Thus the relative imperfection of the flower-adaptations, which in general are so worthy of admiration, affords a further indication that their origin is due to processes of selection.
ADDITIONAL NOTE TO CHAPTER X.
It has been remarked that the chapter on the Origin of Flowers in the German Edition contains no discussion and refutation of the objections which have up till recently been urged against the theory of flowers propounded by Darwin and Hermann Müller. I admit that this chapter seemed to be so harmonious and so well rounded, and at the same time so convincing as to the reality of the processes of selection, that the feeble objections to it, and the attempts of opponents to find another explanation of the phenomena, might well be disregarded in this book.
However, the most important of these objections and counter-theories may here be briefly mentioned.
Plateau in Ghent was the first to collect facts which appeared to contradict the Darwinian theory of flowers; he observed that insects avoided artificial flowers, even when they were indistinguishable in colour from natural ones as far as our eyes could perceive, and he concluded from this that it is not the colour which guides the insects to the flowers, that they find the blossoms less by their sense of sight than by their sense of smell. But great caution is required in drawing conclusions from experiments of this kind. I once placed artificial marguerites (Chrysanthemum leucanthemum) among natural ones in a roomy frame in the open air, and for a considerable time I was unable to see any of the numerous butterflies (Vanessa urticæ), which were flying about the real chrysanthemums, settle on one of the artificial flowers. The insects often flew quite close to them without paying them the least attention, and I was inclined to conclude that they either perceived the difference at sight, or that they missed the odour of the natural flowers in the artificial ones. But in the course of a few days it happened twice in my presence that a butterfly settled on one of the artificial blooms and persistently groped about with fully outstretched tube to find the entrance to the honey. It was only after prolonged futile attempts that it desisted and flew away. That bees are guided by the eye in their visits to flowers has been shown by A. Forel, who cut off the whole proboscis, together with the antennæ, from humble-bees which were swarming eagerly about the flowers. He thus robbed them of the whole apparatus of smell, and nevertheless they flew down from a considerable height direct to the same flowers. An English observer, Mr. G. N. Bulman, has been led to believe, with Plateau, that it is a matter of entire indifference to the bees whether the flowers are blue, or red, or simply green in colour, if only they contain honey, and that therefore the bees could have played no part in the development of blue flowers, as Hermann Müller assumed they had, and that they could have no preference for blue or any other colour, as Sir John Lubbock and others had concluded from their experiments. This is correct in so far that bees feed as eagerly on the greenish blossoms of the lime-tree as they do on the deep-blue gentian of the Alpine meadows or the red blossoms of the Weigelia, the dog-roses of our gardens or the yellow buttercups (Ranunculus) of our meadows; they despise nothing that yields them honey. But it certainly does not follow from this that the bees may not, under certain circumstances, have exercised a selecting influence upon the fixation and intensification of a new colour-variety of a flower. This is less a question of a colour-preference, in the human sense, on the part of the bees than of the greater visibility of the colour in question in the environment peculiar to the flower, and of the amount of rivalry the bees meet with from other insects in regard to the same flower. In individual cases this would be difficult to demonstrate, especially since we can form only an approximate idea of the insect's power of seeing colour, and cannot judge what the colours of the individual blossoms count for in the mosaic picture of a flowery meadow. Yet this is the important point, for, as soon as the bees perceive one colour more readily than another, the preponderance of this colour-variety over other variations is assured, since it will be more frequently visited. In the same way we cannot guess in individual cases why one species of flower should exhale perfume while a nearly related species does not. But when we remember that many flowers adapted for the visits of dipterous insects possess a nauseous carrion-like smell, by means of which they not only attract flies but scare off other insects, we can readily imagine cases in which it was of importance to a flower to be able to be easily found by bees without betraying itself by its pleasant fragrance to other less desirable visitors.
Thus, therefore, we can understand the odourless but intensely blue species of gentian, if we may assume that its blue colour is more visible to bees than to other insects. If I were to elaborate in detail all the principles which here suggest themselves to me I should require to write a complete section, and I am unwilling to do this until I can bring forward a much larger number of new observations than I am at present in a position to do. All I wish to do here is to exhort doubters to modesty, and to remind them that these matters are exceedingly complex, and that we should be glad and grateful that expert observers like Darwin and Hermann Müller have given us some insight into the principles interconnecting the facts, instead of imagining whenever we meet with some little apparently contradictory fact, which may indeed be quite correct in itself, that the whole theory of the development of flowers through insects has been overthrown. Let us rather endeavour to understand such facts, and to arrange them in their places as stones of the new building.
Often the contradiction is merely the result of the imperfect theoretical conceptions of its discoverer, as we have already shown in regard to Nägeli. Bulman, too, fancies he has proved that bees do not distinguish between the different varieties of a flower, but visit them indiscriminately with the same eagerness, thus causing intercrossing of all the varieties, and preventing any one from becoming dominant. But are the varieties which we plant side by side in our gardens of the kind that are evolved by bees? That is to say, are their differences such as will turn the scale for or against the visits of the bees? If one were less, another more easily seen by the bees; or if one were more fragrant, or had a fragrance more agreeable to bees than the other, the result of the experiment would probably have been very different.
One more objection has been made. It is said that the bees, although exclusively restricted, both themselves and their descendants, to a diet of flowers, are not so constant to a particular flower as the theory requires. They do indeed exhibit a 'considerable amount of constancy,' and often visit a large number of flowers of the same species in succession, but the theory requires that they should not only confine themselves to this one species, but to a single variety of this species. These views show that their authors have not penetrated far towards an understanding of the nature of selection. Nature does not operate with individual flowers, but with millions and myriads of them, and not with the flowers of a single spring, but with those of hundreds and thousands of years. How often a particular bee may carry pollen uselessly to a strange flower without thereby lowering the aggregate of seeds so far that the existence of the species seems imperilled, or how often she may fertilize the pistil of a useful variation with the pollen of the parent species, without interrupting or hindering the process of the evolution of the variety, no mortal can calculate, and what the theory requires can only be formulated in this way: The constancy of the bees in their visits to the flowers must be so great that, on an average, the quantity of seeds will be formed which suffices for the preservation of the species. And in regard to the transformation of a species, the attraction which the useful variety has for the bees must, on an average, be somewhat stronger than that of the parent species. As soon as this is the case the seeds of the variety will be formed in preponderant numbers, although they may not all be quite pure from the first, and by degrees, in the course of generations, the plants of the new variety will preponderate more and more over those of the parent form, and finally will alone remain. In the first case we have before our eyes the proof that, in spite of the imperfect constancy of the bees, a sufficient number of seeds is produced to secure the existence of the species. Or does Mr. Bulman conclude from the fact that the bees are not absolutely constant that flowers are not fertilized by bees at all?
I cannot conclude this note without touching briefly upon what the opponents of the flower theory have contributed, and what explanation of the facts they are prepared to offer.