We are now enabled dimly to perceive how the curious anomaly of very simple and very complex methods of securing cross-fertilisation—both equally effective—may have been brought about. The simple modes may be the result of a comparatively direct modification from the more primitive types of flowers, which were occasionally, and, as it were, accidentally visited and fertilised by insects; while the more complex modes, existing for the most part in the highly irregular flowers, may result from those cases in which adaptation to insect-fertilisation, and partial or complete degradation to self-fertilisation or to wind-fertilisation, have again and again recurred, each time producing some additional complexity, arising from the working up of old rudiments for new purposes, till there have been reached the marvellous flower structures of the papilionaceous tribes, of the asclepiads, or of the orchids.
We thus see that the existing diversity of colour and of structure in flowers is probably the ultimate result of the ever-recurring struggle for existence, combined with the ever-changing relations between the vegetable and animal kingdoms during countless ages. The constant variability of every part and organ, with the enormous powers of increase possessed by plants, have enabled them to become again and again readjusted to each change of condition as it occurred, resulting in that endless variety, that marvellous complexity, and that exquisite colouring which excite our admiration in the realm of flowers, and constitute them the perennial charm and crowning glory of nature.
Flowers the Product of Insect Agency.
In his Origin of Species, Mr. Darwin first stated that flowers had been rendered conspicuous and beautiful in order to attract insects, adding: "Hence we may conclude that, if insects had not been developed on the earth, our plants would not have been decked with beautiful flowers, but would have produced only such poor flowers as we see on our fir, oak, nut, and ash trees, on grasses, docks, and nettles, which are all fertilised through the agency of the wind." The argument in favour of this view is now much stronger than when he wrote; for not only have we reason to believe that most of these wind-fertilised flowers are degraded forms of flowers which have once been insect fertilised, but we have abundant evidence that whenever insect agency becomes comparatively ineffective, the colours of the flowers become less bright, their size and beauty diminish, till they are reduced to such small, greenish, inconspicuous flowers as those of the rupture-wort (Herniaria glabra), the knotgrass (Polygonum aviculare), or the cleistogamic flowers of the violet. There is good reason to believe, therefore, not only that flowers have been developed in order to attract insects to aid in their fertilisation, but that, having been once produced, in however great profusion, if the insect races were all to become extinct, flowers (in the temperate zones at all events) would soon dwindle away, and that ultimately all floral beauty would vanish from the earth.
We cannot, therefore, deny the vast change which insects have produced upon the earth's surface, and which has been thus forcibly and beautifully delineated by Mr. Grant Allen: "While man has only tilled a few level plains, a few great river valleys, a few peninsular mountain slopes, leaving the vast mass of earth untouched by his hand, the insect has spread himself over every land in a thousand shapes, and has made the whole flowering creation subservient to his daily wants. His buttercup, his dandelion, and his meadow-sweet grow thick in every English field. His thyme clothes the hillside; his heather purples the bleak gray moorland. High up among the alpine heights his gentian spreads its lakes of blue; amid the snows of the Himalayas his rhododendrons gleam with crimson light. Even the wayside pond yields him the white crowfoot and the arrowhead, while the broad expanses of Brazilian streams are beautified by his gorgeous water-lilies. The insect has thus turned the whole surface of the earth into a boundless flower-garden, which supplies him from year to year with pollen or honey, and itself in turn gains perpetuation by the baits that it offers for his allurement."[160]
Concluding Remarks on Colour in Nature.
In the last four chapters I have endeavoured to give a general and systematic, though necessarily condensed view of the part which is played by colour in the organic world. We have seen in what infinitely varied ways the need of concealment has led to the modification of animal colours, whether among polar snows or sandy deserts, in tropical forests or in the abysses of the ocean. We next find these general adaptations giving way to more specialised types of coloration, by which each species has become more and more harmonised with its immediate surroundings, till we reach the most curiously minute resemblances to natural objects in the leaf and stick insects, and those which are so like flowers or moss or birds' droppings that they deceive the acutest eye. We have learnt, further, that these varied forms of protective colouring are far more numerous than has been usually suspected, because, what appear to be very conspicuous colours or markings when the species is observed in a museum or in a menagerie, are often highly protective when the creature is seen under the natural conditions of its existence. From these varied classes of facts it seems not improbable that fully one-half of the species in the animal kingdom possess colours which have been more or less adapted to secure for them concealment or protection.
Passing onward we find the explanation of a distinct type of colour or marking, often superimposed upon protective tints, in the importance of easy recognition by many animals of their fellows, their parents, or their mates. By this need we have been able to account for markings that seem calculated to make the animal conspicuous, when the general tints and well-known habits of the whole group demonstrate the need of concealment. Thus also we are able to explain the constant symmetry in the markings of wild animals, as well as the numerous cases in which the conspicuous colours are concealed when at rest and only become visible during rapid motion. In striking contrast to ordinary protective coloration we have "warning colours," usually very conspicuous and often brilliant or gaudy, which serve to indicate that their possessors are either dangerous or uneatable to the usual enemies of their tribe. This kind of coloration is probably more prevalent than has been hitherto supposed, because in the case of many tropical animals we are quite unacquainted with their special and most dangerous enemies, and are also unable to determine whether they are or are not distasteful to those enemies. As a kind of corollary to the "warning colours," we find the extraordinary phenomena of "mimicry," in which defenceless species obtain protection by being mistaken for those which, from any cause, possess immunity from attack. Although a large number of instances of warning colour and of mimicry are now recorded, it is probably still an almost unworked field of research, more especially in tropical regions and among the inhabitants of the ocean.
The phenomena of sexual diversities of coloration next engaged our attention, and the reasons why Mr. Darwin's theory of "sexual selection," as regards colour and ornament, could not be accepted were stated at some length, together with the theory of animal coloration and ornament we propose to substitute for it. This theory is held to be in harmony with the general facts of animal coloration, while it entirely dispenses with the very hypothetical and inadequate agency of female choice in producing the detailed colours, patterns, and ornaments, which in so many cases distinguish the male sex.
If my arguments on this point are sound, they will dispose also of Mr. Grant Allen's view of the direct action of the colour sense on the animal integuments.[161] He argues that the colours of insects and birds reproduce generally the colours of the flowers they frequent or the fruits they eat, and he adduces numerous cases in which flower-haunting insects and fruit-eating birds are gaily coloured. This he supposes to be due to the colour-taste, developed by the constant presence of bright flowers and fruits, being applied to the selection of each variation towards brilliancy in their mates; thus in time producing the gorgeous and varied hues they now possess. Mr. Allen maintains that "insects are bright where bright flowers exist in numbers, and dull where flowers are rare or inconspicuous;" and he urges that "we can hardly explain this wide coincidence otherwise than by supposing that a taste for colour is produced through the constant search for food among entomophilous blossoms, and that this taste has reacted upon its possessors through the action of unconscious sexual selection."