V.

THE COLOURS OF ANIMALS AND SEXUAL SELECTION.

General Phenomena of Colour in the Organic World—Theory of Heat and Light as producing Colour—Changes of Colour in Animals produced by Coloured Light—Classification of Organic Colours—Protective Colour—Warning Colours—Sexual Colours—Typical Colours—The Nature of Colour—Colour a normal product of Organization—Theory of Protective Colours—Theory of Warning Colours—Theory of Sexual Colours—Colour as a means of Recognition—Colour proportionate to Integumentary Development—Selection by Females not a cause of Colour—Probable use of the Horns of Beetles—Cause of the greater brilliancy of some Female Insects—Theory of display of Ornaments by Males—Natural Selection as neutralizing Sexual Selection—Theory of Typical Colours—Colour-development as illustrated by Humming-birds—Local causes of Colour-development—Summary on Colour-development in Animals.

There is probably no one quality of natural objects from which we derive so much pure and intellectual enjoyment as from their colours. The heavenly blue of the firmament, the glowing tints of sunset, the exquisite purity of the snowy mountains, and the endless shades of green presented by the verdure-clad surface of the earth, are a never-failing source of pleasure to all who enjoy the inestimable gift of sight. Yet these constitute, as it were, but the frame and background of a marvellous and ever-changing picture. In contrast with these broad and soothing tints, we have presented to us in the vegetable and animal worlds, an infinite variety of objects adorned with the most beautiful and most varied hues. Flowers, insects and birds, are the organisms most generally ornamented in this way; and their symmetry of form, their variety of structure, and the lavish abundance with which they clothe and enliven the earth, cause them to be objects of universal admiration. The relation of this wealth of colour to our mental and moral nature is indisputable. The child and the savage alike admire the gay tints of flower, bird, and insect; while to many of us their contemplation brings a solace and enjoyment which is both intellectually, and morally beneficial. It can then hardly excite surprise that this relation was long thought to afford a sufficient explanation of the phenomena of colour in nature; and although the fact that—

“Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air—”

might seem to throw some doubt on the sufficiency of the explanation, the answer was easy,—that in the progress of discovery, man would, sooner or later, find out and enjoy every beauty that the hidden recesses of the earth have in store for him. This theory received great support, from the difficulty of conceiving any other use or meaning in the colours with which so many natural objects are adorned. Why should the homely gorse be clothed in golden raiment, and the prickly cactus be adorned with crimson bells? Why should our fields be gay with buttercups, and the heather-clad mountains be clad in purple robes? Why should every land produce its own peculiar floral gems, and the alpine rocks glow with beauty, if not for the contemplation and enjoyment of man? What could be the use to the butterfly of its gaily-painted wings, or to the humming-bird of its jewelled breast, except to add the final touches to a world-picture, calculated at once to please and to refine mankind? And even now, with all our recently-acquired knowledge of this subject, who shall say that these old-world views were not intrinsically and fundamentally sound; and that, although we now know that colour has “uses” in nature that we little dreamt of, yet the relation of those colours—or rather of the various rays of light—to our senses and emotions, may not be another, and perhaps more important use which they subserve in the great system of the universe?

We now propose to lay before our readers a general account of the more recent discoveries on this interesting subject; and in doing so, it will be necessary first to give an outline of the more important facts as to the colours of organised beings; then to point out the cases in which it has been shown that colour is of use; and lastly, to endeavour to throw some light on its nature, and on the general laws of its development.

Among naturalists, colour was long thought to be of little import, and to be quite untrustworthy as a specific character. The numerous cases of variability of colour led to this view. The occurrence of white blackbirds, white peacocks, and black leopards; of white blue-bells, and of white, blue, or pink milkworts, led to the belief that colour was essentially unstable, that it could therefore be of little or no importance, and belonged to quite a different class of characters from form or structure. But it now begins to be perceived that these cases, though tolerably numerous, are, after all, exceptional; and that colour, as a rule, is a constant character. The great majority of species, both of animals and plants, are each distinguished by peculiar tints which vary very little, while the minutest markings are often constant in thousands or millions of individuals. All our field buttercups are invariably yellow, and our poppies red; while many of our butterflies and birds resemble each other in every spot and streak of colour through thousands of individuals. We also find that colour is constant in whole genera and other groups of species. The Genistas are all yellow, the Erythrinas all red; many genera of Carabidæ are entirely black; whole families of birds—as the Dendrocolaptidæ—are brown; while among butterflies the numerous species of Lycæna are all more or less blue, those of Pontia white, and those of Callidryas yellow. An extensive survey of the organic world thus leads us to the conclusion that colour is by no means so unimportant or inconstant a character as at first sight it appears to be; and the more we examine it the more convinced we shall become that it must serve some purpose in nature, and that, besides charming us by its diversity and beauty, it must be well worthy of our attentive study, and have many secrets to unfold to us.

