V. ARGUMENTS FOR THE REALITY OF THE PROCESSES OF SELECTION.

(a) SEXUAL SELECTION.

Sexual selection goes hand in hand with natural selection. From the

very first I have regarded sexual selection as affording an extremely

important and interesting corroboration of natural selection, but,

singularly enough, it is precisely against this theory that an adverse

judgment has been pronounced in so many quarters, and it is only quite

recently, and probably in proportion as the wealth of facts in proof of

it penetrates into a wider circle, that we seem to be approaching a

more general recognition of this side of the problem of adaptation. Thus

Darwin's words in his preface to the second edition (1874) of his book,

"The Descent of Man and Sexual Selection", are being justified: "My

conviction as to the operation of natural selection remains unshaken,"

and further, "If naturalists were to become more familiar with the idea

of sexual selection, it would, I think, be accepted to a much greater

extent, and already it is fully and favourably accepted by many

competent judges." Darwin was able to speak thus because he was already

acquainted with an immense mass of facts, which, taken together,

yield overwhelming evidence of the validity of the principle of sexual

selection.

NATURAL SELECTION chooses out for reproduction the individuals that are

best equipped for the struggle for existence, and it does so at every

stage of development; it thus improves the species in all its stages and

forms. SEXUAL SELECTION operates only on individuals that are already

capable of reproduction, and does so only in relation to the attainment

of reproduction. It arises from the rivalry of one sex, usually the

male, for the possession of the other, usually the female. Its influence

can therefore only DIRECTLY affect one sex, in that it equips it

better for attaining possession of the other. But the effect may

extend indirectly to the female sex, and thus the whole species may be

modified, without, however, becoming any more capable of resistance

in the struggle for existence, for sexual selection only gives rise to

adaptations which are likely to give their possessor the victory over

rivals in the struggle for possession of the female, and which are

therefore peculiar to the wooing sex: the manifold "secondary sexual

characters." The diversity of these characters is so great that I cannot

here attempt to give anything approaching a complete treatment of them,

but I should like to give a sufficient number of examples to make the

principle itself, in its various modes of expression, quite clear.

One of the chief preliminary postulates of sexual selection is the

unequal number of individuals in the two sexes, for if every male

immediately finds his mate there can be no competition for the

possession of the female. Darwin has shown that, for the most part, the

inequality between the sexes is due simply to the fact that there are

more males than females, and therefore the males must take some pains

to secure a mate. But the inequality does not always depend on the

numerical preponderance of the males, it is often due to polygamy; for,

if one male claims several females, the number of females in proportion

to the rest of the males will be reduced. Since it is almost always

the males that are the wooers, we must expect to find the occurrence

of secondary sexual characters chiefly among them, and to find it

especially frequent in polygamous species. And this is actually the

case.

If we were to try to guess--without knowing the facts--what means the

male animals make use of to overcome their rivals in the struggle for

the possession of the female, we might name many kinds of means, but it

would be difficult to suggest any which is not actually employed in some

animal group or other. I begin with the mere difference in strength,

through which the male of many animals is so sharply distinguished from

the female, as, for instance, the lion, walrus, "sea-elephant," and

others. Among these the males fight violently for the possession of the

female, who falls to the victor in the combat. In this simple case no

one can doubt the operation of selection, and there is just as little

room for doubt as to the selection-value of the initial stages of the

variation. Differences in bodily strength are apparent even among human

beings, although in their case the struggle for the possession of the

female is no longer decided by bodily strength alone.

Combats between male animals are often violent and obstinate, and the

employment of the natural weapons of the species in this way has led

to perfecting of these, e.g. the tusks of the boar, the antlers of the

stag, and the enormous, antler-like jaws of the stag-beetle. Here again

it is impossible to doubt that variations in these organs presented

themselves, and that these were considerable enough to be decisive in

combat, and so to lead to the improvement of the weapon.

Among many animals, however, the females at first withdraw from the

males; they are coy, and have to be sought out, and sometimes held by

force. This tracking and grasping of the females by the males has given

rise to many different characters in the latter, as, for instance,

the larger eyes of the male bee, and especially of the males of the

Ephemerids (May-flies), some species of which show, in addition to the

usual compound eyes, large, so-called turban-eyes, so that the whole

head is covered with seeing surfaces. In these species the females are

very greatly in the minority (1-100), and it is easy to understand that

a keen competition for them must take place, and that, when the insects

of both sexes are floating freely in the air, an unusually wide range

of vision will carry with it a decided advantage. Here again the actual

adaptations are in accordance with the preliminary postulates of the

theory. We do not know the stages through which the eye has passed

to its present perfected state, but, since the number of simple eyes

(facets) has become very much greater in the male than in the female,

we may assume that their increase is due to a gradual duplication of

the determinants of the ommatidium in the germ-plasm, as I have already

indicated in regard to sense-organs in general. In this case, again,

the selection-value of the initial stages hardly admits of doubt; better

vision DIRECTLY secures reproduction.

In many cases THE ORGAN OF SMELL shows a similar improvement. Many lower

Crustaceans (Daphnidae) have better developed organs of smell in the

male sex. The difference is often slight and amounts only to one or two

olfactory filaments, but certain species show a difference of nearly

a hundred of these filaments (Leptodora). The same thing occurs among

insects.

We must briefly consider the clasping or grasping organs which have

developed in the males among many lower Crustaceans, but here natural

selection plays its part along with sexual selection, for the union

of the sexes is an indispensable condition for the maintenance of the

species, and as Darwin himself pointed out, in many cases the two forms

of selection merge into each other. This fact has always seemed to me to

be a proof of natural selection, for, in regard to sexual selection,

it is quite obvious that the victory of the best-equipped could have

brought about the improvement only of the organs concerned, the factors

in the struggle, such as the eye and the olfactory organ.

We come now to the EXCITANTS; that is, to the group of sexual characters

whose origin through processes of selection has been most frequently

called in question. We may cite the LOVE-CALLS produced by many male

insects, such as crickets and cicadas. These could only have arisen in

animal groups in which the female did not rapidly flee from the male,

but was inclined to accept his wooing from the first. Thus, notes like

the chirping of the male cricket serve to entice the females. At first

they were merely the signal which showed the presence of a male in the

neighbourhood, and the female was gradually enticed nearer and nearer

by the continued chirping. The male that could make himself heard to the

greatest distance would obtain the largest following, and would transmit

the beginnings, and, later, the improvement of his voice to the greatest

number of descendants. But sexual excitement in the female

became associated with the hearing of the love-call, and then the

sound-producing organ of the male began to improve, until it attained to

the emission of the long-drawn-out soft notes of the mole-cricket or

the maenad-like cry of the cicadas. I cannot here follow the process

of development in detail, but will call attention to the fact that the

original purpose of the voice, the announcing of the male's presence,

became subsidiary, and the exciting of the female became the chief goal

to be aimed at. The loudest singers awakened the strongest excitement,

and the improvement resulted as a matter of course. I conceive of the

origin of bird-song in a somewhat similar manner, first as a means of

enticing, then of exciting the female.

