CHAPTER XXV

THE MOTH AND THE CANDLE

IN order to understand and interpret correctly the operation of

natural selection in producing new species and maintaining them, by

"the preservation of favoured races in the struggle for life" (to use

Darwin's words), we must take a wide and, at the same time, a minutely

accurate survey of the living world. We must seek out the evidences of

this operation and use the imagination in forming conceptions as to the

varied steps of the process and the results which are likely to ensue

from it at different stages and in different conditions. We cannot

interpret the existing structures and behaviour of living things by the

use of a simple formula, such as that set up by some writers who have

not properly studied Mr. Darwin's works, and declare that, according to

him, all structures and behaviours which we observe in living things

are perfect and the finished result of survival of the ideally fittest

variations.

Plants and animals are so complex (as no one has shown more clearly

than Darwin), not only in their structure but in the chemical and

physical action and interaction of their living parts, that in the

course of the ages during which the present species have been, step by

step, fashioned in the endless vicissitudes of a changing world, many

of them have retained structures or chemical constitutions which once

were useful but now are useless, or even positively injurious. Even

injurious structures or behaviours may be retained and inherited by a

species of plant or animal, if, on the whole, the other accompanying

modifications of structure are valuable--that is, of "life-saving"

value, so that, "on the whole," the race is favoured by selection in

the struggle for existence.

In species which have but lately acquired dominance or are brought

by their success into novel conditions, we may, and do, find old

structures and behaviours still persisting which are injurious, not

yet, as it were, "cleaned up" and got rid of as they would be in the

course of further long periods of selection. Such species become

established, and may even acquire a definite stability, because the

injurious structures or behaviours which they have retained are of

little or no account as compared with the other advantageous characters

which the species have developed. The term "disharmonies" is applied to

such injurious characters, consisting in a certain want of harmony (in

minor respects) between the structure of an organism and the conditions

in which, nevertheless, it thrives.

Such species, imperfect because of their "disharmonies," are an

illustration of the fact that Nature herself, in matters relating to

living things, is not averse to compromise. Nature sets the example

of toleration. Toleration may be defended on the ground that it is

the biological method. Nature, though stern and inexorable as to

essentials, yet accepts the faults and defects of some of her children

because of the virtues and excellences which accompany them. The most

highly endowed and successful forms on account of their dominance and

power of spreading into new conditions, are even more likely than

less highly developed kinds to retain concealed defects--disharmonies

which do not lead to the destruction of the species, but occasionally

cause strange embarrassment to it until they are, possibly in the long

process of ages, got rid of by the slow operation of selection and

survival of those individuals in which the injurious character varies

in the direction of diminution and ultimate disappearance.

In man (owing, apparently, to the rapid rate at which he has been

carried along towards dominance over the whole face of the globe by the

development of his intelligence) the bodily structure has failed to

keep pace with and to become perfected, "trimmed up," and completely

adapted to, the newly-acquired habits which his increasing intelligence

has forced on him. His "wisdom teeth" are "disharmonies." They are now

useless and dwindled, weak spots open to the attacks of disease--since

they are no longer needed for grinding coarse vegetable food, and are

consequently no longer kept (by the speedy death of those individuals

in whom they are small) at the full original size and efficiency seen

in the apes. His large intestine is a "disharmony" not yet got rid of

by natural selection, although no longer useful, but, on the contrary,

the seat of poisonous putrefaction and absorption of such poisons. His

tail--a few small vertebræ beneath the skin--is absolutely useless,

and occasionally the seat of dangerous injury or disease. Tails very

generally are liable to become useless in the descendants of animals

in which they were invaluable as "fly-brushes" (cattle, horses, etc.),

as prehensible organs (American monkeys), as concealing cloaks (South

American ant-eater), as aids to swimming or flying, or as ornamental

glories (the big-cats and others). The stumpy tail of the lynx, of

some monkeys, and some lizards and fishes tells of a history in which

the full-sized tail became a "disharmony"--a positive nuisance--and

has been reduced, even if not abolished, by natural selection of

short-tailed or tail-less varieties.

We have to be careful in asserting that any structure or behaviour in

an organism is certainly a "disharmony," for it is very difficult to be

quite sure as to the complete details of the life of a wild creature,

and so to be able to form a conclusion rather than to suggest a

possibility--as to the part played by an apparently injurious structure

or habit in the economy of that creature.

One of the most striking instances of a habit or behaviour which

persists and dominates the life of a wild animal to its own injury

and destruction is that shown by many moths and other insects, which

are attracted at night by a flame (a lamp or an open fire), and fly

into it even when burnt by it, again and again until they are killed.