Theory of Heat and Light as producing Colour.—In commencing our study of the great mass of facts relating to the colours of the organic world, it will be necessary to consider first, how far the chief theories already proposed will account for them. One of the most obvious and most popular of these theories, and one which is still held, in part at least, by many eminent naturalists, is—that colour is due to some direct action of the heat and light of the sun—thus at once accounting for the great number of brilliant birds, insects, and flowers, which are found between the tropics.

But before proceeding to discuss this supposed explanation of the colours of living things we must ask the preliminary question,—whether it is really the fact that colour is more developed in tropical than in temperate climates, in proportion to the whole number of species; and even if we find this to be so, we have to inquire whether there are not so many and such striking exceptions to the rule, as to indicate some other causes at work than the direct influence of solar light and heat. As this is a most important branch of the inquiry, we must go into it somewhat fully.

It is undoubtedly the case that there are an immensely greater number of richly-coloured birds and insects in tropical than in temperate and cold countries, but it is by no means so certain that the proportion of coloured to obscure species is much or any greater. Naturalists and collectors well know that the majority of tropical birds are dull-coloured; and there are whole families, comprising hundreds of species, not one of which exhibits a particle of bright colour. Such are, for example, the Timaliidæ, or babbling thrushes of the Eastern, and the Dendrocolaptidæ, or tree-creepers of the Western hemispheres. Again, many groups of birds, which are universally distributed, are no more adorned with colour in the tropical than in the temperate zones; such are the thrushes, wrens, goatsuckers, hawks, grouse, plovers, and snipe; and if tropical light and heat have any direct colouring effect, it is certainly most extraordinary that in groups so varied in form, structure, and habits as those just mentioned, the tropical should be in no wise distinguished in this respect, from the temperate species.

It is true that brilliant tropical birds mostly belong to groups which are wholly tropical—as the chatterers, toucans, trogons, and pittas; but as there are perhaps an equal number of groups which are wholly dull-coloured, while others contain dull and bright-coloured species in nearly equal proportions, the evidence is by no means strong that tropical light and heat have anything to do with the matter. But there are other groups in which the cold and temperate zones produce finer-coloured species than the tropics. Thus the arctic ducks and divers are handsomer than those of the tropical zone; while the king-duck of temperate America and the mandarin-duck of North China are the most beautifully coloured of the whole family. In the pheasant family we have the gorgeous gold and silver pheasants in North China and Mongolia; and the superb Impeyan pheasant in the temperate North-Western Himalayas, as against the peacock and fire-backed pheasants of tropical Asia. Then we have the curious fact that most of the bright-coloured birds of the tropics are denizens of the forests, where they are shaded from the direct light of the sun, and that they abound near the equator where cloudy skies are very prevalent; while, on the other hand, places where light and heat are at a maximum have often dull-coloured birds. Such are the Sahara and other deserts, where almost all the living things are sand-coloured; but the most curious case is that of the Galapagos islands, situated under the equator, and not far from South America where the most gorgeous colours abound, but which are yet characterized by prevailing dull and sombre tints in birds, insects, and flowers, so that they reminded Mr. Darwin of the cold and barren plains of Patagonia rather than of any tropical country. Insects are wonderfully brilliant in tropical countries generally; and any one looking over a collection of South American or Malayan butterflies would scout the idea of their being no more gaily-coloured than the average of European species, and in this he would be undoubtedly right. But on examination we should find that all the more brilliantly-coloured groups were exclusively tropical, and that, where a genus has a wide range, there is little difference in coloration between the species of cold and warm countries. Thus the European Vanessides, including the beautiful “peacock,” “Camberwell beauty,” and “red admiral” butterflies, are quite up to the average of tropical colour in the same group; and the remark will equally apply to the little “blues” and “coppers;” while the alpine “apollo” butterflies have a delicate beauty that can hardly be surpassed. In other insects, which are less directly dependent on climate and vegetation, we find even greater anomalies. In the immense family of the Carabidæ or predaceous ground-beetles, the northern forms fully equal, if they do not surpass, all that the tropics can produce. Everywhere, too, in hot countries, there are thousands of obscure species of insects which, if they were all collected, would not improbably bring down the average of colour to much about the same level as that of temperate zones.

