In the lobster or crayfish the auditory organs are found at the base of the smaller feelers or antennules. They are little sacs formed by an infolding of the external integument (see Fig. 26, p. 259). Beautifully feathered auditory hairs project into the sac along specialized ridges, and the sac in many cases contains grains of sand which play the part of otoliths. Hensen seems to have proved that shrimps collect the grains of sand and place them in the auditory sac for this purpose. The curious shrimp-like Mysis has two beautiful auditory sacs in its tail. These are provided with auditory hairs. Hensen watched these under the microscope while a musical scale was sounded, and found that the special hairs responded each to a certain note. When this particular note was sounded the hair was thrown into such violent vibration as to become invisible, but by other notes it was unaffected.

Passing now to insects, we may first note that grasshoppers and crickets have an auditory organ on the front leg. These are provided with tympanic membranes, and the breathing-tubes, or tracheæ, are so arranged that the pressure of the air is equalized on the two sides of the membrane—just as in us and other vertebrates the same end is effected by a tube which runs from the interior of the drum of the ear to the mouth-cavity (see Fig. 27). In the organ within the leg there is a group of cells, followed by a row of similar cells which diminish regularly in size from above downwards. Each is in connection with a nerve-fibril, and contains a delicate auditory rod. It has been suggested that the diminution in size of the cells may have reference to the appreciation of different notes, but nothing definite is known on the matter. Ants, too, have an auditory organ, as shown by Sir John Lubbock, in the tibia of the front leg. But in locusts it is situated on the first segment of the abdomen. In flies there are a number of vesicles, generally regarded as auditory (but by some as olfactory), at the base of the rudimentary hind wings—the so-called halteres, or balancers.

Observation seems to point to the fact that in most insects the sense of hearing is lodged in the feelers, or antennæ. Kirby made the following observation on a little moth: "I made," he says, "a quiet, not loud, but distinct noise; the antenna nearest to me immediately moved towards me. I repeated the noise at least a dozen times, and it was followed every time by the same motion of that organ, till at length the insect, being alarmed, became more agitated and violent in its motions." Hicks wrote, in 1859, "Whoever has observed a tranquilly proceeding capricorn beetle which is suddenly surprised by a loud sound, will have seen how immovably outward it spreads its antennæ, and holds them porrect, as it were, with great attention, as long as it listens." The same observer described certain highly specialized organs in the antennæ of the hymenoptera (ants, bees, and wasps), which he thus describes: "They consist," he says, "of a small pit leading into a delicate tube, which, bending towards the base, dilates into an elongated sac having its end inverted." Of these remarkable organs, Sir John Lubbock says there are about twelve in the terminal segment, and he has suggested that they may serve as microscopic stethoscopes.

Mayer, experimenting with the feathered antenna of the male mosquito, found that some of the hairs were thrown into vigorous vibration when a note with 512 vibrations per second was sounded. And Sir John Lubbock, who quotes this observation, adds,[EZ] "It is interesting that the hum of the female gnat corresponds nearly to this note, and would consequently set the hairs in vibration." The same writer continues, "Moreover, those auditory hairs are most affected which are at right angles to the direction from which the sound comes. Hence, from the position of the antennæ and the hairs, a sound would act most intensely if it is directly in front of the head. Suppose, then, a male gnat hears the hum of a female at some distance. Perhaps the sound affects one antenna more than the other. He turns his head until the two antennæ are equally affected, and is thus able to direct his flight straight towards the female."

