The Evolution Theory, Vol. 1 of 2

by August Weismann

It must be allowed that the colour is certainly not the sole attraction to the flower; the fragrance helps in most cases, and even this is not the object of the insect's visits. The real object is the nectar, to which colour and fragrance only show the way. The development of fragrance and nectar must, like that of the colour, have been carried on and increased by processes of selection, which had their basis in the necessity for securing insect-visits, and as soon as these main qualities of the flower were established greater refinements would begin, and flower-forms would be evolved, which would diverge farther and farther, especially in shape, from the originally simple and regular form of the blossom.

The reason for this must have lain chiefly in the fact that, after insect-visits in general were secured by a flower, it would be advantageous to exclude all insects which would pillage the nectar without rendering in return the service of cross-fertilization—all those, therefore, which were unsuited either because of their minute size or because of the inconstancy of their visits. Before the butterflies and the bees existed, the regularly formed flat flower with unconcealed nectar would be visited by a mixed company of caddis-flies, saw-flies, and ichneumon-flies. But as the nectar changed its place to the deeper recesses of the flower it was withdrawn from all but the more intelligent insects, and thus the circle of visitors was already narrowed to some extent. But when in a particular species the petals fused into a short tube, all visitors were excluded whose mouth-parts were too short to reach the nectar; while among those which could reach it the process of proboscis-formation began; the under lip, or the first maxillæ, or both parts together, lengthened step for step with the corolla-tube of the flower, and thus from the caddis-flies came the butterflies, and from the ichneumon-flies the burrowing-wasps (Sphegidæ) and the bees.

At first sight one might perhaps imagine that it would have been more advantageous to the flowers to attract a great many visitors, but this is obviously not the case. On the contrary, specialized flowers, accessible only to a few visitors, have a much greater certainty of being pollinated by them, because insects which only fly to a few species are more certain to visit these, and above all to visit many flowers of the same species one after another. Hermann Müller observed that, in four minutes, one of the humming-bird hawk-moths (Macroglossa stellatarum) visited 108 different flowers of the same species, the beautiful Alpine violet (Viola calcarata), one after the other, and it may have effected an equal number of pollinations in that short time.

It was, therefore, a real advantage to the flowers to narrow their circle of visitors more and more by varying so that only the useful visitors could gain access to their nectar, and that the rest should be excluded. Thus there arose 'bee-flowers,' 'butterfly-flowers,' 'hawk-moth flowers,' and, indeed, in many cases, a species of flower has become so highly specialized that its fertilization can only be brought about by a single species of insect. This explains the remarkable adaptations of the orchids and the enormous length of the proboscis in certain butterflies. Even our own hawk-moths Macroglossa stellatarum and Sphinx convolvuli show an astonishing length of proboscis, which measures 8 cm. in the latter species. In Macrosilia cluentius, in Brazil, the proboscis is 20 cm. in length; and in Madagascar there grows an orchid with nectaries 30 cm. in length, filled with nectar to a depth of 2 cm., but the fertilizing hawk-moth is not yet known.

Thus we may say that the flowers, by varying in one direction or another, have selected a definite circle of visitors, and, conversely, that particular insect-groups have selected particular flowers for themselves, for those transformations of the flowers were always most advantageous which secured to them the exclusive visits of their best crossing agents, and these transformations were, on the one hand, such as kept off unwelcome visitors, and, on the other hand, such as attracted the most suitable ones.

From the botanical point of view the assumption that flowers and flower-visiting insects have been adapted to each other by means of processes of selection has been regarded as untenable, because every variation in the flower presupposes a corresponding one in the insect. I should not have mentioned this objection had it not come from such a famous naturalist as Nägeli, and if it were not both interesting and useful in our present discussion. Nägeli maintained that selection could not, for instance, have effected a lengthening of the corolla-tube of a flower, because the proboscis of the insects must have lengthened simultaneously with it. If the corolla-tube had lengthened alone, without the proboscis of the butterfly being at the same time elongated, the flower would no longer be fertilized at all, and if the lengthening of the proboscis preceded that of the corolla-tube it would have no value for the butterfly, and could not therefore have been the object of a process of selection.

This objection overlooks the facts that a species of plant and of butterfly consists not of one individual but of thousands or millions, and that these are not absolutely uniform, but in fact heterogeneous. It is precisely in this that the struggle for existence consists—that the individuals of every species differ from one another, and that some are better, others less well constituted. The elimination of the latter and the preferring of the former constitutes the process of selection, which always secures the fitter by continually rejecting the less fit. In the case we are considering, then, there would be, among the individuals of the plant-species concerned, flowers with a longer and flowers with a shorter corolla-tube, and among the butterflies some with a longer and some with a shorter proboscis. If among the flowers the longer ones were more certain to be cross-fertilized than the shorter ones, because hurtful visitors were better excluded, the longer ones would produce more and better seeds, and would transmit their character to more descendants; and if, among the butterflies, those with the longer proboscis had an advantage, because the nectar in the longer tubes would, so to speak, be reserved for them, and they would thus be better nourished than those with the shorter proboscis, the number of individuals with long proboscis must have increased from generation to generation. Thus the length of the corolla-tube and the length of the proboscis would go on increasing as long as there was any advantage in it for the flower, and both parties must of necessity have varied pari passu, since every lengthening of the corolla was accompanied by a preferring of the longest proboscis variation. The augmentation of the characters depended on, and could only have depended on, a guiding of the variations in the direction of utility. But this is exactly what we call, after Darwin and Wallace, Natural Selection.

We have, however, in the history of flowers, a means of demonstrating the reality of the processes of selection in two other ways. In the first place, it is obvious that no other interpretation can be given of such simultaneous mutual adaptations of two different kinds of organisms. If we were to postulate, as Nägeli, for instance, did, an intrinsic Power of Development in organisms, which produces and guides their variations, we should, as I have already said, be compelled also to take for granted a kind of pre-established harmony, such as Leibnitz assumed to account for the correlation of body and mind: plant and insect must always have been correspondingly altered so that they bore the same relation to each other as two clocks which were so exactly fashioned that they always kept time, though they did not influence each other. But the case would be more complicated than that of the clocks, because the changes which must have taken place on both sides were quite different, and yet at the same time such that they corresponded as exactly as Will and Action. The whole history of the earth and of the forms of life must, therefore, have been foreseen down to the smallest details, and embodied in the postulated Power of Development.

But such an assumption could hardly lay claim to the rank of a scientific hypothesis. Although every grain of sand blown about by the wind on this earth could certainly only have fallen where it actually did fall, yet it is in the power of any of us to throw a handful of sand wherever it pleases us, and although even this act of throwing must have had its sufficient reason in us, yet no one could maintain that its direction and the places where the grains fell were predestined in the history of the earth. In other words: That which we call chance plays a part also in the evolution of organisms, and the assumption of a Power of Development, predestinating even in detail, is contradicted by the fact that species are transformed in accordance with the chance conditions of their life.