But it is when we come to the vegetable world that the greatest misconception on this subject prevails. In abundance and variety of floral colour the tropics are almost universally believed to be pre-eminent, not only absolutely, but relatively to the whole mass of vegetation and the total number of species. Twelve years of observation among the vegetation of the eastern and western tropics has, however, convinced me that this notion is entirely erroneous, and that, in proportion to the whole number of species of plants, those having gaily-coloured flowers are actually more abundant in the temperate zones than between the tropics. This will be found to be not so extravagant an assertion as it may at first appear, if we consider how many of the choicest adornments of our greenhouses and flower-shows are really temperate as opposed to tropical plants. The masses of colour produced by our Rhododendrons, Azaleas, and Camellias, our Pelargoniums, Calceolarias, and Cinerarias,—all strictly temperate plants—can certainly not be surpassed, if they can be equalled, by any productions of the tropics.

It may be objected that most of the plants named are choice cultivated varieties, far surpassing in colour the original stock, while the tropical plants are mostly unvaried wild species. But this does not really much affect the question at issue. For our florists’ gorgeous varieties have all been produced under the influence of our cloudy skies, and with even a still further deficiency of light, owing to the necessity of protecting them under glass from our sudden changes of temperature; so that they are themselves an additional proof that tropical light and heat are not needed for the production of intense and varied colour. Another important consideration is, that these cultivated varieties in many cases displace a number of wild species which are hardly, if at all, cultivated. Thus there are scores of species of wild hollyhocks varying in colour almost as much as the cultivated varieties, and the same may be said of the pentstemons, rhododendrons, and many other flowers; and if these were all brought together in well-grown specimens, they would produce a grand effect. But it is far easier, and more profitable for our nurserymen to grow varieties of one or two species, which all require a similar culture, rather than fifty distinct species, most of which would require special treatment; the result being that the varied beauty of the temperate flora is even now hardly known, except to botanists and to a few amateurs.

But we may go further, and say that the hardy plants of our cold temperate zone equal, if they do not surpass, the productions of the tropics. Let us only remember such gorgeous tribes of flowers as the Roses, Pæonies, Hollyhocks, and Antirrhinums; the Laburnum, Wistaria, and Lilac; the Lilies, Irises, and Tulips; the Hyacinths, Anemones, Gentians, and Poppies; and even our humble Gorse, Broom, and Heather; and we may defy any tropical country to produce masses of floral colour in greater abundance and variety. It may be true that individual tropical shrubs and flowers do surpass everything in the rest of the world; but that is to be expected, because the tropical zone comprises a much greater land area than the two temperate zones, while, owing to its more favourable climate, it produces a still larger proportion of species of plants, and a greater number of peculiar natural orders.

Direct observation in tropical forests, plains, and mountains, fully supports this view. Occasionally we are startled by some gorgeous mass of colour, but as a rule we gaze upon an endless expanse of green foliage, only here and there enlivened by not very conspicuous flowers. Even the orchids, whose superb blossoms adorn our stoves, form no exception to this rule. It is only in favoured spots that we find them in abundance; the species with small and inconspicuous flowers greatly preponderate; and the flowering season of each kind being of short duration, they rarely produce any marked effect of colour amid the vast masses of foliage which surround them. An experienced collector in the Eastern tropics once told me, that although a single mountain in Java had produced three hundred species of Orchideæ, only about two per cent. of the whole were sufficiently ornamental or showy to be worth sending home as a commercial speculation. The Alpine meadows and rock-slopes, the open plains of the Cape of Good Hope or of Australia, and the flower-prairies of North America, offer an amount and variety of floral colour which can certainly not be surpassed, even if it can be equalled, between the tropics.