It is difficult to determine the range of hearing in the lower organisms. But it is quite possible, nay, very probable, that the superior limit of auditory sensation is much more extended in insects than it is in man. We know that many insects, such as the cicadas, the crickets and grasshoppers, many beetles, the death's-head moth, the death-watch, and others, make, in one way or another, sounds audible to us. But there may be many insect-sounds—we may not call them voices—which, though beyond our limits of hearing, are nevertheless audible to insects. At the other end of the scale, on the other hand, slow pulsations may be appreciated—for example, by aquatic creatures—by means of what we term the auditory organs, in a way that is not analogous to the sensation of sound in us. It may be noted that auditory organs are dotted about the body somewhat promiscuously in the various invertebrates. We have seen that auditory organs, or what are generally believed to be such, are found in the foot of bivalves, in the antennules of lobsters, in the fore legs of crickets and ants, in the abdomen of locusts, in the balancers of flies, and in the tail of Mysis. But when we come to consider the matter, there is no reason why the organ of hearing should be in any special part of the body. The waves of sound rain in upon the organism from all sides. There is no great advantage in having the organs of hearing in the line of progression, as with sight, where the rays come in right lines; nor in having them in close association with the mouth, as in the case of the organ of smell.

Closely connected with the organ of hearing in vertebrates is the organ of another and but recently recognized sense. In briefly describing the auditory apparatus in man, mention was made of three curved membranous loops, the so-called semicircular canals. A few more words must now be said about them and the membranous sac with which they are connected.

The sac lies in a somewhat irregular cavity in a bone at the side of the head, in the walls of which are five openings leading into curved tunnels in the bone in which lie the membranous loops. The planes in which the three semicircular canals lie are nearly at right angles to each other, and they are called respectively the horizontal, the superior, and the posterior. The two latter unite at one end before they reach the sac; hence there are five, and not six, openings into the cavity. At one end of each semicircular canal is a swelling, or ampulla, in each of which is a ridge, or crest, abundantly supplied with hair-cells. And in a little recess in the sac there is, occupying its floor, its front wall, and part of its outer wall, a patch of hair-cells covered by a gelatinous material with numerous small crystalline otoliths. The only other point that calls for notice is that the membranous sac does not fit closely in the bony cavity in which it lies, while the diameter of the membranous semicircular canals is considerably less than that of their bony tunnels, except at the ampullæ, or swellings, where they fit pretty closely. Both the bony cavity and the membranous labyrinth (as it is called) are filled with fluid.

From its close connection with the organ of hearing, this apparatus was for long regarded as in some way auditory in its function, and it was surmised that it enabled us to perceive the direction from which the sound came. But how it could do so was not clear. In 1820 M. Flourens made the observation that the injury or division of a membranous canal gave rise in the patient to rotatory movements of the animal round an axis at right angles to the plane of the divided canal; and he, therefore, suggested that the canals might be concerned in the co-ordination of movement. They are now regarded as the organs of a sense of rotation or acceleration.

That we have such a sense of rotation has been proved experimentally.[FA] Let a man, blindfolded, sit on a smooth-running turn-table. When it begins to rotate he feels that he is being moved round, but if the rotation be continued at the same rate, this feeling quickly dies away. If the rotation be increased, he again feels as if he were being moved round, but this again soon dies away. Further increase gives a fresh sensation, which in turn subsides, and the man may then be spinning round rapidly, and be perfectly unconscious of the fact. He is only aware that he has been gently turned round a little two or three times. Now let the speed of rotation be slackened. He has a sensation of being gently turned round a little in the opposite direction. Each time the speed is lessened he has this sense of being turned the reverse way. From these experiments we see that what we are conscious of is change of rate of rotation, or, in technical language, acceleration, positive or negative.

From Professor Crum Brown's paper in Nature I transcribe, with some verbal modifications, his account of how the semicircular canals enable us to feel these changes of motion. Let us consider the action of one canal. If the head be rotated about a line at right angles to the plane of the canal, with the ampulla leading, there will be a tendency for the fluid within the sac to flow into the ampulla, and for the fluid around the semicircular canal to flow into the cavity in which the sac lies. These movements will conspire to stretch the membranous ampulla, and thus to stimulate the hair-cells. This stretching will not take place in that canal if the rotation be in the reverse direction. But on the opposite side of the head is another canal in the same plane, but turned the other way. In the reversed rotation the ampulla in this canal will lead, and its hair-cells will be stimulated. Thus by means of the two canals on either side of the head in the same plane, rotation in either direction can be appreciated. And since there are two other pairs of semicircular canals in two other planes, rotation in any direction will be recognized by means of one or more of the six canals.