One more kind of secondary sexual character must here be mentioned: the

odour which emanates from so many animals at the breeding season. It is

possible that this odour also served at first merely to give notice

of the presence of individuals of the other sex, but it soon became an

excitant, and as the individuals which caused the greatest degree of

excitement were preferred, it reached as high a pitch of perfection as

was possible to it. I shall confine myself here to the comparatively

recently discovered fragrance of butterflies. Since Fritz Muller found

out that certain Brazilian butterflies gave off fragrance "like a

flower," we have become acquainted with many such cases, and we now know

that in all lands, not only many diurnal Lepidoptera but nocturnal ones

also give off a delicate odour, which is agreeable even to man.

The ethereal oil to which this fragrance is due is secreted by the

skin-cells, usually of the wing, as I showed soon after the discovery

of the SCENT-SCALES. This is the case in the males; the females have no

SPECIAL scent-scales recognisable as such by their form, but they must,

nevertheless, give off an extremely delicate fragrance, although our

imperfect organ of smell cannot perceive it, for the males become aware

of the presence of a female, even at night, from a long distance off,

and gather round her. We may therefore conclude, that both sexes have

long given forth a very delicate perfume, which announced their presence

to others of the same species, and that in many species (NOT IN ALL)

these small beginnings became, in the males, particularly strong

scent-scales of characteristic form (lute, brush, or lyre-shaped). At

first these scales were scattered over the surface of the wing, but

gradually they concentrated themselves, and formed broad, velvety bands,

or strong, prominent brushes, and they attained their highest pitch of

evolution when they became enclosed within pits or folds of the skin,

which could be opened to let the delicious fragrance stream forth

suddenly towards the female. Thus in this case also we see that

characters, the original use of which was to bring the sexes together,

and so to maintain the species, have been evolved in the males into

means for exciting the female. And we can hardly doubt, that the females

are most readily enticed to yield to the butterfly that sends out the

strongest fragrance,--that is to say, that excites them to the highest

degree. It is a pity that our organs of smell are not fine enough to

examine the fragrance of male Lepidoptera in general, and to compare it

with other perfumes which attract these insects. (See Poulton, "Essays

on Evolution", 1908, pages 316, 317.) As far as we can perceive them

they resemble the fragrance of flowers, but there are Lepidoptera

whose scent suggests musk. A smell of musk is also given off by several

plants: it is a sexual excitant in the musk-deer, the musk-sheep, and

the crocodile.

As far as we know, then, it is perfumes similar to those of flowers that

the male Lepidoptera give off in order to entice their mates, and this

is a further indication that animals, like plants, can to a large extent

meet the claims made upon them by life, and produce the adaptations

which are most purposive,--a further proof, too, of my proposition

that the useful variations, so to speak, are ALWAYS THERE. The flowers

developed the perfumes which entice their visitors, and the male

Lepidoptera developed the perfumes which entice and excite their mates.

There are many pretty little problems to be solved in this connection,

for there are insects, such as some flies, that are attracted by smells

which are unpleasant to us, like those from decaying flesh and carrion.

But there are also certain flowers, some orchids for instance, which

give forth no very agreeable odour, but one which is to us repulsive

and disgusting; and we should therefore expect that the males of such

insects would give off a smell unpleasant to us, but there is no case

known to me in which this has been demonstrated.

In cases such as we have discussed, it is obvious that there is no

possible explanation except through selection. This brings us to the

last kind of secondary sexual characters, and the one in regard to

which doubt has been most frequently expressed,--decorative colours

and decorative forms, the brilliant plumage of the male pheasant, the

humming-birds, and the bird of Paradise, as well as the bright colours

of many species of butterfly, from the beautiful blue of our little

Lycaenidae to the magnificent azure of the large Morphinae of Brazil. In

a great many cases, though not by any means in all, the male butterflies

are "more beautiful" than the females, and in the Tropics in particular

they shine and glow in the most superb colours. I really see no reason

why we should doubt the power of sexual selection, and I myself stand

wholly on Darwin's side. Even though we certainly cannot assume that

the females exercise a conscious choice of the "handsomest" mate, and

deliberate like the judges in a court of justice over the perfections

of their wooers, we have no reason to doubt that distinctive forms

(decorative feathers) and colours have a particularly exciting effect

upon the female, just as certain odours have among animals of so many

different groups, including the butterflies. The doubts which existed

for a considerable time, as a result of fallacious experiments, as to

whether the colours of flowers really had any influence in attracting

butterflies have now been set at rest through a series of more careful

investigations; we now know that the colours of flowers are there on

account of the butterflies, as Sprengel first showed, and that the

blossoms of Phanerogams are selected in relation to them, as Darwin

pointed out.

Certainly it is not possible to bring forward any convincing proof of

the origin of decorative colours through sexual selection, but there

are many weighty arguments in favour of it, and these form a body of

presumptive evidence so strong that it almost amounts to certainty.

In the first place, there is the analogy with other secondary sexual

characters. If the song of birds and the chirping of the cricket have

been evolved through sexual selection, if the penetrating odours of male

animals,--the crocodile, the musk-deer, the beaver, the carnivores, and,

finally, the flower-like fragrances of the butterflies have been evolved

to their present pitch in this way, why should decorative colours

have arisen in some other way? Why should the eye be less sensitive

to SPECIFICALLY MALE colours and other VISIBLE signs ENTICING TO THE

FEMALE, than the olfactory sense to specifically male odours, or the

sense of hearing to specifically male sounds? Moreover, the decorative

feathers of birds are almost always spread out and displayed before

the female during courtship. I have elsewhere ("The Evolution Theory",

London, 1904, I. page 219.) pointed out that decorative colouring and

sweet-scentedness may replace one another in Lepidoptera as well as

in flowers, for just as some modestly coloured flowers (mignonette and

violet) have often a strong perfume, while strikingly coloured ones are

sometimes quite devoid of fragrance, so we find that the most beautiful

and gaily-coloured of our native Lepidoptera, the species of Vanessa,

have no scent-scales, while these are often markedly developed in grey

nocturnal Lepidoptera. Both attractions may, however, be combined in

butterflies, just as in flowers. Of course, we cannot explain why both

means of attraction should exist in one genus, and only one of them in

another, since we do not know the minutest details of the conditions

of life of the genera concerned. But from the sporadic distribution of

scent-scales in Lepidoptera, and from their occurrence or absence in

nearly related species, we may conclude that fragrance is a relatively

MODERN acquirement, more recent than brilliant colouring.