It appears, therefore, that we may dismiss the theory that the development of colour in nature is directly dependent on, and in any way proportioned to the amount of solar heat and light, as entirely unsupported by facts. Strange to say, however, there are some rare and little-known phenomena which prove, that in exceptional cases, light does directly affect the colours of natural objects; and it will be as well to consider these before passing on to other matters.

Changes of Colour in Animals produced by Coloured Light.—A few years ago Mr. T. W. Wood called attention to the curious changes in the colour of the chrysalis of the small cabbage-butterfly (Pontia rapæ) when the caterpillars, just before their change, were confined in boxes lined with different tints. Thus in black boxes they were very dark, in white boxes nearly white; and he further showed that similar changes occurred in a state of nature, chrysalises fixed against a white-washed, wall being nearly white; against a red brick wall, reddish; against a pitched paling, nearly black. It has also been observed that the cocoon of the emperor moth is either white or brown, according to the colours surrounding it. But the most extraordinary example of this kind of change is that furnished by the chrysalis of an African butterfly (Papilio Nireus), observed at the Cape by Mrs. Barber, and described (with a coloured plate) in the Transactions of the Entomological Society, 1874, p. 519.

This caterpillar feeds upon the orange tree, and also upon a forest-tree (Vepris lanceolata) which has a lighter green leaf; and its colour corresponds with that of the leaves it feeds upon, being of a darker green when it feeds on the orange. The chrysalis is usually found suspended among the leafy twigs of its food-plant, or of some neighbouring tree, but it is probably often attached to larger branches; and Mrs. Barber has discovered that it has the property of acquiring the colour, more or less accurately, of any natural object it may be in contact with. A number of the caterpillars were placed in a case with a glass cover, one side of the case being formed by a red brick wall, the other sides being of yellowish wood. They were fed on orange leaves, and a branch of the bottle-brush tree (Banksia, sp.) was also placed in the case. When fully fed, some attached themselves to the orange twigs, others to the bottle-brush branch; and these all changed to green pupæ; but each corresponded exactly in tint to the leaves around it, the one being dark, the other a pale faded green. Another attached itself to the wood, and the pupa became of the same yellowish colour; while one fixed itself just where the wood and brick joined, and became one side red, the other side yellow! These remarkable changes would perhaps not have been credited had it not been for the previous observations of Mr. Wood; but the two support each other, and oblige us to accept them as actual phenomena. It is a kind of natural photography, the particular coloured rays to which the fresh pupa is exposed in its soft, semi-transparent condition, effecting such a chemical change in the organic juices as to produce the same tint in the hardened skin. It is interesting however to note, that the range of colour that can be acquired seems to be limited to those of natural objects to which the pupa is likely to be attached; for when Mrs. Barber surrounded one of the caterpillars with a piece of scarlet cloth no change of colour at all was produced, the pupa being of the usual green tint, but the small red spots with which it is marked were brighter than usual.

Many other cases are known among insects in which the same species acquires a different tint according to its surroundings; this being particularly marked in some South African locusts, which correspond with the colour of the soil wherever they are found. There are also many caterpillars which feed on two or more plants, and which vary in colour accordingly. A number of such changes are quoted by Mr. R. Meldola, in a paper on Variable Protective Colouring in Insects (Proceedings of the Zoological Society of London, 1873, p. 153), and some of them may perhaps be due to a photographic action of the reflected light. In other cases, however, it has been shown that green chlorophyll remains unchanged in the tissues of leaf-eating insects, and being discernible through the transparent integument, produces the same colour as that of the food plant.

In the case of all these insects, as well as in the great majority of cases in which a change of colour occurs in animals, the action is quite involuntary; but among some of the higher animals the colour of the integument can be modified at the will of the individual, or at all events by a reflex action dependent on sensation. The most remarkable case of this kind occurs with the chameleon, which has the power of changing its colour from dull white to a variety of tints. This singular power has been traced to two layers of movable pigment-cells deeply seated in the skin, but capable of being brought near to the surface. The pigment-layers are bluish and yellowish, and by the pressure of suitable muscles these can be forced upwards either together or separately. When no pressure is exerted the colour is dirty white, which changes to various tints of bluish, green, yellow, or brown, as more or less of either pigment is forced up and rendered visible. The animal is excessively sluggish and defenceless, and its power of changing its colour so as to harmonise with surrounding objects is essential to its safety. Here too, as with the pupa of Papilio Nireus, colours, such as scarlet or blue, which do not occur in the immediate environment of the animal, cannot be produced. Somewhat similar changes of colour occur in some prawns and flat-fish, according to the colour of the bottom on which they rest. This is very striking in the chameleon shrimp (Mysis Chamæleon), which is grey when on sand, but brown or green when among sea-weed of these two colours. Experiment shows, however, that when blinded the change does not occur; so that here too we probably have a voluntary or reflex sense-action.