A burnt child dreads the fire; but a burnt moth or a singed ichneumon

fly seems to enjoy being burnt, and becomes more and more excited by

its dashes into the flame until it finally drops with shrivelled wings

to the ground. My brother told me some years ago of the verandah of

his house in Java in which an open lamp was lit every night. Regularly

two sets of animals, driven and guided by the action of the light on

their nervous mechanism, arrived on the scene. Swarms of moths and

flies dashed in and out of the flame and fell, maimed by the heat, to

the ground. There a strange group had already assembled. Gigantic toads

and wall lizards crept from their holes in the masonry and woodwork,

and awaited the shower of injured insects, which they snapped up in

eager rivalry as the infatuated flame-seekers dropped, hour after

hour, to the floor. The instinct, the nervous mechanism, which

brought the greedy reptiles to the spot was a "harmony," a valuable

guide to nutrition; whilst the flame-seeker's impulse is assuredly a

"disharmony"--a defect in adjustment--leading to death.

It is interesting to inquire into the probable origin of this fatal

desire for close contact with a source of light, a desire so strong as

to be entirely unchecked by the deadly heat accompanying the light.

The May-flies or Ephemerids are delicate little creatures, having four

net-veined wings rarely more than three-quarters of an inch across,

with two or three long filaments hanging from the tail. Three hundred

species are known from all parts of the world, of which forty occur in

the British Islands. They live as wingless, six-legged larvæ in the

water for a couple of years, feeding voraciously. Then one summer's

evening they very rapidly escape from their larval skin and fly over

the water in countless swarms. But only for a few hours. The eggs of

the females are fertilized, and they all, both males and females,

drop dead or dying into the water, where they are greedily devoured

by fishes. The males are far more numerous than the females; in some

species as many as 6000 males to one female have been counted. They

are attracted to an extraordinary degree by lights (flames or electric

lamps) set up for nocturnal illumination by civilized man, and in some

districts they are collected by fishermen in this way for use as food

for fish, or were so in Holland in the eighteenth century according

to Swammerdam's statement in his "Biblia Naturæ." Why do they thus

seek artificial lights? There is some indication of an explanation

in the fact that two tropical species of May-flies are known which,

like the glow-worms and fire-flies, produce light in their bodies. The

May-flies, especially the males, have unusually large and prominent

eyes, as is the case with phosphorescent fishes and some other

light-producing animals, and it appears probable that in the now rare

instances of self-luminous May-flies, the sexes are attracted to one

another by the light they produce, as is the case in other luminous

insects. It seems probable that the ancestral May-flies, of which many

remarkable kinds have been discovered in the fossilized condition in

strata as far back in time as those of the coal-measures, were all

self-luminous, and acquired an overpowering instinct of seeking the

light given out by other individuals as a necessary step towards sexual

congress. In the course of ages other senses (probably smell and touch)

have been called in to bring the fluttering insects into association.

The power of producing light, being no longer needed, has disappeared

from all but two rare species. But the urgent erotic instinct, the

nervous mechanism, which drove the ancient May-flies towards the

dancing lights of other May-flies, has remained unaltered in all the

living species of the group. It is a "disharmony" which has not been of

sufficient destructive importance to be "cleared away" or suppressed

by natural selection. In pre-human times, nocturnal fires and lights

were too uncommon to cause much disaster to the May-flies. But now that

mankind sets up everywhere his nocturnal flames and electric lamps, the

previously unimportant useless survival of an overpowering impulse to

rush to nocturnal lights, reveals itself as a serious and death-dealing

"disharmony." We must suppose, on this theory, that the other insects,

such as moths and certain flies (by no means all insects), which also

madly fly into nocturnal lights to their own destruction, have had

luminous ancestors and a similar early history. This is a legitimate

supposition, since there are several very distinct kinds of insects

known at the present day which are luminous at night, although no

existing moths or butterflies are known to be so.

A fact bearing on the explanation of the insects' perilous rush to

flame is that birds when migrating are attracted by the great brilliant

lamps of lighthouses, and, flying towards them, strike against their

glass coverings, and are killed in considerable numbers. In that case,

it may be that the flying towards the sun has become instinctive, and

that the bright light of the lighthouse acts upon a certain number of

birds (perhaps the less well-adjusted individuals) so as to call forth

the same response in the direction of flight as that exercised by the

sun's globe. The truth or error of this suggestion should be tested by

an examination of the species of birds which kill themselves against

lighthouse lanterns, and a knowledge of the season and direction of

their migration.

