the doctrines of the nature-philosophy by countless experiments; but

the way in which these are devised, managed and described displays

the extreme of dulness and incapacity to form a sound judgment. The

doubt which must occasionally rise in the mind of the reader as to the

accuracy of his reports, and the remarks which have been made on this

point by Treviranus and Gärtner, are not needed to disgust him with the

scientific efforts of this writer.

It would be superfluous to give an account of the contents of

Henschel’s book, which is interesting from the pathological rather

than from the historical point of view. To what an extent better men

than Henschel even later than 1820 lost under the influence of the

nature-philosophy their capacity for judging such questions as we are

discussing, how even investigators of merit thought it worth while

to treat the productions of Schelver and Henschel with a certain

respect, is shown among other works, by a collection of letters, which

were published by Nees von Esenbeck as a second supplement to the

‘Regensberg Flora’ of 1821, and by the later remarks of Goethe on the

metamorphosis of plants, to be found in Cotta’s edition of his works

in forty volumes (vol. xxxvi. p. 134) under the title ‘Verstäubung,

Verdunstung, Vertropfung.’ But there were some who set themselves

distinctly against these pernicious ideas, such as Paula Schrank

(‘Flora,’ 1822, p. 49) and C. L. Treviranus, who published in 1822

a full refutation of Henschel in his ‘Lehre von dem Geschlecht der

Pflanzen in Bezug auf die neuesten Angriffe erwogen.’ A few stray

supporters of the dying nature-philosophy were still to be found at a

later time; among them Wilbrand, Professor in Giessen, who (‘Flora,’

1830, p. 585) adopted the very subtle distinction that there is in

plants something analogous to sexuality in animals, but no real

sexuality. We see in the whole literature of the nature-philosophy

an incapability of judging of experiments simply with the sound human

understanding; an imaginary something was constantly introduced into

the results of experiments which had not the remotest connection with

their conditions and results.

The doubts expressed by Bernhardi in 1811, by Girou in 1828-30, and by

Ramisch in 1837 were of a different kind: these men made experiments

and judged of them in a scientific manner; but they were insufficiently

acquainted with what had been done before them, and their experiments

were not devised with the requisite knowledge of the conditions of the

problem, or carried out with sufficient precautions. Camerarius and

Ray had noticed in the previous century the occasional occurrence of

male flowers on female plants of spinach, hemp and mercury; and yet

the observers above mentioned chose these plants for their experiments

without being on their guard against the possible appearance of these

exceptional circumstances, or of other means of pollination.

We see then that doubts were entertained till as late as after 1830

with regard either to sexuality in plants altogether, or to its general

prevalence in Phanerogams; the Cryptogams were not mentioned, for they

were assumed to be devoid of sex in spite of many valuable observations

of earlier times. The great majority of botanists however admitted the

sexual significance of the organs of the flower; most of them rested in

entire faith on Linnaeus’ authority, while some were able to appreciate

the experimental proofs of Camerarius, Bradley, Logan, Gleditsch and

Koelreuter. But all who took up the subject in earnest between 1820

and 1840 were naturally led to desire that the question should once

more be thoroughly examined. The Berlin Academy of science had offered

in 1819 at Link’s suggestion a prize for an essay on the question,

whether there is such a thing as hybrid fertilisation in the vegetable

kingdom, in the hope of stimulating botanists to new investigations

into the decisive points in the sexual theory. The only reply to

this offer, an essay by Wiegmann which was not sent in till 1828, did

not come up to the requirements of the Academy, and was rewarded with

only half the prize. The Dutch Academy at Haarlem was more successful

when induced by Reinwardt in 1830 to propose the question in a

somewhat altered form and in connection with practical horticulture.

This prize was contended for by KARL FRIEDRICH GÄRTNER[111], whose

essay delayed by circumstances till 1837 received the prize of honour

and an extraordinary reward. But the whole body of his results,

derived from the experimental researches of five-and-twenty years,

were not published till 1849 and then in a large volume, ‘Versuche

und Beobachtungen über die Bastardzeugung,’ Stuttgart, 1849, having

been preceded by an introductory work of equal extent, ‘Versuche und

Beobachtungen über die Befruchtungsorgane der vollkommeneren Gewächse

und über die natürliche und künstliche Befruchtung durch den eigenen

Pollen.’ The two works together are the most thorough and complete

account of experimental investigation into sexual relations in plants

which had yet been written. They are a brilliant termination of the

period of doubt with respect to sexuality in plants which succeeded

to the age of Koelreuter—a termination which coincides in time with

the lively discussion which was being maintained on the strength of

microscopical investigations by Schleiden and Schacht on the one

side and by Hofmeister on the other respecting the processes in the

formation of the embryo.