It is thus by means of the semicircular canals that we can appreciate acceleration of rotatory motion.[FB] But we can also appreciate acceleration of movements of translation—forwards or backwards, up or down. And Professor Mach has suggested that it is through the stimulation of the hair-cells in the patch in the sac itself (the so-called macula acustica) that we are able to appreciate these changes. The otoliths, held loosely and lightly in position by the gelatinous substance in which they are embedded, may, through their inertia, aid in the stimulation of the sense-hairs.

And this naturally suggests the question whether those sense-organs in the invertebrates which contain otoliths may not be regarded with more probability as organs for the appreciation of changes of motion than as auditory organs. This for some years has been my own belief. I have always felt a difficulty in understanding how the otoliths are set a-dance by auditory vibrations. But their inertia would materially aid in the appreciation of changes of motion. In some forms the otoliths are held in suspension in a gelatinous material. In others—the molluscs, for example—the otolith (which is generally single) is retained in a free position by ciliary action. In aquatic creatures an organ for the appreciation of changes of motion might be of more service than an auditory organ. And if one be permitted to speculate, one may surmise that the sense of hearing may be a refinement of the sense through which changes of motion are appreciated. First would come a sense of movements of the organism in the medium through the stimulation of the sense-hairs by the relative motion of the otolith; then these sense-hairs, with increased delicacy, might appreciate shocks in the medium; and, eventually, those more delicate shocks which we know as auditory waves. In this way we might account for the fact that in the vertebrates the same organ, through different parts of its structure, appreciates both change of motion and auditory vibrations. And thus the organs in the invertebrata which are generally regarded as auditory, and for which has been suggested the function of reacting to changes of motion, may, in truth, subserve both purposes—may be organs in which the differentiation I have hinted at is taking place.

Sight, like hearing, is a telæsthetic sense. Through it we become aware of certain vibratory states of more or less distant objects. The medium by means of which these vibrations are transmitted is not, as in the case of hearing, the air, but the æther which pervades all space. The rate of transmission is about 186,000 miles in a second. That which answers in vision to pitch in hearing is colour. The lowest, or gravest, light-tone to which we are sensitive is deep red, where the number of vibrations per second is about 370 billions (370,000,000,000,000). The highest, or most acute, light-tone is violet, with about 833 billion vibrations in a second. If white light be passed through a prism, the rays are classified according to their vibration-periods, and are spread out in a spectrum, or band of rainbow colours. But different individuals vary, as we shall presently see, in their sensibility to the lowest and the highest vibrations. Some people are, moreover, relatively or absolutely insensible to certain colours, generally either red or green. Such persons are said to be colour-blind. When the rainbow colours are combined in due proportion, or when pairs or sets of them are combined in certain ways, white light is produced.

We saw that in the case of sound-waves, when the number of vibrations in a second is doubled, the sound is raised in pitch by an octave. Using this term in an analogous way for colour-tones, we may say the range in average vision is about one octave—that is, from about 400 billion to about 800 billion vibrations in a second. But, though these are the limits in human vision, we know of the existence of many octaves of radiant energy physically in continuity with the light-vibrations. Photography has made us acquainted with ultra-violet vibrations up to about 1600 billions per second—an octave above the violet. And Professor Langley's observations with the bolometer indicate the existence of waves with as low a vibration-period as one billion per second, and even here, in all probability, the limit has not been reached. To the vibrations more rapid than those that are concerned in the sensation of violet, the human organism is apparently in no manner sensitive. But to infra-red vibrations down to about thirty billions per second the nerves of the skin respond through the temperature-sense. We shall have to return to these limits of sensation at the close of this chapter.

