Biological significance of colours—Protective colours of eggs—Animals of the snow-region—Animals of the desert—Transparent animals—Green animals—Nocturnal animals—Double colour-adaptation—Protective marking of caterpillars—Warning markings—Dimorphism of colouring in caterpillars—Shunting back of colouring in ontogeny—'Sympathetic' colouring in diurnal Lepidoptera—In nocturnal Lepidoptera—Theoretical considerations—The influence of illumination in the production of protective colouring, Tropidoderus—Harmony of protective colouring in minute details—Notodonta—Objections—Imitation of Strange objects, Xylina—Leaf-butterflies, Kallima—Hebomoja—Nocturnal Lepidoptera with leaf-markings—Orthoptera resembling leaves—Caterpillars of the Geometridæ.
We have seen what Darwin meant by natural selection, and we understand that this process really implies a transformation of organisms by slow degrees, in the direction of adaptive fitness—a transformation which must ensue as necessarily as when a human selector, prompted by conscious intention, tries to improve an animal in a particular direction, by always selecting the 'fittest' animals for breeding. In nature, too, there is selection, because in every generation the majority succumb in the struggle for life, while on an average those which survive, attain to reproductive maturity, and transmit their characters to their descendants, are those which are best adapted to the conditions of their life—that is, which possess those variations of most advantage in overcoming the dangers of life. Since individuals are always variable in some degree, since their variations can be inherited by their progeny, and since the continually repeated elimination of the majority of those descendants is a fact, the inference from these premisses must be correct; there must be a 'natural selection' in the direction of a gradually increasing fitness and effectiveness of the forms of life.
We cannot, however, directly observe this process of natural selection; it goes on too slowly, and our powers of observation are neither comprehensive nor fine enough. How could we set about investigating the millions of individuals which constitute the numerical strength of a species on a given area, to find out whether they possess some variable character in a definite percentage, and whether this percentage increases in the course of decades or centuries? And there is, furthermore, the difficulty of estimating the biological importance of any variation that may occur. Even in cases where we know its significance quite well in a general way, we cannot estimate its relative value in reference to the variation of some other character, though that other may also be quite intelligible. Later on, we shall speak of protective colouring, and in so doing we shall discuss the caterpillars of one of the Sphingidæ, which occur in two protective colours, some being brown, others green. From the greater frequency of the brown form we may conclude that brown is here a better adaptation than green, but how could we infer this from the character itself, or from our merely approximate knowledge of the mode of life of the species, its habits, and the dangers which threaten it? A direct estimation of the relative protective value of the two colours is altogether out of the question. The survival of the fittest cannot be proved in nature, simply because we are not in a position to decide, a priori, what the fittest is. For this reason I was forced to try to make the process of natural selection clear by means of imagined examples, rather than observed ones.
But though we cannot directly follow the uninterrupted process of natural selection which is going on under natural conditions, there is another kind of proof for this hypothesis, besides that which consists in logically deducing a process from correct premisses; I should like to call this the practical proof. If a hypothesis can be made to explain a great number of otherwise unintelligible facts, it thereby gains a high degree of probability, and this is increased when there are no facts to be found which are in contradiction to it.
Both of these criteria are fulfilled by the selection-hypothesis, and indeed the phenomena which may be explained by it, and are intelligible in no other way, present themselves to us in such enormous numbers, that there can be no doubt whatever as to the correctness of the principle; all that can be still disputed is, how far it reaches.
Let us now turn our attention to this practical way of proving the theory by the facts which it serves to interpret, beginning with a consideration of the external appearance of organisms, their colour and form.
The Colour and Form of Organisms.
Erasmus Darwin had in many cases already rightly recognized the biological significance of the colouring of an animal species, and we may be sure that many of the numerous good observers of earlier times had similar ideas. I can even state definitely that Rösel von Rosenhof, the famous miniature-painter and naturalist of Nürnberg in the middle of the eighteenth century, recognized clearly, and gave beautiful descriptions of what we now call colour-adaptation. It is true that he gave them only as isolated instances, and was far from recognizing the phenomenon of colour-adaptation in general, or even from inquiring into its causes. From the time of Linné, the endeavour to establish new species overshadowed all the finer observation of life-habits and inter-relations, and, later on, after Blumenbach, Kielmeyer, Cuvier, and others, the eager investigation of the internal structure of animals also tended to divert attention from these œcological relations. In systematic zoology, colour ranked only as a diagnostic character of subordinate value, because it is often not very stable, and indeed is sometimes very variable; it was therefore found preferable to keep to such relatively stable differences as are to be found in the form, size, and number of parts.
Charles Darwin was the first to redirect attention to the fact that the colouring of animals is anything but an unimportant matter; that, on the contrary, in many cases it is of use to the animal, e.g. in making it inconspicuous; a green insect is not readily seen on green leaves, nor a grey-brown one on the bark of a tree.
It is plain that the origin of such a so-called 'sympathetic' coloration, harmonizing with the usual environment of the animal, can be easily interpreted in terms of the principle of selection; and it is equally evident that it cannot be explained by the Lamarckian principle of transformation. Through the accumulation of slight useful variations in colour, it is quite possible for a green or a brown insect to arise from a previous colour, but a grey or a brown insect could not possibly have become a green one simply by getting into the habit of sitting on a green leaf; and still less can the will of the animal or any kind of activity have brought the change about. Even if the animal had any idea that it would be very useful to it to be coloured green, now that it had got into the habit of sitting on a leaf, it could not have done anything towards attaining the desirable green colour. Quite recently the possibility of a kind of colour-photography on the skin of the animal has been suggested, but there are many species whose colouring is in contrast to their environment, so that the skin in these cases does not act as a photographic plate, and it would, therefore, have to be explained how it comes to pass that it functions as such in the sympathetically coloured animals. I do not ask for proof of the chemical composition of the stuff which is supposed to be sensitive to light. Whether this be iodide of silver or something quite different, the question remains the same: how comes it that it has only appeared in animals to which a sympathetic colouring is advantageous in the struggle for life? And the answer, from our point of view, must read: it has arisen through natural selection in those species to which a sympathetic colouring is useful. Thus even if the supposition that sympathetic colouring is due to automatic photography on the part of the skin were correct, we should still have to regard it as an outcome of natural selection; but it is not correct—at least in general—as the above objection shows, and as will be further apparent from many of the phenomena of colour-adaptation which I shall now adduce.