One thing in particular that stamps decorative colouring as a product of

selection is ITS GRADUAL INTENSIFICATION by the addition of new spots,

which we can quite well observe, because in many cases the colours have

been first acquired by the males, and later transmitted to the females

by inheritance. The scent-scales are never thus transmitted, probably

for the same reason that the decorative colours of many birds are often

not transmitted to the females: because with these they would be exposed

to too great elimination by enemies. Wallace was the first to point out

that in species with concealed nests the beautiful feathers of the male

occurred in the female also, as in the parrots, for instance, but

this is not the case in species which brood on an exposed nest. In the

parrots one can often observe that the general brilliant colouring of

the male is found in the female, but that certain spots of colour are

absent, and these have probably been acquired comparatively recently by

the male and have not yet been transmitted to the female.

Isolation of the group of individuals which is in process of varying

is undoubtedly of great value in sexual selection, for even a solitary

conspicuous variation will become dominant much sooner in a small

isolated colony, than among a large number of members of a species.

Anyone who agrees with me in deriving variations from germinal selection

will regard that process as an essential aid towards explaining the

selection of distinctive courtship-characters, such as coloured spots,

decorative feathers, horny outgrowths in birds and reptiles, combs,

feather-tufts, and the like, since the beginnings of these would

be presented with relative frequency in the struggle between the

determinants within the germ-plasm. The process of transmission of

decorative feathers to the female results, as Darwin pointed out and

illustrated by interesting examples, in the COLOUR-TRANSFORMATION OF A

WHOLE SPECIES, and this process, as the phyletically older colouring

of young birds shows, must, in the course of thousands of years, have

repeated itself several times in a line of descent.

If we survey the wealth of phenomena presented to us by secondary sexual

characters, we can hardly fail to be convinced of the truth of the

principle of sexual selection. And certainly no one who has accepted

natural selection should reject sexual selection, for, not only do the

two processes rest upon the same basis, but they merge into one another,

so that it is often impossible to say how much of a particular character

depends on one and how much on the other form of selection.

(b) NATURAL SELECTION.

An actual proof of the theory of sexual selection is out of the

question, if only because we cannot tell when a variation attains to

selection-value. It is certain that a delicate sense of smell is of

value to the male moth in his search for the female, but whether the

possession of one additional olfactory hair, or of ten, or of twenty

additional hairs leads to the success of its possessor we are unable

to tell. And we are groping even more in the dark when we discuss the

excitement caused in the female by agreeable perfumes, or by striking

and beautiful colours. That these do make an impression is beyond doubt;

but we can only assume that slight intensifications of them give any

advantage, and we MUST assume this SINCE OTHERWISE SECONDARY SEXUAL

CHARACTERS REMAIN INEXPLICABLE.

The same thing is true in regard to natural selection. It is not

possible to bring forward any actual proof of the selection-value of

the initial stages, and the stages in the increase of variations, as has

been already shown. But the selection-value of a finished adaptation can

in many cases be statistically determined. Cesnola and Poulton have made

valuable experiments in this direction. The former attached forty-five

individuals of the green, and sixty-five of the brown variety of the

praying mantis (Mantis religiosa), by a silk thread to plants, and

watched them for seventeen days. The insects which were on a surface of

a colour similar to their own remained uneaten, while twenty-five green

insects on brown parts of plants had all disappeared in eleven days.

The experiments of Poulton and Sanders ("Report of the British

Association" (Bristol, 1898), London, 1899, pages 906-909.) were made

with 600 pupae of Vanessa urticae, the "tortoise-shell butterfly." The

pupae were artificially attached to nettles, tree-trunks, fences, walls,

and to the ground, some at Oxford, some at St Helens in the Isle of

Wight. In the course of a month 93 per cent of the pupae at Oxford were

killed, chiefly by small birds, while at St Helens 68 per cent perished.

The experiments showed very clearly that the colour and character of the

surface on which the pupa rests--and thus its own conspicuousness--are

of the greatest importance. At Oxford only the four pupae which were

fastened to nettles emerged; all the rest--on bark, stones and the

like--perished. At St Helens the elimination was as follows: on fences

where the pupae were conspicuous, 92 per cent; on bark, 66 per cent; on

walls, 54 per cent; and among nettles, 57 per cent. These interesting

experiments confirm our views as to protective coloration, and show

further, THAT THE RATIO OF ELIMINATION IN THE SPECIES IS A VERY HIGH

ONE, AND THAT THEREFORE SELECTION MUST BE VERY KEEN.

We may say that the process of selection follows as a logical necessity

from the fulfilment of the three preliminary postulates of the theory:

variability, heredity, and the struggle for existence, with its enormous

ratio of elimination in all species. To this we must add a fourth

factor, the INTENSIFICATION of variations which Darwin established as

a fact, and which we are now able to account for theoretically on

the basis of germinal selection. It may be objected that there is

considerable uncertainty about this LOGICAL proof, because of our

inability to demonstrate the selection-value of the initial stages and

the individual stages of increase. We have therefore to fall back on

PRESUMPTIVE EVIDENCE. This is to be found in THE INTERPRETATIVE VALUE OF

THE THEORY. Let us consider this point in greater detail.

In the first place, it is necessary to emphasise what is often

overlooked, namely, that the theory not only explains the

TRANSFORMATIONS of species, it also explains THEIR REMAINING THE SAME;

in addition to the principle of varying, it contains within itself that

of PERSISTING. It is part of the essence of selection, that it not

only causes a part to VARY till it has reached its highest pitch of

adaptation, but that it MAINTAINS IT AT THIS PITCH. THIS CONSERVING

INFLUENCE OF NATURAL SELECTION is of great importance, and was early

recognised by Darwin; it follows naturally from the principle of the

survival of the fittest.

We understand from this how it is that a species which has become

fully adapted to certain conditions of life ceases to vary, but remains

"constant," as long as the conditions of life FOR IT remain unchanged,

whether this be for thousands of years, or for whole geological epochs.