The human eye is a nearly spherical organ, capable of tolerably free movements of rotation in its socket. What we may call the outer case, which is white and opaque elsewhere, is quite transparent in front. Through this transparent window may be seen the coloured iris, in the centre of which is a circular aperture, the pupil. The size of the pupil changes with the amount of light—it dilates or contracts, according as the light is less or more intense. Just behind it, and still in the front part of the eye, is the transparent lens, the convexity of the anterior surface of which can be altered in the accommodation of the organ for near or far vision. The space between the lens and iris and the corneal window of the eye is filled with a watery fluid. Behind the lens there is a transparent, semi-fluid, jelly-like material, filling the rest of the chamber of the eye. At the back of the eye is spread out the sensitive membrane—the retina. The structure of this membrane is very complicated, and cannot be described here. It is, however, indicated in Fig. 32. For our present purpose it is sufficient to note that here are the end-organs of the optic nerve; that these consist of a number of delicate rods and cones; and that these rods and cones do not face in the direction from which the light comes, but face towards the back of the eyeball, where a pigmented substance is developed. The rays of light are thus focussed through the retina on to this pigmented substance; the ends of the rods and cones are stimulated; and the stimulation is handed on, augmented in certain intermediate ganglia, to the delicate transparent nerve-fibres in the front of the retina. These collect to a certain spot, where they pass through the retina to form the optic nerve. Where they pass through the retina there can, of course, be no rods and cones. And in this spot there is no power of vision. It is the blind spot. The reality of its existence can easily be proved. Make a dot on a piece of writing-paper, and about three inches to the left of it place a threepenny or sixpenny bit. Close the right eye, and look with the left eye at the dot. The sixpenny bit will also be seen, but not distinctly. Keep the eye fixed on the dot, and move the head slowly away from the paper. At a distance of about ten inches the coin will completely disappear from view. Its image then falls on the blind spot.

The organ of vision, then, in us consists of an essential sensory membrane, the retina, with its delicate rods and cones; and an accessory apparatus for focussing an inverted image on to the sensitive surface of the retina. The surface is not, however, equally sensitive, or, in any case, does not give an equal power of discrimination, throughout its whole extent. This is seen in the experiment above described. When we look at the dot we see the coin, but not distinctly. The area of clear and distinct vision is, in fact, very small, constituting the yellow spot about 1/12 of an inch (2 millimetres) long, and 1/30 of an inch (.8 millimetre) broad. And even within this small area there is a still more restricted area of most acute sensibility only 1/120 of an inch (.2 millimetre) in diameter. Nevertheless, within this minute area there are some two thousand cones, the rods being here absent. In carefully examining an object we allow this area of acute vision to range over it. Hence the extreme value of that delicate mobility which the eye possesses—a mobility that is accompanied by muscular sensations of great nicety.

We saw that the sense of touch in the tongue is sufficiently delicate to enable us to recognize, as two, points of contact separated by 1/25 of an inch (1.1 millimetre). What, in similar terms, is the delicacy of sight? At what distance apart, on the most delicate part of the retina, can two points of stimulation be recognized as distinct from each other? If the points of stimulation be not less than 1/6000 of an inch (.004 millimetre) apart, they can be distinguished as two. Below this they fuse into one. The diameter of the end of a single cone in the yellow spot is also about 1/6000 of an inch (.0045 millimetre).

With regard to the mode in which the stimulation of the retinal elements is effected, we have no complete knowledge. Certain observations of Boll and Kühne, however, show that when an animal is killed in the dark the retina has a peculiar purple colour which is at once destroyed if the retina be exposed to light. If a rabbit be killed at the moment when the image, say, of a window, is formed on the retina, and the membrane at once plunged in a solution of alum, the image may be fixed, and an "optogram" of the window may be seen on the retina. The discharge of the colour of the retinal purple may be regarded as the sign of a chemical change effected by the impact of the light-vibrations. But in the yellow spot there seems to be no visual purple. It is, indeed, developed only in the rods, not in the cones. Here, probably, chemical or metabolic changes occur without the obvious sign of the bleaching of retinal purple. In the dusk-loving owl the retinal purple is well developed, but in the bat it is said to be absent.