These peculiar powers of change of colour and adaptation are, however, rare and quite exceptional. As a rule, there is no direct connection between the colours of organisms and the kind of light to which they are usually exposed. This is well seen in most fishes and in such marine animals as porpoises, whose backs are always dark, although this part is exposed to the blue and white light of the sky and clouds, while their bellies are very generally white, although these are constantly subjected to the deep blue or dusky green light from the bottom. It is evident, however, that these two tints have been acquired for concealment and protection. Looking down on the dark back of a fish it is almost invisible, while, to an enemy looking up from below, the light under-surface would be equally invisible against the light of the clouds and sky. Again, the gorgeous colours of the butterflies which inhabit the depths of tropical forests bear no relation to the kind of light that falls upon them, coming as it does almost wholly from green foliage, dark brown soil, or blue sky; and the bright underwings of many moths, which are only exposed at night, contrast remarkably with the sombre tints of the upper wings, which are more or less exposed to the various colours of surrounding nature.

Classification of Organic Colours.—We find, then, that neither the general influence of solar light and heat, nor the special action of variously tinted rays, are adequate causes for the wonderful variety, intensity, and complexity of the colours that everywhere meet us in the animal and vegetable worlds. Let us therefore take a wider view of these colours, grouping them into classes determined by what we know of their actual uses or special relations to the habits of their possessors. This, which may be termed the functional and biological classification of the colours of living organisms, seems to be best expressed by a division into five groups, as follows:—

Animals. { 1. Protective colours.
2. Warning colours. { a. Of creatures specially protected.
b. Of defenceless creatures, mimicking a.
3. Sexual colours.
4. Typical colours.
Plants. 5. Attractive colours.

It is now proposed, firstly, to point out the nature of the phenomena presented under each of these heads; then to explain the general laws of the production of colour in nature; and, lastly, to show how far the varied phenomena of animal coloration can be explained by means of those laws, acting in conjunction with the laws of evolution and natural selection.

Protective Colours.—The nature of the two first groups, Protective and Warning colours, has been so fully detailed and illustrated in my chapter on “Mimicry and other Protective Resemblances among Animals,” (Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection, p. 45), that very little need be added here except a few words of general explanation. Protective colours are exceedingly prevalent in nature, comprising those of all the white arctic animals, the sandy-coloured desert forms, and the green birds and insects of tropical forests. It also comprises thousands of cases of special resemblance—of birds to the surroundings of their nests, and especially of insects to the bark, leaves, flowers, or soil, on or amid which they dwell. Mammalia, fishes, and reptiles, as well as mollusca and other marine invertebrates, present similar phenomena; and the more the habits of animals are investigated, the more numerous are found to be the cases in which their colours tend to conceal them, either from their enemies or from the creatures they prey upon. One of the last-observed and most curious of these protective resemblances has been communicated to me by Sir Charles Dilke. He was shown in Java a pink-coloured Mantis which, when at rest, exactly resembled a pink orchis-flower. The mantis is a carnivorous insect which lies in wait for its prey; and, by its resemblance to a flower, the insects it feeds on would be actually attracted towards it. This one is said to feed especially on butterflies, so that it is really a living trap, and forms its own bait!

All who have observed animals, and especially insects, in their native haunts and attitudes, can understand how it is that an insect which in a cabinet looks exceedingly conspicuous, may yet when alive, in its peculiar attitude of repose and with its habitual surroundings, be perfectly well concealed. We can hardly ever tell by the mere inspection of an animal, whether its colours are protective or not. No one would imagine the exquisitely beautiful caterpillar of the emperor-moth, which is green with pink star-like spots, to be protectively coloured; yet, when feeding on the heather, it so harmonises with the foliage and flowers as to be almost invisible. Every day fresh cases of protective colouring are being discovered, even in our own country; and it is becoming more and more evident that the need of protection has played a very important part in determining the actual coloration of animals.