But the most convincing proof of the power of the principle of selection

lies in the innumerable multitude of phenomena which cannot be explained

in any other way. To this category belong all structures which are only

PASSIVELY of advantage to the organism, because none of these can have

arisen by the alleged LAMARCKIAN PRINCIPLE. These have been so often

discussed that we need do no more than indicate them here. Until quite

recently the sympathetic coloration of animals--for instance, the

whiteness of Arctic animals--was referred, at least in part, to

the DIRECT influence of external factors, but the facts can best be

explained by referring them to the processes of selection, for then it

is unnecessary to make the gratuitous assumption that many species are

sensitive to the stimulus of cold and that others are not. The great

majority of Arctic land-animals, mammals and birds, are white, and this

proves that they were all able to present the variation which was most

useful for them. The sable is brown, but it lives in trees, where

the brown colouring protects and conceals it more effectively. The

musk-sheep (Ovibos moschatus) is also brown, and contrasts sharply

with the ice and snow, but it is protected from beasts of prey by its

gregarious habit, and therefore it is of advantage to be visible from

as great a distance as possible. That so many species have been able to

give rise to white varieties does not depend on a special sensitiveness

of the skin to the influence of cold, but to the fact that Mammals and

Birds have a general tendency to vary towards white. Even with us, many

birds--starlings, blackbirds, swallows, etc.--occasionally produce white

individuals, but the white variety does not persist, because it readily

falls a victim to the carnivores. This is true of white fawns, foxes,

deer, etc. The whiteness, therefore, arises from internal causes, and

only persists when it is useful. A great many animals living in a

GREEN ENVIRONMENT have become clothed in green, especially insects,

caterpillars, and Mantidae, both persecuted and persecutors.

That it is not the direct effect of the environment which calls forth

the green colour is shown by the many kinds of caterpillar which rest on

leaves and feed on them, but are nevertheless brown. These feed by night

and betake themselves through the day to the trunk of the tree, and hide

in the furrows of the bark. We cannot, however, conclude from this that

they were UNABLE to vary towards green, for there are Arctic animals

which are white only in winter and brown in summer (Alpine hare, and

the ptarmigan of the Alps), and there are also green leaf-insects which

remain green only while they are young and difficult to see on the leaf,

but which become brown again in the last stage of larval life, when they

have outgrown the leaf. They then conceal themselves by day, sometimes

only among withered leaves on the ground, sometimes in the earth itself.

It is interesting that in one genus, Chaerocampa, one species is brown

in the last stage of larval life, another becomes brown earlier, and in

many species the last stage is not wholly brown, a part remaining green.

Whether this is a case of a double adaptation, or whether the green is

being gradually crowded out by the brown, the fact remains that the same

species, even the same individual, can exhibit both variations. The case

is the same with many of the leaf-like Orthoptera, as, for instance, the

praying mantis (Mantis religiosa) which we have already mentioned.

But the best proofs are furnished by those often-cited cases in which

the insect bears a deceptive resemblance to another object. We now know

many such cases, such as the numerous imitations of green or withered

leaves, which are brought about in the most diverse ways, sometimes by

mere variations in the form of the insect and in its colour, sometimes

by an elaborate marking, like that which occurs in the Indian

leaf-butterflies, Kallima inachis. In the single butterfly-genus Anaea,

in the woods of South America, there are about a hundred species which

are all gaily coloured on the upper surface, and on the reverse side

exhibit the most delicate imitation of the colouring and pattern of a

leaf, generally without any indication of the leaf-ribs, but extremely

deceptive nevertheless. Anyone who has seen only one such butterfly

may doubt whether many of the insignificant details of the marking can

really be of advantage to the insect. Such details are for instance the

apparent holes and splits in the apparently dry or half-rotten leaf,

which are usually due to the fact that the scales are absent on a

circular or oval patch so that the colourless wing-membrane lies bare,

and one can look through the spot as through a window. Whether the

bird which is seeking or pursuing the butterflies takes these holes for

dewdrops, or for the work of a devouring insect, does not affect

the question; the mirror-like spot undoubtedly increases the general

deceptiveness, for the same thing occurs in many leaf-butterflies,

though not in all, and in some cases it is replaced in quite a peculiar

manner. In one species of Anaea (A. divina), the resting butterfly looks

exactly like a leaf out of the outer edge of which a large semicircular

piece has been eaten, possibly by a caterpillar; but if we look more

closely it is obvious that there is no part of the wing absent, and that

the semicircular piece is of a clear, pale yellow colour, while the rest

of the wing is of a strongly contrasted dark brown.

But the deceptive resemblance may be caused in quite a different manner.

I have often speculated as to what advantage the brilliant white C

could give to the otherwise dusky-coloured "Comma butterfly" (Grapta C.

album). Poulton's recent observations ("Proc. Ent. Soc"., London, May 6,

1903.) have shown that this represents the imitation of a crack such as

is often seen in dry leaves, and is very conspicuous because the light

shines through it.

The utility obviously lies in presenting to the bird the very familiar

picture of a broken leaf with a clear shining slit, and we may conclude,

from the imitation of such small details, that the birds are very sharp

observers and that the smallest deviation from the usual arrests their

attention and incites them to closer investigation. It is obvious that

such detailed--we might almost say such subtle--deceptive resemblances

could only have come about in the course of long ages through the

acquirement from time to time of something new which heightened the

already existing resemblance.

In face of facts like these there can be no question of chance, and no

one has succeeded so far in finding any other explanation to replace

that by selection. For the rest, the apparent leaves are by no means

perfect copies of a leaf; many of them only represent the torn or

broken piece, or the half or two-thirds of a leaf, but then the leaves

themselves frequently do not present themselves to the eye as a whole,

but partially concealed among other leaves. Even those butterflies

which, like the species of Kallima and Anaea, represent the whole of

a leaf with stalk, ribs, apex, and the whole breadth, are not actual

copies which would satisfy a botanist; there is often much wanting.

In Kallima the lateral ribs of the leaf are never all included in the

markings; there are only two or three on the left side and at most four

or five on the right, and in many individuals these are rather obscure,

while in others they are comparatively distinct. This furnishes us with

fresh evidence in favour of their origin through processes of selection,

for a botanically perfect picture could not arise in this way; there

could only be a fixing of such details as heightened the deceptive

resemblance.

Our postulate of origin through selection also enables us to understand

why the leaf-imitation is on the lower surface of the wing in the

diurnal Lepidoptera, and on the upper surface in the nocturnal forms,

corresponding to the attitude of the wings in the resting position of

the two groups.

The strongest of all proofs of the theory, however, is afforded by

cases of true "mimicry," those adaptations discovered by Bates in 1861,

consisting in the imitation of one species by another, which becomes

more and more like its model. The model is always a species that enjoys

some special protection from enemies, whether because it is unpleasant

to taste, or because it is in some way dangerous.

