We owe our understanding of this adaptive change in the sea-anemone,

and, indeed, our knowledge of this whole case of Symbiosis, to the

beautiful observations of Eisig. Starting from the hypothesis that the

mutual relations could only be the outcome of natural selection, Eisig

pointed out that this partnership must offer some advantage not to one

partner only, but to both; otherwise it could not have arisen through

selection. The advantage to the sea-anemone is obvious enough; since of

itself it can only move very slowly, and is usually firmly fixed in one

place, it is easy to see that it would be useful to it to be carried

about on the floor of the sea by the hermit-crab, and to get its share

of the hermit-crab's food. But the service yielded to the hermit-crab

by the sea-anemone in return is not nearly so apparent. Eisig made

an observation in the Zoological Station at Naples which solved this

riddle. He saw an octopus attack the hermit-crab and attempt to draw

it out of its shell with the point of one of its eight arms. But before

this had succeeded there sprang from the body of the sea-anemone a

large number of thin worm-like threads which spread over the arm of

the robber, who immediately let go his hold of the crustacean and

troubled himself no further with it. These threads, called acontia,

are thickly beset with stinging-cells, which must at least cause a

violent smarting on the soft skin of the octopus. Thus we see that the

Actinia instinctively defends its partner from attacks, and does it so

effectively that we need not wonder how the instinct to provide itself

with Actiniæ could have arisen in the hermit-crab. But the acontia seem

to have been greatly strengthened in the course of the sea-anemone's

association with hermit-crabs, for they do not occur in all forms, and

they are most highly developed in those which live in Symbiosis with

crustaceans.

[Illustration: FIG. 34. Hermit-crab (_E_), within a Gasteropod shell,

on which a colony of _Podocoryne carnea_ has established itself.

From the common root-work (which is not clearly shown) there arise

numerous nutritive polyps with tentacles (_np_), among which are

smaller 'blastostyle' polyps with a circle of medusoid buds (_mk_),

spine-like personæ (_stp_), and on the margin of the mollusc shell a

row of defensive individuals (_wp_). _F_, antennæ. _Au_, eyes of the

hermit-crab; slightly enlarged.]

In this case the structural change, the transformation of the

mesenteric filaments that occur in all Actiniæ into projectile

acontia, is comparatively slight, but in another partnership between

hermit-crabs and polyps the latter have undergone a much more marked

adaptation. At Naples _Eupagurus prideauxii_ is one of the commonest

hermit-crabs. It lives at a depth of about a hundred feet, and is

often brought to the Zoological Station by the fishermen in large

quantities. Its borrowed mollusc shell often bears a little polyp,

_Podocoryne carnea_ (Fig. 34), which forms colonies of often several

hundred individuals, arising from a common root-work of stolons which

covers the shell. The polyp colony is composed of different kinds

of individuals or personæ, illustrating the principle of division

of labour: it includes (1) nutritive persons (_np_) which possess a

proboscis, mouth, and tentacles on their club-shaped bodies; (2) much

smaller blastostyles (_bl_), that is to say, polyps with degenerate

mouth and tentacles, which are wholly given over to the production

of buds (_mk_), which then develop into sexual animals, little

free-swimming medusoids; and (3) protective personæ in the form of hard

spines (_stp_), beneath the shelter of which the soft polyps withdraw

when the mollusc shell is rocked about on the sea-floor by the rolling

of the waves. In addition to these three different kinds of individuals

or personæ there are also (4) defensive polyps (_wp_) of long,

thread-like shape, thickly set with stinging-cells, but possessing

neither mouth nor tentacles. It might at first be thought that these

are for the defence of the colony, but this is not so; the fact is

that they rather serve for the direct defence of the hermit-crab.

This is indicated by the position they occupy in the colony; they are

not regularly distributed over the surface, but are ranged round the

edge, and, indeed, only on the edge which surrounds the opening of

the mollusc shell. Here these defensive polyps stand in close array,

sometimes spirally contracted, sometimes hanging loosely down over

the hermit-crab like a fringe. Their function, like the acontia of

Actiniæ, is to defend the crab when an enemy tries to follow it within

the shelter of its domicile. This can easily be demonstrated by drawing

out the hermit-crab from the Gasteropod shell, and, when the colony has

settled down again, seizing the shell with the forceps and drawing it

slowly through the water. The water-stream which then flows upon the

shell mimics the attack of an enemy, and immediately all the defensive

polyps, as at a given signal, strike from above downwards, and repeat

this three or four times; they are scaring off the supposed enemy.