As to luminous or phosphorescent (often called "luminescent") insects

and other animals, there are a great many curious and interesting facts

known. There are luminescent bacteria (common on old meat bones and

dead fish and in the sea generally), animalcules of various species,

jelly-fish, star-fish, worms, shell-fish, and crustaceans and true

fishes. Inhabitants of the great depths of the ocean of all kinds

are usually luminescent. The light is caused by the oxidation of a

peculiar fatty substance. Without free oxygen there is no luminescence,

and yet no heat is produced but merely light, as when a stick of

damp phosphorus glows. The luminescence of living things (often, but

undesirably, called phosphorescence) is a process differing greatly

from that called "phosphorescence" in minerals and crystals, such as

the emission of light by a lump of white loaf-sugar when crushed.

You may see that kind of phosphorescence by standing in front of a

looking-glass in a dark room and crushing a lump of loaf-sugar with

the teeth, keeping the lips raised. It seems that in many organisms

luminescence occurs without any consequent use or service to the

organism. But in higher forms the power of emitting light has been

seized upon by natural selection having become of value in attracting

the individuals of a species to one another, or in attracting prey, or

again in scaring enemies. The luminescent matter is concentrated in

certain definite organs, and the access to it of oxygen and even its

formation are controlled by the nervous system.

Among insects far better known than the rare luminescent May-flies,

are the glow-worms, a family of beetles of which several species are

known besides our own familiar one, called Lampyris noctiluca. The

fire-flies of Southern Europe--Luciola italica--are small beetles

allied to the glow-worm, but both sexes fly and both are luminous,

whilst in the common glow-worm the female is wingless, and the flying

male, who is guided to the female by her light (which she can vary in

intensity), gives but a feeble light. The swarms of Italian fire-flies

consist of as many as a hundred males to one female, and the males are

far more brilliant than the females. My fellow-student Moseley showed

some in oxygen gas at the Royal Society's soirée many years ago. The

gas greatly increased their brilliancy. Many valuable experiments

in search of an explanation of the brilliance of the male Luciolæ

and their excess in number could be carried out in North Italy. A

peculiar grub-like female glow-worm, three inches long, is found in

South America, which produces a red light at each end of the body and

numerous points of green light on each side of it. It is called the

"railway-beetle" in Paraguay.

Another family of beetles besides the Lampyrids, or glow-worms, is

celebrated for the brilliant luminescence of some of its species.

These are the click-beetles, or Elaterids (see Fig. 22, C). In South

America there are upwards of a hundred species of this group, showing

various degrees of luminosity. The "Cucujos" (Pyrophorus noctilucus) of

tropical America is one of the most abundant and largest. It is as much

as an inch and a half long, and has three "lamps," or luminous organs,

one on each side of the body and one below the tail. The light given

off is extremely beautiful, and the live insects are used by the women

for ornament and by the country-folk as lamps on nocturnal excursions.

Erroneously the term "fire-fly" is applied to these beetles; it should

be reserved for the little Italian Luciola, which swarms, as countless

thousands of dancing lights, in the nights of early summer over the

marsh lands of North Italy. I have seen it at the end of June as far

north as Bonn, on the Rhine. In Australia a small true "fly"[7]--that

is to say, a two-winged fly or Dipteron like our gnats, midges, and

house-flies--is known, the maggot of which is luminous. And in New

Zealand there is another of which both the maggot and the perfect

insect are luminous. The grub is called the New Zealand glow-worm.[8]

[7] Known to entomologists as Ceroplatus mastersi.

[8] Boletophila luminosa of entomologists.

There are grounds for believing that the luminescence of some of these

insects serves them not to attract one another, but to scare would-be

predatory foes, such as birds, bats, and reptiles. I have heard a story

(which I should like to have confirmed) that in some part of tropical

Asia a certain kind of bird collects half a dozen or so of a species

of glow-worm and places them at the entrance to its nest, so as to

scare nocturnal animals which might attack its eggs or its young. It

is a noteworthy fact that a point of light in the dark may act in two

opposite ways on animals which see it--either it attracts or it repels

them. The physiologist calls this positive and negative "photo-taxis"

(light-guidance). And we have the similarly positive and negative

influence of chemical taste and smell, called "chemo-taxis," and a

similarly contrasted positive and negative "hygrotaxis," or directive

influence of moisture upon the movements of animals and plants.

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