It is chiefly among insects and especially among butterflies that we

find the greatest number of such cases. Several of these have been

minutely studied, and every detail has been investigated, so that it is

difficult to understand how there can still be disbelief in regard

to them. If the many and exact observations which have been carefully

collected and critically discussed, for instance by Poulton ("Essays

on Evolution", 1889-1907, Oxford, 1908, passim, e.g. page 269.) were

thoroughly studied, the arguments which are still frequently urged

against mimicry would be found untenable; we can hardly hope to find

more convincing proof of the actuality of the processes of selection

than these cases put into our hands. The preliminary postulates of

the theory of mimicry have been disputed, for instance, that diurnal

butterflies are persecuted and eaten by birds, but observations

specially directed towards this point in India, Africa, America and

Europe have placed it beyond all doubt. If it were necessary I could

myself furnish an account of my own observations on this point.

In the same way it has been established by experiment and observation

in the field that in all the great regions of distribution there

are butterflies which are rejected by birds and lizards, their

chief enemies, on account of their unpleasant smell or taste. These

butterflies are usually gaily and conspicuously coloured and thus--as

Wallace first interpreted it--are furnished with an easily recognisable

sign: a sign of unpalatableness or WARNING COLOURS. If they were not

thus recognisable easily and from a distance, they would frequently be

pecked at by birds, and then rejected because of their unpleasant taste;

but as it is, the insect-eaters recognise them at once as unpalatable

booty and ignore them. Such IMMUNE (The expression does not refer to all

the enemies of this butterfly; against ichneumon-flies, for instance,

their unpleasant smell usually gives no protection.) species, wherever

they occur, are imitated by other palatable species, which thus acquire

a certain degree of protection.

It is true that this explanation of the bright, conspicuous colours

is only a hypothesis, but its foundations,--unpalatableness, and the

liability of other butterflies to be eaten,--are certain, and its

consequences--the existence of mimetic palatable forms--confirm it in

the most convincing manner. Of the many cases now known I select

one, which is especially remarkable, and which has been thoroughly

investigated, Papilio dardanus (merope), a large, beautiful, diurnal

butterfly which ranges from Abyssinia throughout the whole of Africa to

the south coast of Cape Colony.

The males of this form are everywhere ALMOST the same in colour and in

form of wings, save for a few variations in the sparse black markings on

the pale yellow ground. But the females occur in several quite different

forms and colourings, and one of these only, the Abyssinian form, is

like the male, while the other three or four are MIMETIC, that is to

say, they copy a butterfly of quite a different family the Danaids,

which are among the IMMUNE forms. In each region the females have thus

copied two or three different immune species. There is much that is

interesting to be said in regard to these species, but it would be out

of keeping with the general tenor of this paper to give details of this

very complicated case of polymorphism in P. dardanus. Anyone who is

interested in the matter will find a full and exact statement of the

case in as far as we know it, in Poulton's "Essays on Evolution" (pages

373-375). (Professor Poulton has corrected some wrong descriptions which

I had unfortunately overlooked in the Plates of my book "Vortrage uber

Descendenztheorie", and which refer to Papilio dardanus (merope).

These mistakes are of no importance as far as and understanding of the

mimicry-theory is concerned, but I hope shortly to be able to correct

them in a later edition.) I need only add that three different mimetic

female forms have been reared from the eggs of a single female in South

Africa. The resemblance of these forms to their immune models goes so

far that even the details of the LOCAL forms of the models are copied by

the mimetic species.

It remains to be said that in Madagascar a butterfly, Papilio meriones,

occurs, of which both sexes are very similar in form and markings to

the non-mimetic male of P. dardanus, so that it probably represents the

ancestor of this latter species.

In face of such facts as these every attempt at another explanation must

fail. Similarly all the other details of the case fulfil the preliminary

postulates of selection, and leave no room for any other interpretation.

That the males do not take on the protective colouring is easily

explained, because they are in general more numerous, and the females

are more important for the preservation of the species, and must also

live longer in order to deposit their eggs. We find the same state of

things in many other species, and in one case (Elymnias undularis)

in which the male is also mimetically coloured, it copies quite a

differently coloured immune species from the model followed by the

female. This is quite intelligible when we consider that if there were

TOO MANY false immune types, the birds would soon discover that there

were palatable individuals among those with unpalatable warning colours.

Hence the imitation of different immune species by Papilio dardanus!

I regret that lack of space prevents my bringing forward more examples

of mimicry and discussing them fully. But from the case of Papilio

dardanus alone there is much to be learnt which is of the highest

importance for our understanding of transformations. It shows us chiefly

what I once called, somewhat strongly perhaps, THE OMNIPOTENCE OF

NATURAL SELECTION in answer to an opponent who had spoken of its

"inadequacy." We here see that one and the same species is capable of

producing four or five different patterns of colouring and marking;

thus the colouring and marking are not, as has often been supposed,

a necessary outcome of the specific nature of the species, but a

true adaptation, which cannot arise as a direct effect of climatic

conditions, but solely through what I may call the sorting out of the

variations produced by the species, according to their utility. That

caterpillars may be either green or brown is already something more than

could have been expected according to the old conception of species, but

that one and the same butterfly should be now pale yellow, with black;

now red with black and pure white; now deep black with large, pure white

spots; and again black with a large ochreous-yellow spot, and many small

white and yellow spots; that in one sub-species it may be tailed like

the ancestral form, and in another tailless like its Danaid model,--all

this shows a far-reaching capacity for variation and adaptation that

wide never have expected if we did not see the facts before us. How

it is possible that the primary colour-variations should thus be

intensified and combined remains a puzzle even now; we are reminded of

the modern three-colour printing,--perhaps similar combinations of the

primary colours take place in this case; in any case the direction of

these primary variations is determined by the artist whom we know as

natural selection, for there is no other conceivable way in which the

model could affect the butterfly that is becoming more and more like it.

The same climate surrounds all four forms of female; they are subject

to the same conditions of nutrition. Moreover, Papilio dardanus is by

no means the only species of butterfly which exhibits different kinds of

colour-pattern on its wings. Many species of the Asiatic genus Elymnias

have on the upper surface a very good imitation of an immune Euploeine

(Danainae), often with a steel-blue ground-colour, while the under

surface is well concealed when the butterfly is at rest,--thus there are

two kinds of protective coloration each with a different meaning! The

same thing may be observed in many non-mimetic butterflies, for

instance in all our species of Vanessa, in which the under side shows

a grey-brown or brownish-black protective coloration, but we do not yet

know with certainty what may be the biological significance of the gaily

coloured upper surface.