Warning Colours.—The second class—the warning colours—are exceedingly interesting, because the object and effect of these is, not to conceal the object, but to make it conspicuous. To these creatures it is useful to be seen and recognized; the reason being that they have a means of defence which, if known, will prevent their enemies from attacking them, though it is generally not sufficient to save their lives if they are actually attacked. The best examples of these specially protected creatures consist of two extensive families of butterflies, the Danaidæ and Acræidæ, comprising many hundreds of species inhabiting the tropics of all parts of the world. These insects are generally large, are all conspicuously and often most gorgeously coloured, presenting almost every conceivable tint and pattern; they all fly slowly, and they never attempt to conceal themselves; yet no bird, spider, lizard, or monkey (all of which eat other butterflies) ever touches them. The reason simply is that they are not fit to eat, their juices having a powerful odour and taste that is absolutely disgusting to all these animals. Now we see the reason of their showy colours and slow flight. It is good for them to be seen and recognised, for then they are never molested; but if they did not differ in form and colouring from other butterflies, or if they flew so quickly that their peculiarities could not be easily noticed, they would be captured, and though not eaten would be maimed or killed.

As soon as the cause of the peculiarities of these butterflies was clearly recognised, it was seen that the same explanation applied to many other groups of animals. Thus, bees and wasps and other stinging insects are showily and distinctively coloured; many soft and apparently defenceless beetles, and many gay-coloured moths, were found to be as nauseous as the above-named butterflies; other beetles, whose hard and glossy coats of mail render them unpalatable to insect-eating birds, are also sometimes showily coloured; and the same rule was found to apply to caterpillars, all the brown and green (or protectively coloured species) being greedily eaten by birds, while showy kinds which never hide themselves—like those of the magpie-, mullein-, and burnet-moths—were utterly refused by insectivorous birds, lizards, frogs, and spiders. (Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection, p. 117.) Some few analogous examples are found among vertebrate animals. I will only mention here a very interesting case not given in my former work. In his delightful book entitled, The Naturalist in Nicaragua, Mr. Belt tells us that there is in that country a frog which is very abundant; which hops about in the daytime; which never hides himself; and which is gorgeously coloured with red and blue. Now frogs are usually green, brown, or earth-coloured; feed mostly at night; and are all eaten by snakes and birds. Having full faith in the theory of protective and warning colours, to which he had himself contributed some valuable facts and observations, Mr. Belt felt convinced that this frog must be uneatable. He therefore took one home, and threw it to his ducks and fowls; but all refused to touch it except one young duck, which took the frog in its mouth, but dropped it directly, and went about jerking its head as if trying to get rid of something nasty. Here the uneatableness of the frog was predicted from its colours and habits, and we can have no more convincing proof of the truth of a theory than such previsions.

The universal avoidance by carnivorous animals of all these specially protected groups, which are thus entirely free from the constant persecution suffered by other creatures not so protected, would evidently render it advantageous for any of these latter which were subjected to extreme persecution to be mistaken for the former; and for this purpose it would be necessary that they should have the same colours, form, and habits. Now, strange to say, wherever there is a large group of directly-protected forms (division a of animals with warning colours), there are sure to be found a few otherwise defenceless creatures which resemble them externally so as to be mistaken for them, and which thus gain protection, as it were, on false pretences (division b of animals with warning colours). This is what is called “mimicry,” and it has already been very fully treated of by Mr. Bates (its discoverer), by myself, by Mr. Trimen, and others. Here it is only necessary to state that the uneatable Danaidæ and Acræidæ are accompanied by a few species of other groups of butterflies (Leptalidæ, Papilios, Diademas, and Moths) which are all really eatable, but which escape attack by their close resemblance to some species of the uneatable groups found in the same locality. In like manner there are a few eatable beetles which exactly resemble species of uneatable groups; and others, which are soft, imitate those which are uneatable through their hardness. For the same reason wasps are imitated by moths, and ants by beetles; and even poisonous snakes are mimicked by harmless snakes, and dangerous hawks by defenceless cuckoos. How these curious imitations have been brought about, and the laws which govern them, have been discussed in the work already referred to.