We saw that in the case of hearing the auditory organ is fitted to respond to air-borne vibrations varying from about thirty to thirty thousand per second. And though the details of the process are at present not well understood, it is believed that certain parts of the recipient surface are fitted to respond to low tones, other parts to intermediate tones, and yet others to high tones. Thus the reception is serial. If there be two pianos near each other, accurately in tune, any note struck on one will set the corresponding note vibrating in the other.[FC] The auditory organ may be likened to this second piano. Special parts respond to special tones.

Now, in the case of vision, the conditions are different. The reception cannot be serial. As I range my eye over a flower-bed, I bring the area of distinct vision on to a number of different colours, and these are seen to be distinct, though they are received on the same part of the retinal surface. It might, perhaps, be suggested that special cones were set apart for each shade of colour. But there are only some two thousand cones in the central area of most acute vision, and Lyons silk-manufacturers prepare pattern cards containing as many shades of coloured silks. So that there would be only one cone to each colour. And Herschel thought that the workers on the mosaics of the Vatican could distinguish at least thirty thousand different shades of colour! There are also many phenomena of colour-blending which show that colour-reception cannot in any sense be serial.

How, then, are we to account for our wide range of colour-sensation? Just as the blending by the artist on his palette of a limited number of pigments gives him the wide range of colour seen on his canvas, so the blending of a few colour-tones may give us the many shades we are able to distinguish. The smallest number of fundamental colour-tones which will fairly well account for the phenomena of colour-vision, is three. And these three are red, green, and blue or violet. These are the three so-called primary colours. All others are produced from these elements by blending.

To explain our ability to appreciate differences of colour, then, it is supposed, on the hypothesis of Young and Von Helmholtz, that three kinds of nerve-fibres exist in the retina, the stimulation of which gives respectively, red, green, and violet in consciousness. Professor McKendrick, interpreting Von Helmholtz, gives[FD] the following scheme:—

"1. Red excites strongly the fibres sensitive to red, and feebly the other two.

"2. Yellow excites moderately the fibres sensitive to red and green, feebly the violet.

"3. Green excites strongly the fibres sensitive to green, feebly the other two.

"4. Blue excites moderately the fibres sensitive to green and violet, feebly the red.

"5. Violet excites strongly the fibres sensitive to violet, feebly the other two.

"6. When the excitation is nearly equal for the three kinds of fibres, the sensation is white."

This theory cannot be regarded as more than a provisional hypothesis. Still, by its means we can explain many colour-phenomena. It is well known, for example, that if we gaze steadily at a red object, and then look aside at a grey surface, an after-image of the object will be seen of a blue colour. According to the theory, the red fibres have been tired and cannot so readily answer to stimulation. Over this part of the retina, therefore, the effect of grey light is to stimulate normally the fibres sensitive to green and violet, but only slightly those sensitive to red, owing to their tired condition. The result will be, as we see from the above scheme (4), the sensation of blue. Colour-blind people, on this view, are those in whom one set of the fibres, generally the red or the green, are lacking or ill developed.

We may, perhaps, with advantage restate this theory in terms of chemical change, or metabolism. On this view three kinds of "explosives" are developed in the retinal cones; for it is seemingly the cones, rather than the rods, which are concerned in colour-vision. All three explosive substances are unstable; but one, which we may call R., is especially unstable for the longer waves of the spectrum; another, G., for the waves of mid-period; a third, V., for those of smallest wave-length.