In general it may be said that mimetic butterflies are comparatively

rare species, but there are exceptions, for instance Limenitis archippus

in North America, of which the immune model (Danaida plexippus) also

occurs in enormous numbers.

In another mimicry-category the imitators are often more numerous than

the models, namely in the case of the imitation of DANGEROUS INSECTS by

harmless species. Bees and wasps are dreaded for their sting, and they

are copied by harmless flies of the genera Eristalis and Syrphus, and

these mimics often occur in swarms about flowering plants without damage

to themselves or to their models; they are feared and are therefore left

unmolested.

In regard also to the FAITHFULNESS OF THE COPY the facts are quite in

harmony with the theory, according to which the resemblance must have

arisen and increased BY DEGREES. We can recognise this in many

cases, for even now the mimetic species show very VARYING DEGREES OF

RESEMBLANCE to their immune model. If we compare, for instance, the

many different imitators of Danaida chrysippus we find that, with their

brownish-yellow ground-colour, and the position and size, and more or

less sharp limitation of their clear marginal spots, they have reached

very different degrees of nearness to their model. Or compare the female

of Elymnias undularis with its model Danaida genutia; there is a general

resemblance, but the marking of the Danaida is very roughly imitated in

Elymnias.

Another fact that bears out the theory of mimicry is, that even when the

resemblance in colour-pattern is very great, the WING-VENATION, which is

so constant, and so important in determining the systematic position

of butterflies, is never affected by the variation. The pursuers of the

butterfly have no time to trouble about entomological intricacies.

I must not pass over a discovery of Poulton's which is of great

theoretical importance--that mimetic butterflies may reach the same

effect by very different means. ("Journ. Linn. Soc. London (Zool.)",

Vol. XXVI. 1898, pages 598-602.) Thus the glass-like transparency of the

wing of a certain Ithomiine (Methona) and its Pierine mimic (Dismorphia

orise) depends on a diminution in the size of the scales; in the Danaine

genus Ituna it is due to the fewness of the scales, and in a third

imitator, a moth (Castnia linus var. heliconoides) the glass-like

appearance of the wing is due neither to diminution nor to absence of

scales, but to their absolute colourlessness and transparency, and to

the fact that they stand upright. In another moth mimic (Anthomyza) the

arrangement of the transparent scales is normal. Thus it is not some

unknown external influence that has brought about the transparency of

the wing in these five forms, as has sometimes been supposed. Nor is it

a hypothetical INTERNAL evolutionary tendency, for all three vary in a

different manner. The cause of this agreement can only lie in selection,

which preserves and intensifies in each species the favourable

variations that present themselves. The great faithfulness of the copy

is astonishing in these cases, for it is not THE WHOLE wing which is

transparent; certain markings are black in colour, and these contrast

sharply with the glass-like ground. It is obvious that the pursuers

of these butterflies must be very sharp-sighted, for otherwise the

agreement between the species could never have been pushed so far. The

less the enemies see and observe, the more defective must the imitation

be, and if they had been blind, no visible resemblance between the

species which required protection could ever have arisen.

A seemingly irreconcilable contradiction to the mimicry theory is

presented in the following cases, which were known to Bates, who,

however, never succeeded in bringing them into line with the principle

of mimicry.

In South America there are, as we have already said, many mimics of the

immune Ithomiinae (or as Bates called them Heliconidae). Among these

there occur not merely species which are edible, and thus require the

protection of a disguise, but others which are rejected on account of

their unpalatableness. How could the Ithomiine dress have developed in

their case, and of what use is it, since the species would in any case

be immune? In Eastern Brazil, for instance, there are four butterflies,

which bear a most confusing resemblance to one another in colour,

marking, and form of wing, and all four are unpalatable to birds. They

belong to four different genera and three sub-families, and we have to

inquire: Whence came this resemblance and what end does it serve? For

a long time no satisfactory answer could be found, but Fritz Muller

(In "Kosmos", 1879, page 100.), seventeen years after Bates, offered a

solution to the riddle, when he pointed out that young birds could not

have an instinctive knowledge of the unpalatableness of the Ithomiines,

but must learn by experience which species were edible and which

inedible. Thus each young bird must have tasted at least one individual

of each inedible species and discovered its unpalatability, before it

learnt to avoid, and thus to spare the species. But if the four species

resemble each other very closely the bird will regard them all as of

the same kind, and avoid them all. Thus there developed a process

of selection which resulted in the survival of the Ithomiine-like

individuals, and in so great an increase of resemblance between the four

species, that they are difficult to distinguish one from another even in

a collection. The advantage for the four species, living side by side

as they do e.g. in Bahia, lies in the fact that only one individual

from the MIMICRY-RING ("inedible association") need be tasted by a young

bird, instead of at least four individuals, as would otherwise be the

case. As the number of young birds is great, this makes a considerable

difference in the ratio of elimination.

These interesting mimicry-rings (trusts), which have much significance

for the theory, have been the subject of numerous and careful

investigations, and at least their essential features are now fully

established. Muller took for granted, without making any investigations,

that young birds only learn by experience to distinguish between

different kinds of victims. But Lloyd Morgan's ("Habit and Instinct",

London, 1896.) experiments with young birds proved that this is really

the case, and at the same time furnished an additional argument against

the LAMARCKIAN PRINCIPLE.

In addition to the mimicry-rings first observed in South America, others

have been described from Tropical India by Moore, and by Poulton and

Dixey from Africa, and we may expect to learn many more interesting

facts in this connection. Here again the preliminary postulates of the

theory are satisfied. And how much more that would lead to the same

conclusion might be added!

As in the case of mimicry many species have come to resemble one another

through processes of selection, so we know whole classes of phenomena

in which plants and animals have become adapted to one another, and have

thus been modified to a considerable degree. I refer particularly to the

relation between flowers and insects; but as there is an article on "The

Biology of Flowers" in this volume, I need not discuss the subject, but

will confine myself to pointing out the significance of these remarkable

cases for the theory of selection. Darwin has shown that the originally

inconspicuous blossoms of the phanerogams were transformed into flowers

through the visits of insects, and that, conversely, several large

orders of insects have been gradually modified by their association

with flowers, especially as regards the parts of their body actively

concerned. Bees and butterflies in particular have become what they

are through their relation to flowers. In this case again all that is

apparently contradictory to the theory can, on closer investigation, be

beautifully interpreted in corroboration of it. Selection can give rise

only to what is of use to the organism actually concerned, never to what

is of use to some other organism, and we must therefore expect to find

that in flowers only characters of use to THEMSELVES have arisen, never

characters which are of use to insects only, and conversely that in the

insects characters useful to them and not merely to the plants would

have originated. For a long time it seemed as if an exception to this

rule existed in the case of the fertilisation of the yucca blossoms by

a little moth, Pronuba yuccasella. This little moth has a sickle-shaped

appendage to its mouth-parts which occurs in no other Lepidopteron,

and which is used for pushing the yellow pollen into the opening of

the pistil, thus fertilising the flower. Thus it appears as if a new

structure, which is useful only to the plant, has arisen in the insect.