Gärtner’s writings derive their importance not so much from new and

surprising discoveries or brilliant ideas and unexpected combinations,

as from their very searching examination into all the circumstances and

relations which can come under consideration in the sexual propagation

of Phanerogams. His experiments in hybridisation, of which he kept

most exact accounts, exceeded the number of nine thousand; in these

and in normal cases of pollination he studied all the sources of error

which could in any way affect his experiments, and took into careful

consideration all the conditions of fertilisation connected with the

development of the plant itself and with its external circumstances; at

the same time he examined critically all that had been written on the

subject, and submitted every experiment reported by former observers to

the test of his own wide experience. The volume on self-fertilisation

is a complete account of the biology and physiology of flowers. The

phenomena connected with the unfolding and fertilisation of the flower

are described from the writer’s own observations, some of which are

quite new; it specially investigates the relations between the calyx,

the corolla, the secretion of nectar and the opening of the anthers,

also the temperature of flowers and the physiological processes in

the ovary, the style and the stigma; all that was then known of

irritability and the phenomena of movement in the flower and in the

organs of fructification was collected together and elucidated by fresh

observations, and thus a picture was drawn complete to the smallest

detail of the life of a flower, such as we do not yet possess of any

other organ. It would be idle to think of giving in a small compass

a clear idea of the wealth of these observations. But all this was

only preliminary to the main point, the proof that Camerarius was

right, that notwithstanding the objections of a hundred years the

co-operation of the pollen is indispensable to the formation of the

embryo in the growing seed, and that plants therefore have sexuality

exactly as animals have it. Gärtner did not content himself with simply

making new experiments in fertilisation; he refuted the objections of

Spallanzani, Schelver, Henschel, Girou and others in detail from fresh

experiments and from other sources of information, paying particular

regard to all the circumstances which could come under consideration

in each case; he exposed the inaccuracy of the observations of the

opponents of sexuality point by point, and finally called attention to

a number of remarkable phenomena observable in the ovary even before

fertilisation, and to the circumstances under which the pollen may find

its way to it in cases where ordinary pollination has been apparently

prevented. These observations once more confirmed the existence of

sexuality in plants, and in such a manner that it could never be

again disputed. When facts were observed in 1860, which led to the

presumption that under certain circumstances in certain individuals of

some species of plants the female organs might produce embryos capable

of development without the help of the male, there was no thought of

using these cases of parthenogenesis to disprove the existence of

sexuality as the general rule; men were concerned only to verify first

of all the occurrence of the phenomena, and then to see how they were

to be reasonably understood side by side with the existing sexuality,

as had to be done also in the corresponding cases in the animal kingdom.

Gärtner’s work on hybridisation had been preceded by other enquiries

into the same subject, those namely of Knight mentioned above at the

beginning of the century, and Herbert’s more ample investigations

published in his work on Amaryllideae in 1837. Gärtner did not neglect

to compare his observations at all points with the results of his

predecessors, especially those of Koelreuter, and he deduced from

the astonishing mass of material a number of general propositions

respecting the conditions under which the production of hybrids is

possible, the results of crossing, and the causes of failure. A

special interest attaches to his mixed and compound hybrids, to his

experiments on the various degrees of influence which foreign pollen

exercises on the behaviour of the female organ, and the connection of

this point with the formation of varieties. It is impossible to give

a more distinct account of Gärtner’s results without entering into

discussions which would exceed the limits of a historical survey. It is

the less necessary to do so, since Nägeli undertook in 1865 to give a

summary view of all the important results to be found in the wealth of

material supplied by Koelreuter, Herbert and Gärtner[112]. Gärtner’s

experiments in hybridisation were conducted at Calw in Würtemberg,

the place where Koelreuter had made his in 1762 and 1763. And thus

it was in two small cities of Würtemberg that the foundations of the

sexual theory were laid and the theory itself perfected, as far as

it could be by experiment only, by three of the most eminent among

observers. Camerarius in Tübingen, Koelreuter and K. F. Gärtner in Calw

contributed so largely to the empirical establishment of the theory,

that all that was done by others would seem of small importance, if

artificial pollination only were in question. But Koelreuter was

imperfectly acquainted with the methods by which pollination is

usually effected in nature; Sprengel was the first who saw into all

their more important relations, and the fact must not be concealed,

that Gärtner in regarding Konrad Sprengel’s observations as unworthy

of serious consideration, neglected the most fruitful source of new

and magnificent results. His careful study of the secreting of nectar

and of the sensitiveness of the organs of fertilisation, and his many

observations on other biological relations in flowers, would have

found their natural termination, if he had connected them at all

points with Sprengel’s general conclusions respecting the relation

of the structure of the flower to the insect world. This Gärtner

entirely failed to do, and hence in this case also it was reserved

for Darwin’s wonderful talent for combination to sum up the product

of the investigations of a hundred years, and to blend Koelreuter’s,

Knight’s, Herbert’s, and Gärtner’s results with Sprengel’s theory

of flowers into a living whole in such a manner, that now all the

physiological arrangements in the flower have become intelligible both

in their relations to fertilisation, and in their dependence on the

natural conditions under which pollination takes place without the aid

of man. Here, as in morphology and systematic botany, Darwin found

the premisses given and drew the conclusion from them; here too the

certainty of his theory rests on the results of the best observers, on

investigations which find in that theory their necessary logical and

historical consummation.

7. MICROSCOPIC INVESTIGATION INTO THE PROCESSES OF FERTILISATION IN

THE PHANEROGAMS; POLLEN-TUBE AND EGG-CELLS[113]. 1830-1850.

History of Botany (1530-1860) · 第 9 / 12 章