In this species of polyp a special form of individual has developed

with a quite definite position in the colony, and furnished with a

special instinct or reflex mechanism which is directly useful only to

the crab, and has therefore, in a sense, arisen for its advantage. This

can quite well be explained through natural selection, for indirectly

these polyps are also of use to the colony, inasmuch as they protect

their valuable partner, and thus render it possible for the hydroid

colony to make the partnership of use to the hermit-crab as well as to

itself.

This mutual arrangement thus satisfies the requirement which, from

the selectionist point of view, must be made in regard to all that is

new--that it must be useful to its possessor.

If it be asked what service the hermit-crab renders to the polyp colony

in return, the answer is that, as in the symbiosis with sea-anemones,

the hermit-crab carries the polyps to their food, which is also its

own. Hermit-crabs eat all sorts of animal food, living or dead, which

they find on the sea-floor, and the remains of their meal fall to

the share of the polyps. Once, without special intention, I laid a

hermit-crab with its polyp colony in a flat vessel of sea-water beside

a bright green living sponge. After some time the majority of the

polyps had become bright green; they had filled themselves with the

green cells of the sponge.

I do not know how else we should picture to ourselves the origin

of symbiotic instincts in such lowly animals except through the

transmission and augmentation of variations in the instincts of the

two partners--variations which made their possessors more capable of

survival. Mollusc shells, ever since there were any, must have served

as a foundation and point of attachment for polyp colonies; as a

matter of fact, we find to-day on mollusc shells many kinds of polyp

colonies which show no special adaptation to a life of partnership

with hermit-crabs. From such indifferent associations a symbiotic

one must gradually have been evolved in some instances, through the

preservation and augmentation of every useful variation, both of

instincts and reflex actions, as well as of form and structure. I

shall not attempt to trace the course of this evolution in detail, but

it is obvious that the development of defensive polyps, and of their

instinct to defend the crustacean, can be interpreted neither as due

to any direct influence nor as due to the effect of use, but only to

the utility of this arrangement, the beginnings of which--polyps with

stinging-cells--were already present. Their augmentation and perfecting

must be referred entirely to natural selection. It is the same with

adaptations which do not refer directly to the crustacean partner,

but rather to the disposition of the polyps on the shell. The spinous

personæ which protect the softer polyps from being crushed by being

rolled about on the pebbles by the waves cannot possibly be regarded

as the direct result of this crushing. But it is obvious that some

such colonies must have had among their members some with a stronger

external skeleton, and therefore less easily crushed than the rest, and

this would lead to their more frequent survival.

No adaptation seems to have taken place in the hermit-crab in this

case, but that is probably only apparently the case; the probability

is that it would not tolerate the presence of the polyp-colony on the

shell unless its instinct compelled it thereto, just as its instinct

impels it to cover itself with sea-anemones, and fearlessly to grasp

the dangerous animal, which, however, only shows its partner its softer

side. Truly, such transformations of instinct are wonderful enough, but

that they should have come about through intelligence is here quite

inconceivable; there remains nothing but natural selection.

A case in which no apparent corporeal adaptations have occurred, but

which depends altogether on slight modifications of the instincts, is

afforded by the well-known relations between ants and aphides. These

two groups of insects live in a kind of symbiosis, although they are

by no means inseparably connected with each other. Wherever strong

colonies of aphides cover the young shoots of a plant, such as a

stinging-nettle, a rose, or an elder, we almost always find ants which

walk cautiously about among the plant-lice, often in great numbers,

stopping now and again to stroke them with their antennæ, and then

licking up the sweet juice from the intestine which they now give

forth. Darwin showed by experiment that the aphides retain this juice

if no ants are on the spot, and only give it off when ants are put

beside them. Herein lies the proof that we have again to do with a

case of modification of instincts. This juice is, of course, not the

secretion of special glands, as it was still believed to be in Darwin's

time, and it does not come from the so-called 'honey-tubes' situated on

the back of the abdomen of the aphides; it is simply their excrement,

which is liquid like their food, and the voiding of it has become

instinctively connected with the presence of the friendly ants.