But the difficulty is solved as soon as we learn that the moth lays

its eggs in the fruit-buds of the Yucca, and that the larvae, when they

emerge, feed on the developing seeds. In effecting the fertilisation

of the flower the moth is at the same time making provision for its own

offspring, since it is only after fertilisation that the seeds begin to

develop. There is thus nothing to prevent our referring this structural

adaptation in Pronuba yuccasella to processes of selection, which

have gradually transformed the maxillary palps of the female into the

sickle-shaped instrument for collecting the pollen, and which have at

the same time developed in the insect the instinct to press the pollen

into the pistil.

In this domain, then, the theory of selection finds nothing but

corroboration, and it would be impossible to substitute for it any

other explanation, which, now that the facts are so well known, could

be regarded as a serious rival to it. That selection is a factor, and

a very powerful factor in the evolution of organisms, can no longer be

doubted. Even although we cannot bring forward formal proofs of it IN

DETAIL, cannot calculate definitely the size of the variations which

present themselves, and their selection-value, cannot, in short,

reduce the whole process to a mathematical formula, yet we must assume

selection, because it is the only possible explanation applicable to

whole classes of phenomena, and because, on the other hand, it is made

up of factors which we know can be proved actually to exist, and

which, IF they exist, must of logical necessity cooperate in the manner

required by the theory. WE MUST ACCEPT IT BECAUSE THE PHENOMENA OF

EVOLUTION AND ADAPTATION MUST HAVE A NATURAL BASIS, AND BECAUSE IT IS

THE ONLY POSSIBLE EXPLANATION OF THEM. (This has been discussed in many

of my earlier works. See for instance "The All-Sufficiency of Natural

Selection, a reply to Herbert Spencer", London, 1893.)

Many people are willing to admit that selection explains adaptations,

but they maintain that only a part of the phenomena are thus explained,

because everything does not depend upon adaptation. They regard

adaptation as, so to speak, a special effort on the part of Nature,

which she keeps in readiness to meet particularly difficult claims

of the external world on organisms. But if we look at the matter more

carefully we shall find that adaptations are by no means exceptional,

but that they are present everywhere in such enormous numbers, that it

would be difficult in regard to any structure whatever, to prove that

adaptation had NOT played a part in its evolution.

How often has the senseless objection been urged against selection that

it can create nothing, it can only reject. It is true that it cannot

create either the living substance or the variations of it; both must be

given. But in rejecting one thing it preserves another, intensifies

it, combines it, and in this way CREATES what is new. EVERYTHING in

organisms depends on adaptation; that is to say, everything must be

admitted through the narrow door of selection, otherwise it can take

no part in the building up of the whole. But, it is asked, what of the

direct effect of external conditions, temperature, nutrition, climate

and the like? Undoubtedly these can give rise to variations, but they

too must pass through the door of selection, and if they cannot do this

they are rejected, eliminated from the constitution of the species.

It may, perhaps, be objected that such external influences are often of

a compelling power, and that every animal MUST submit to them, and that

thus selection has no choice and can neither select nor reject. There

may be such cases; let us assume for instance that the effect of the

cold of the Arctic regions was to make all the mammals become black; the

result would be that they would all be eliminated by selection, and

that no mammals would be able to live there at all. But in most cases a

certain percentage of animals resists these strong influences, and

thus selection secures a foothold on which to work, eliminating the

unfavourable variation, and establishing a useful colouring, consistent

with what is required for the maintenance of the species.

Everything depends upon adaptation! We have spoken much of adaptation

in colouring, in connection with the examples brought into prominence by

Darwin, because these are conspicuous, easily verified, and at the same

time convincing for the theory of selection. But is it only desert and

polar animals whose colouring is determined through adaptation? Or the

leaf-butterflies, and the mimetic species, or the terrifying markings,

and "warning-colours" and a thousand other kinds of sympathetic

colouring? It is, indeed, never the colouring alone which makes up

the adaptation; the structure of the animal plays a part, often a very

essential part, in the protective disguise, and thus MANY variations may

cooperate towards ONE common end. And it is to be noted that it is by

no means only external parts that are changed; internal parts are ALWAYS

modified at the same time--for instance, the delicate elements of the

nervous system on which depend the INSTINCT of the insect to hold its

wings, when at rest, in a perfectly definite position, which, in the

leaf-butterfly, has the effect of bringing the two pieces on which

the marking occurs on the anterior and posterior wing into the same

direction, and thus displaying as a whole the fine curve of the midrib

on the seeming leaf. But the wing-holding instinct is not regulated in

the same way in all leaf-butterflies; even our indigenous species

of Vanessa, with their protective ground-colouring, have quite a

distinctive way of holding their wings so that the greater part of the

anterior wing is covered by the posterior when the butterfly is at rest.

But the protective colouring appears on the posterior wing and on the

tip of the anterior, TO PRECISELY THE DISTANCE TO WHICH IT IS LEFT

UNCOVERED. This occurs, as Standfuss has shown, in different degree in

our two most nearly allied species, the uncovered portion being

smaller in V. urticae than in V. polychloros. In this case, as in most

leaf-butterflies, the holding of the wing was probably the primary

character; only after that was thoroughly established did the protective

marking develop. In any case, the instinctive manner of holding the

wings is associated with the protective colouring, and must remain as it

is if the latter is to be effective. How greatly instincts may change,

that is to say, may be adapted, is shown by the case of the Noctuid

"shark" moth, Xylina vetusta. This form bears a most deceptive

resemblance to a piece of rotten wood, and the appearance is greatly

increased by the modification of the innate impulse to flight common to

so many animals, which has here been transformed into an almost contrary

instinct. This moth does not fly away from danger, but "feigns death,"

that is, it draws antennae, legs and wings close to the body, and

remains perfectly motionless. It may be touched, picked up, and thrown

down again, and still it does not move. This remarkable instinct must

surely have developed simultaneously with the wood-colouring; at all

events, both cooperating variations are now present, and prove that both

the external and the most minute internal structure have undergone a

process of adaptation.