Suppose that R. only were developed. If, then, we were to look at a band of light spread out in spectrum wave-lengths, we should see a band[FE] of monochromatic r. light. Its centre would be bright, and here would be the maximum instability of R. On either side it would fade away. The lateral edges of the spectrum would be the limits of the instability of R. If G. only were developed, we should see only a band of monochromatic g. light. Its centre would not coincide with that for R., but would lie in a region of smaller wave-length. Here would be the maximum instability for G. On either side the green would fade away. Its lateral edges would mark the limits of the instability of G. But though their centres would not coincide, the R. band and the G. band would to a large extent overlap. Similarly with the band for V. It, too, would have its centre of maximum instability and its lateral edges of lessening instability. Its centre would lie in a region of yet smaller wave-length than that for G. And the v. band would overlap the green and the red.

Normally, all three bands are developed, and their blended overlapping gives the colours of the rainbow. For this reason the monochromatic bands r., g., and v. are unknown to us in experience. All the colour-tints we know are blended tints. What we call full-red light causes strong disruptive change in R., but decomposes slightly G., and probably also, but in much less degree, V.

Whether R., G., and V. are all three present in each cone, or whether they are each developed in separate cones, we do not know for certain. Nor are we certain that there are separate nerve-fibres for the transmission of stimuli due to R., G., and V.

When we look steadily at a red object we cause the disruption of R.; and since it takes some time for the reformation and reconstitution of this explosive substance, on turning the eye to a grey surface, G. and V. are alone, or in preponderating proportions, caused to undergo disruption. Hence the phenomena of complementary after-images. It is not merely a matter of the tiring of certain nerve-fibres, but a using-up of the explosive material in certain of the cones.

What is called colour-blindness is probably due to one of several abnormal conditions. It is possible that in some cases R., G., or V. may be entirely absent. More frequently they are in abnormal proportions. They probably vary in their sensitiveness, and not improbably in the wave-period to which they show the maximum response.

To test the variation, if any, in the limits of instability for R. and V., or in any case in the limits of colour-vision at the red end and at the violet end of the spectrum, in apparently normal individuals, my friend and colleague, Mr. A. P. Chattock, made, at my suggestion, a number of observations on some of the students of the University College, Bristol, to whom my best thanks are due for their kind willingness to be submitted to experiment. The instrument used[FF] was a single-prism spectro-goniometer.

In the accompanying diagram (Fig. 33) the results of some of these observations are graphically shown. The middle part of the spectrum, between the wave-lengths 420 and 740 millionths of a millimetre, is omitted, only the red end and the violet end being shown. The observations on thirty-four individuals, seventeen men and seventeen women, all under thirty years of age, are given for both eyes. The left-hand vertical line of each pair stands for the right eye in each case. To the left of the table are placed the wave-lengths in millionths of a millimetre.

Take, for example, the first pair of vertical lines. The individual whose colour-range they represent could detect red light in the spectrum up to 800 millionths of a millimetre wave-length for the right eye, and up to 811 for the left; and could detect violet light down to 403 and 404. Beyond these limits all was dark. But the last individual in the series, while his range in the violet was about the same, could only detect red light up to 743 and 750 millionths of a millimetre. His spectrum was so much shorter.

It is seen that there is more variation at the red end than at the violet end of the spectrum, and this notwithstanding that the violet rays are more spread out by the prism than the red rays. It is seen that the two eyes are often markedly different. This is not due to inaccuracy of observation, for certain individuals in which this occurred were tested several times with similar results. It is seen that the variations at the red end and the violet end are often independent, and that the absolute length of the visible spectrum differs in different individuals.

The following table presents these observations and a few others in another light:—

The individual N showed signs of colour-blindness, and is therefore not included in the table, but entered separately. He was unable to recognize the C line of the hydrogen spectrum (wave-length 656), which was brilliantly obvious to the normal eye.