That the aphides are not in any way afraid of the ants implies, in

itself, a modification of their instinct, for these poisonous insects,

prone to biting, are otherwise much dreaded in the insect world.

Moreover, the aphides, harmless as they seem, are not quite without

means of defence, although these are never used against the ants.

Other animals which approach them they bespatter with the sticky,

oily secretion prepared in the so-called 'honey-tubes' already noted,

squirting it especially into the eyes of an assailant, so that the

attack is abandoned.

Of course the aphides have no idea wherein the utility of their

friendship for the ants consists, but it is not difficult for us to

discover it, since the ants, by their mere presence in the aphid

colony, frighten and keep off their enemies. We see, then, that the

conditions for a process of natural selection are here afforded:

the instinct to be friendly to the ants is thoroughly useful, and

the instinct of the ants to seek out the aphides, and, instead of

devouring them, to 'milk' them, is also advantageous; it must be an

old acquisition, an instinct early developed, for in several species it

has gone so far that the aphides are carried into the ants' nest, and

are there (as one might say) kept and tended as domesticated animals.

A pretty case of symbiosis between two animals is reported by

Sluiter, and I mention it because it concerns a vertebrate animal,

and intelligence has something to do with it. In the neighbourhood

of Batavia there are frequently to be found on the coral reefs

large yellow sea-anemones, with very numerous and comparatively

long tentacles, and a little brightly-coloured fish, of the genus

_Trachichthys_, makes use of these forests, beset with stinging-cells,

to find security from its enemies. These appear to be numerous, for

in an aquarium, at any rate, the little fish very soon falls a victim

to one or other of them, unless he is supplied with the protective

sea-anemones. When this is the case it swims blithely about among the

tentacles, and the sea-anemone does not sting it; for there has been a

modification of instinct on its part as well as on that of the fish.

The advantage it gains from the fish is, that the latter brings large

morsels of food--in the aquarium, pieces of meat--into the anemone's

mouth. In doing so it tears away fibres for itself, and even if the

Actinia has swallowed pieces too quickly, the fish pulls them half out

of the gullet again, and only relinquishes them to be consumed by its

partner when it has satisfied its own appetite. In this case, again,

the modification of the instinct is the only adaptation which has been

brought about by the symbiosis, and its origin seems difficult to

understand. How can the fish have first formed the habit of putting

its prey into the mouth of the anemone instead of eating it directly?

Although in many cases it is difficult to guess at the beginnings of

a process of selection, because they are scarcely discoverable in

the subsequently accumulated variations, yet in this instance we may

perhaps picture them to ourselves in this way: The fish was in the

habit of letting fall pieces of food which could not be swallowed

whole, and of diving down upon them repeatedly, to tear off a fragment

each time. As the sea-floor in flat places is often covered with

sea-anemones, these pieces would often sink down upon one, which would

welcome it as a dainty, and set about swallowing it, slowly in its own

fashion. The fish must then have found by experience that it could tear

off little bits much more easily from a piece that was held firmly by

the anemone than from one that was lying loose upon the ground, and

this may have caused it to do intentionally what was at first done by

chance. But the sea-anemone, suffering no harm from the fish--indeed,

its association of ideas, if I may use the expression, must rather

have been little fishes and unexpected food--had no cause to shoot

its microscopic arrows at it, and did not do so even when the fish

concealed itself among the tentacles. This latter habit on the part of

the fish would be developed into an instinct through natural selection,

since the individuals that most frequently exhibited it would be the

best protected, and therefore, on an average, the most likely to

survive. Whether the benevolent attitude of the anemone towards the

fish is to be regarded as the expression of an instinct is open to

dispute, for it is quite conceivable that each individual sea-anemone

is disposed to gentleness by the behaviour of the fish, and so the

development of a special hereditary instinct was unnecessary, because

without it each anemone reacted in the manner most likely to secure its

own advantage[7].