The case is the same with all structural variations of animal parts,

which are not absolutely insignificant. When the insects acquired wings

they must also have acquired the mechanism with which to move them--the

musculature, and the nervous apparatus necessary for its automatic

regulation. All instincts depend upon compound reflex mechanisms and are

just as indispensable as the parts they have to set in motion, and all

may have arisen through processes of selection if the reasons which I

have elsewhere given for this view are correct. ("The Evolution Theory",

London, 1904, page 144.)

Thus there is no lack of adaptations within the organism, and

particularly in its most important and complicated parts, so that we may

say that there is no actively functional organ that has not undergone a

process of adaptation relative to its function and the requirements of

the organism. Not only is every gland structurally adapted, down to the

very minutest histological details, to its function, but the function

is equally minutely adapted to the needs of the body. Every cell in the

mucous lining of the intestine is exactly regulated in its relation to

the different nutritive substances, and behaves in quite a different way

towards the fats, and towards nitrogenous substances, or peptones.

I have elsewhere called attention to the many adaptations of the whale

to the surrounding medium, and have pointed out--what has long been

known, but is not universally admitted, even now--that in it a great

number of important organs have been transformed in adaptation to the

peculiar conditions of aquatic life, although the ancestors of the whale

must have lived, like other hair-covered mammals, on land. I cited a

number of these transformations--the fish-like form of the body, the

hairlessness of the skin, the transformation of the fore-limbs to fins,

the disappearance of the hind-limbs and the development of a tail fin,

the layer of blubber under the skin, which affords the protection

from cold necessary to a warm-blooded animal, the disappearance of the

ear-muscles and the auditory passages, the displacement of the external

nares to the forehead for the greater security of the breathing-hole

during the brief appearance at the surface, and certain remarkable

changes in the respiratory and circulatory organs which enable the

animal to remain for a long time under water. I might have added many

more, for the list of adaptations in the whale to aquatic life is by no

means exhausted; they are found in the histological structure and in the

minutest combinations in the nervous system. For it is obvious that a

tail-fin must be used in quite a different way from a tail, which serves

as a fly-brush in hoofed animals, or as an aid to springing in the

kangaroo or as a climbing organ; it will require quite different

reflex-mechanisms and nerve-combinations in the motor centres.

I used this example in order to show how unnecessary it is to assume a

special internal evolutionary power for the phylogenesis of species, for

this whole order of whales is, so to speak, MADE UP OF ADAPTATIONS; it

deviates in many essential respects from the usual mammalian type, and

all the deviations are adaptations to aquatic life. But if precisely the

most essential features of the organisation thus depend upon adaptation,

what is left for a phyletic force to do, since it is these essential

features of the structure it would have to determine? There are few

people now who believe in a phyletic evolutionary power, which is not

made up of the forces known to us--adaptation and heredity--but the

conviction that EVERY part of an organism depends upon adaptation has

not yet gained a firm footing. Nevertheless, I must continue to regard

this conception as the correct one, as I have long done.

I may be permitted one more example. The feather of a bird is a

marvellous structure, and no one will deny that as a whole it depends

upon adaptation. But what part of it DOES NOT depend upon adaptation?

The hollow quill, the shaft with its hard, thin, light cortex, and the

spongy substance within it, its square section compared with the round

section of the quill, the flat barbs, their short, hooked barbules

which, in the flight-feathers, hook into one another with just

sufficient firmness to resist the pressure of the air at each wing-beat,

the lightness and firmness of the whole apparatus, the elasticity of

the vane, and so on. And yet all this belongs to an organ which is only

passively functional, and therefore can have nothing to do with the

LAMARCKIAN PRINCIPLE. Nor can the feather have arisen through some

magical effect of temperature, moisture, electricity, or specific

nutrition, and thus selection is again our only anchor of safety.

But--it will be objected--the substance of which the feather consists,

this peculiar kind of horny substance, did not first arise through

selection in the course of the evolution of the birds, for it formed the

covering of the scales of their reptilian ancestors. It is quite true

that a similar substance covered the scales of the Reptiles, but why

should it not have arisen among them through selection? Or in what other

way could it have arisen, since scales are also passively useful parts?

It is true that if we are only to call adaptation what has been acquired

by the species we happen to be considering, there would remain a great

deal that could not be referred to selection; but we are postulating an

evolution which has stretched back through aeons, and in the course of

which innumerable adaptations took place, which had not merely ephemeral

persistence in a genus, a family or a class, but which was continued

into whole Phyla of animals, with continual fresh adaptations to

the special conditions of each species, family, or class, yet with

persistence of the fundamental elements. Thus the feather, once

acquired, persisted in all birds, and the vertebral column, once gained

by adaptation in the lowest forms, has persisted in all the Vertebrates,

from Amphioxus upwards, although with constant readaptation to the

conditions of each particular group. Thus everything we can see in

animals is adaptation, whether of to-day, or of yesterday, or of ages

long gone by; every kind of cell, whether glandular, muscular, nervous,

epidermic, or skeletal, is adapted to absolutely definite and specific

functions, and every organ which is composed of these different kinds

of cells contains them in the proper proportions, and in the particular

arrangement which best serves the function of the organ; it is thus

adapted to its function.

All parts of the organism are tuned to one another, that is, THEY ARE

ADAPTED TO ONE ANOTHER, and in the same way THE ORGANISM AS A WHOLE IS

ADAPTED TO THE CONDITIONS OF ITS LIFE, AND IT IS SO AT EVERY STAGE OF

ITS EVOLUTION.

But all adaptations CAN be referred to selection; the only point that

remains doubtful is whether they all MUST be referred to it.

However that may be, whether the LAMARCKIAN PRINCIPLE is a factor that

has cooperated with selection in evolution, or whether it is altogether

fallacious, the fact remains, that selection is the cause of a great

part of the phyletic evolution of organisms on our earth. Those

who agree with me in rejecting the LAMARCKIAN PRINCIPLE will regard

selection as the only GUIDING factor in evolution, which creates what

is new out of the transmissible variations, by ordering and arranging

these, selecting them in relation to their number and size, as the

architect does his building-stones so that a particular style must

result. ("Variation under Domestication", 1875 II. pages 426, 427.) But

the building-stones themselves, the variations, have their basis in the

influences which cause variation in those vital units which are handed

on from one generation to another, whether, taken together they form the

WHOLE organism, as in Bacteria and other low forms of life, or only

a germ-substance, as in unicellular and multicellular organisms. (The

Author and Editor are indebted to Professor Poulton for kindly assisting

in the revision of the proof of this Essay.)

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