These observations[FG] need further confirmation and extension. We intend to continue the investigation each session. They are, however, sufficient to show that in some individuals R. undergoes disruptive change on the impact of light-waves which have no noticeable effect on the retina of other individuals.

It is impossible here to do more than just touch the fringe of the difficult subject of colour-vision. And the only further fact that can here be noticed is that trichromatic colour-vision is apparently in us limited to the yellow-spot and its immediate neighbourhood. Around this is an area which is said to be bichromatic—all of us being, for this area, more or less green-blind. In the peripheral area around this, colour is indistinguishable, and we are only sensitive to light and shade. So far as the structure of the retina is concerned, we may notice in this connection that in the central region of most complete trichromatic vision there are cones only; around the yellow spot each cone is surrounded by a circle of rods; and further out into the peripheral region by two, three, or more circles of rods.

Concerning the sense of sight in the lower mammals little need be said. In many cases the acuteness of vision is remarkable. Mr. Romanes's experiments on Sally, the bald-headed chimpanzee at Regent's Park, led him to conclude that she was colour-blind, but I question whether the experiments described quite justify this conclusion. Sir John Lubbock was unable to teach his intelligent dog Van to distinguish between coloured cards; but the failure was as complete when the cards were marked respectively with one, two, or three dark bands. We are not justified, therefore, in ascribing the failure to colour-blindness. The real failure, probably, was in each case to make the animal understand what was wanted. Bulls are, at any rate, credited with strong colour-antipathies, and insect-eating mammals are probably not defective in the colour-sense.

It is said that nocturnal animals, such as mice, bats, and hedgehogs, have no retinal cones; and if the cones are associated with colour-vision, they may not improbably be unable to distinguish colours. Some moles are blind (e.g. the Cape golden mole). But the common European mole, though the eyes are exceedingly minute (1/25 of an inch in diameter), has the organ fairly developed, and is even said not to be very short-sighted. It is protected by long hairs when the animal is burrowing, and is only used when it comes to the surface of the ground.

It is probably in birds that vision reaches its maximum of acuteness. A tame jackdaw will show signs of uneasiness when seemingly nothing is visible in the sky. Presently, far up, a mere speck in the blue, a hawk will come within the range of far-sighted human vision. Steadily watch the speck as the hawk soars past, until it ceases to be visible; the jackdaw will still keep casting his eye anxiously upward for some little time. He may be only watching for the possible reappearance of the hawk. But just as he saw it before man could see it, so probably he still watches it after, to man's sight, it has become invisible. So, too, for nearer minute objects, the swift, as it wheels through the summer air, presumably sees the minute insects which constitute its food. And every one must have noticed how domestic fowls will pick out from among the sand-grains almost infinitesimal crumbs.

It is probable that the area of acute vision is much more widely diffused over the retina of birds than it is with us. In any case, the cones are more uniformly and more abundantly distributed over the general retinal surface.

An exceedingly interesting and important peculiarity in the retina of birds, which they share with some reptiles and fishes, is the development, in the cones, of coloured globules. "The retinæ of many birds, especially of the finch, the pigeon, and the domestic fowl, have been carefully examined by Dr. Waelchli, who finds that near the centre green is the predominant colour of the cones, while among the green cones red and orange ones are somewhat sparingly interspersed, and are nearly always arranged alternately—a red cone between two orange ones, and vice versâ. In a surrounding portion, called by Dr. Waelchli the red zone, the red and orange cones are arranged in chains, and are larger and more numerous than near the yellow spot; the green ones are of smaller size, and fill up the interspaces. Near the periphery the cones are scattered, the three colours about equally numerous and of equal size, while a few colourless cones are also seen. Dr. Waelchli examined the optical properties of the coloured cones by means of the micro-spectroscope, and found, as the colours would lead us to suppose, that they transmitted only the corresponding portions of the spectrum; and it would almost seem, excepting for the few colourless cones at the peripheral part of the retina, that the birds examined must have been unable to see blue, the whole of which would be absorbed by their colour-globules."[FH]