[7] Since the above was written Plate has observed several similar

cases in the Red Sea. A little fish lives along with the anemone,

_Crambactis aurantiaca_, a foot in size, and not only conceals itself

among its tentacles, but remains among them when the anemone draws them

in. These fishes, therefore, must be immune against the stinging-cells

of the sea-anemone; and in the same way another species of fish

appears to be immune from the strong poison secreted by sea-urchins

of the genus _Diadema_ from the points of their spines, among which

the fishes live. This relation certainly seems more like a one-sided

adaptation on the part of the fishes than a true symbiosis, but in the

cases observed by Sluiter the return service of the fishes seems to

be regularly rendered. Here, as everywhere else in nature, there are

transition stages, and a one-sided protective relation may gradually,

under favourable circumstances, be transformed into a symbiosis.

The same may be true of the fish as far as laying its booty in the

mouth of the anemone is concerned; there may be no inherited instinct

in this; it may be an intelligent action, which is learnt anew in the

lifetime of each individual.

It might of course be objected to this interpretation that the

beginning of the process, namely, the assumption that chance fragments

from the food of the fish falling just on the anemone is very

improbable; but I once observed that flat rocks washed over by the

sea on the Mediterranean coast (not far from Ajaccio) were so thickly

covered with green anemones that at first I took the green growth for

some strange sea-grass new to me until I had pulled up a little tuft

of the supposed plants and identified them as the soft tentacles of

_Anthea cereus_. Anemones must be equally abundant in the tropical seas

of Java, and a sinking fragment must often alight on the mouth of one

of them.

Much attention and keen discussion have in the last few decades been

focussed on cases of symbiosis between unicellular Algæ and simple

animals. A good example is our green fresh-water polyp, _Hydra viridis_

(Fig. 35, _A_). Its beautiful colour is due to chlorophyll, and it was

long a matter of surprise that animals should produce chlorophyll,

which is a characteristic and fundamental important substance of

assimilating plants, until Geza Entz and M. Braun demonstrated that the

green did not belong to the animal at all, but to unicellular green

Algæ, so-called Zoochlorellæ, which are embedded in the endoderm cells

of the polyps in great numbers (Fig. 35, _zchl_). As these algoid

cells assimilate, and thus liberate oxygen, their presence is of

advantage to the polyp. That--as was at first believed--they also yield

nourishment to the polyp I consider very probable, notwithstanding

the apparently opposed results of the experiments of so acute an

observer as von Graff, for I have seen a large number of these animals

thrive for months, and multiply rapidly by budding in pure water which

contained no food of any kind. In favour of this view, too, are some

observations, to be cited presently, on unicellular animals, in regard

to whose nourishment by the zoochlorellæ living within them there can

be no doubt at all.

[Illustration: FIG. 35. _Hydra viridis_, the Green Fresh-water Polyp.

_A_, the entire animal, greatly enlarged. _M_, the mouth. _t_,

tentacles. _sp_, testis. _ov_, ovary, both in the ectoderm. _Ei_, a

ripe ovum, already green, in process of being extruded. After Leuckart

and Nitsche.

_B_, section of the body-wall, about the position of the ovary in _A_.

_Eiz_, the ovum lying in the ectoderm (_ect_), in which zoochlorellæ

(_zchl_), belonging to the endoderm (_ent_), have already migrated

through the supporting middle lamella (_st_). _eik_, nucleus of ovum.

After Hamann.]

The little algæ on their part find a peaceful and relatively secure

abode within the polyp, and they apparently do not occur outside of

it, at least they do not now migrate from outside into the animal,

but are carried over as a heritable possession of the polyps from

one generation to another, and in a very interesting manner, namely,

by means of the eggs, and by these alone. As Hamann has shown, the

zoochlorellæ migrate at the time when an egg is formed in the outer

layer of the body of the polyp (Fig. 35) from the inner layer outwards,

piercing through the supporting layer between them (st) and penetrating

into the egg (_B_, _Eiz_). They make their way only into the egg, not

into the sperm-cells, which in any case are too small to include them.

Thus they are absent from no young polyp of this species, and it is

easy to understand why earlier experimental attempts to rear colourless

polyps from eggs could never succeed even in the purest water.

[Illustration: FIG. 36. _A_, _Amœba viridis_. _k_, the nucleus.

_cv_, contractile vacuole. _zchl_, the zoochlorellæ. _B_, a single

zoochlorella under high power. After A. Gruber.]