These facts are of exceeding interest. They seem to show that for these birds the retinal explosives are not the same as for us. They are R., O., and G. Moreover, the colour-globules will have the effect of excluding the phenomena of overlapping. For each kind of cone the spectrum must be limited to the narrow spectral band transmissible through the associated colour-globule. If these facts be so, it is not too much to say that the colour-vision of birds must be so utterly different from that of human beings, that, being human beings, we are and must remain unable to conceive its nature. The factors being different, and the blending of the factors by overlap being, by specially developed structures, lessened or excluded, the whole set of resulting phenomena must be different from ours. And this is a fact of the utmost importance when we consider the phenomena of sexual selection among birds, and those theories of coloration in insects which involve a colour-sense in birds.

Concerning the sense of sight in reptiles and in amphibians, little need here be said. At near distances some of them undoubtedly have great accuracy of vision. This is, perhaps, best seen in the chamæleon. In this curious animal the eyes are conical, and each moves freely, independently of the other. The eyelids encase the organ, except for a minute opening, looking like a small ink-spot at the blunted apex of the cone. The animal catches the insects on which it feeds by darting on to them its long elastic tongue and slinging them back into the mouth, glued to its sticky tip. Its aim is unerring, but it never strikes until both eyes come to rest on the prey, and great accuracy of vision must accompany the great accuracy of aim. Frogs and toads capture their prey in a somewhat similar way; and a great number of reptiles and amphibians are absolutely dependent for their subsistence on the acuteness and accuracy of their vision, which is, however, on the whole, markedly inferior to that of birds.

In fishes, from their aquatic habit, the lens and dioptric apparatus are specially modified, in accordance with the denser medium in which they live; and one curious fish, the Surinam sprat, is stated to have the upper part of the lens suited for aerial, and the lower part for aquatic vision.

Mr. Bateson[FI] has made some interesting observations on the sense of sight in fishes. He finds that in the great majority of fishes the shape and size of the pupil do not alter materially in accordance with the intensity of the light. The chief exceptions are among the Elasmobranchs (dog-fishes and skates). In the torpedo the lower limb of the iris rises so as almost to close the pupil, leaving a horizontal slit at the upper part of the eye. In the rough dog-fish, the angel-fish, and the nurse-hound, the pupil closes by day, forming merely an oblique slit. In the skate a fern-like process descends from the upper limb of the iris. The contraction in these cases does not seem to take place rapidly as in land vertebrates, but slowly and gradually.

Among diurnal fishes belonging to the group of the bony fishes (Teleosteans), the turbot, the brill, and the weever have a semicircular flap from the upper edge of the iris, which partially covers the pupil by day, but is almost wholly retracted at night.

None of the fishes observed by Mr. Bateson appears to distinguish food (worms) at a greater horizontal distance than about four feet, and for most of them the vertical limit seemed to be about three feet; but the plaice at the bottom of the tank perceived worms when at the surface of the water, being about five feet above them. Most of them exhibited little power of seeing an object below them. But though the distance of clear vision seems to be so short for small objects in the water, many of these fish (plaice, mullet, bream) notice a man on the other side of the room, distant about fifteen feet from the window of the tank. The sight of some fishes, such as the wrasses (Labridæ), is admirably adapted for vision at very close quarters. "I have often seen," says Mr. Bateson, "a large wrasse search the sand for shrimps, turning sideways, and looking with either eye independently, like a chamæleon. Its vision is so good that it can see a shrimp with certainty when the whole body is buried in grey sand excepting the antennæ and antenna-plates. It should be borne in mind that, if the sand be fine, a shrimp will bury itself absolutely, digging with its swimmerets, kicking the sand forwards with its chelæ, finally raking the sand over its back, and gently levelling it with its antennæ; but if the least bit be exposed, the wrasses will find it in spite of its protective coloration."