Quite similar green algæ live in symbiosis with unicellular animals,

as, for instance, with an amœba (Fig. 36) and with an Infusorian of the

genus _Bursaria_. In the Zoological Institute in Freiburg there is a

living colony of a green amœba and a green _Bursaria_, both of which

came from America, sent to us some years ago by Professor Wilder, of

Chicago, inside a letter with dried _Sphagnum_, or bog-moss. The plants

came from stagnant water in the Connecticut valley in Massachusetts.

That in this case the zoochlorellæ are of use to the animals within

which they live, not only by giving off oxygen, but also by yielding

food-stuff, has been proved by A. Gruber, who bred the two green

species for seven years in pure water which contained no trace of any

kind of organic food for them. Nevertheless, they multiplied rapidly,

and still form a green scum on the walls of the glass in which they are

kept. They only die away when they are kept in the dark, where the algæ

are unable to assimilate; then one green cell after another wanes and

disappears, and, in consequence, their hosts also die from the double

cause of lack of oxygen and lack of food.

Even in this case the symbiotically united organisms have not remained

unaltered. The algæ at least differ from others of their kind in their

power of resistance to living animal protoplasm. They are not digested

by it, and we may infer from this that they possess some sort of

protective adaptation against the dissolving power of animal digestive

juices; they must, therefore, have undergone some variation, and

adapted themselves to the new situation. Probably their cell-membrane

has become impenetrable to the stuffs which would naturally digest

them, an adaptation which could not be referred to direct effect or to

use, but only to the accumulation of useful variations which cropped

up--in other words, to natural selection. That any adaptive variation

has taken place on the part of the host, whether polyp, amœba, or

Infusorian, cannot be made out. None of these have altered their

original mode of life; they do not depend on the nourishment afforded

by the algæ, but feed on other animals, if these come in their way,

and they live in water rich in oxygen like other species allied to

them, and therefore are not altogether dependent on the algæ in this

connexion; but they can no more help having their partners than the pig

can help having Trichinæ in its muscles.

Similar plant-cells, not green however, but yellow, called

zooxanthellæ, live in great numbers in the endoderm of various

sea-anemones and in the soft plasmic substance of many Radiolarians.

In both these cases we must look for the benefit they confer on their

host in the oxygen they give off, for, like the green zoochlorellæ,

they break up carbonic acid gas in the light, and give off oxygen;

they no longer occur, as far as is known, in a free state, but are

always associated with the host, and they must therefore have altered

in constitution, and have adapted themselves to the conditions of the

symbiosis.

Higher plants, too, sometimes have symbiotic relations with animals;

the most remarkable and best-known example is the relation between ants

and certain trees, in which the ants protect trees which afford them in

return both a dwelling-place and food. We owe our knowledge of these

cases to Thomas Belt and Fritz Müller, and more recently it has been

materially increased by Schimper's researches.

In the forests of South America there grow 'Imbauba,' or

candelabra-trees, species of the genus _Cecropia_, which well deserve

their name, for their bare branches stretch out like candelabra,

and bear little bunches of leaves only at their tips. These leaves

are menaced by the leaf-cutting ants of the genus _Œcodoma_, which

attack numerous species of plants in these regions, often in tens of

thousands, biting off the leaves, cutting them in pieces on the ground,

and carrying them on their backs piece by piece to their nests. There

they use them to make a kind of compost heap, on which fungi, to which

the ants are very partial, readily grow. The candelabra-tree protects

itself from these dangerous robbers, inasmuch as it has established an

association with another ant (_Azteca instabilis_), which finds a safe

dwelling-place in its hollow, chambered stem (Fig. 37, _A_), and feeds

on a brown sap which oozes from the inside. On the stem there are even

little pits regularly arranged in definite places (_E_), through which

the female of _Azteca_ can easily bore her way into the interior. There

she lays her eggs, and soon the whole interior of the trunk teems with

ants, which come trooping out whenever the tree is shaken.

[Illustration: FIG. 37. _A_, a piece of a twig of an Imbauba-tree

(_Cecropia adenopus_), with the leaves cut off. At the leaf-bases

are the hair-cushions (_P_). _E_, the opening for the associated ant

(_Azteca instabilis_). _B_, a piece of the hair-cushion with the

egg-shaped nutritive corpuscles (_nk_). After Schimper.]

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