Sexual Colours.—The third class comprises all cases in which the colours of the two sexes differ. This difference is very general, and varies greatly in amount, from a slight divergence of tint up to a radical change of coloration. Differences of this kind are found among all classes of animals in which the sexes are separated, but they are much more frequent in some groups than in others. In mammalia, reptiles, and fishes, they are comparatively rare, and not great in amount, whereas among birds they are very frequent and very largely developed. So among insects, they are abundant in butterflies, while they are comparatively uncommon in beetles, wasps, and hemiptera.

The phenomena of sexual variations of colour, as well as of colour generally, are wonderfully similar in the two analogous yet totally unrelated groups of birds and butterflies; and as they both offer ample materials, we shall confine our study of the subject chiefly to them. The most common case of difference of colour between the sexes, is for the male to have the same general hue as the females, but deeper and more intensified; as in many thrushes, finches, and hawks; and among butterflies in the majority of our British species. In cases where the male is smaller the intensification of colour is especially well pronounced; as in many of the hawks and falcons, and in most butterflies and moths in which the coloration does not materially differ. In another extensive series we have spots or patches of vivid colour in the male, which are represented in the female by far less brilliant tints or are altogether wanting; as exemplified in the gold-crest warbler, the green woodpecker, and most of the orange-tip butterflies (Anthocharis). Proceeding with our survey, we find greater and greater differences of colour in the sexes, till we arrive at such extreme cases as some of the pheasants, the chatterers, tanagers, and birds-of-paradise, in which the male is adorned with the most gorgeous and vivid colours, while the female is usually dull brown, or olive green, and often shows no approximation whatever to the varied tints of her partner. Similar phenomena occur among butterflies; and in both these groups there are also a considerable number of cases in which both sexes are highly coloured in a different way. Thus many woodpeckers have the head in the male red, in the female yellow; while some parrots have red spots in the male, replaced by blue in the female, as in Psittacula diopthalma. In many South American Papilios, green spots on the male are represented by red on the female; and in several species of the genus Epicalia, orange bands in the male are replaced by blue in the female, a similar change of colour to that in the small parrot above referred to. For fuller details of the varieties of sexual coloration we refer our readers to Mr. Darwin’s Descent of Man, chapters x. to xviii., and to chapters iii., iv. and vii. of my Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection.

Typical Colours.—The fourth group—of Typically-coloured animals—includes all species which are brilliantly or conspicuously coloured in both sexes, and for whose particular colours we can assign no function or use. It comprises an immense number of showy birds, such as Kingfishers, Barbets, Toucans, Lories, Tits, and Starlings; among insects most of the largest and handsomest butterflies, innumerable bright-coloured beetles, locusts, dragon-flies, and hymenoptera; a few mammalia, as the zebras; a great number of marine fishes; thousands of striped and spotted caterpillars; and abundance of mollusca, star-fish, and other marine animals. Among these we have included some which, like the gaudy caterpillars, have warning colours; but as that theory does not explain the particular colours or the varied patterns with which they are adorned, it is best to include them also in this class. It is a suggestive fact, that all the brightly-coloured birds mentioned above build in holes or form covered nests, so that the females do not need that protection during the breeding season which I believe to be one of the chief causes of the dull colour of female birds when their partners are gaily coloured. This subject is fully argued in my Contributions, &c., chapter vii.

As the colours of plants and flowers are very different from those of animals both in their distribution and functions, it will be well now to consider how the general facts of colour here sketched out can be explained. We have first to inquire what is colour, and how it is produced; what is known of the causes of change of colour; and what theory best accords with the whole assemblage of facts.

The Nature of Colour.—The sensation of colour is caused by vibrations or undulations of the ethereal medium of different lengths and velocities. The whole body of vibrations caused by the sun is termed radiation, or, more commonly, rays; and consists of sets of waves which vary considerably in their dimensions and rate of recurrence, but of which the middle portion only is capable of exciting in us sensations of light and colour. Beginning with the largest waves, which recur at the longest intervals, we have first those which produce heat-sensations only; as they get smaller and recur quicker, we perceive a dull red colour; and as the waves increase in rapidity and diminish in size, we get successively sensations of orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, all fading imperceptibly into each other. Then come more invisible rays, of shorter wave-length and quicker recurrence, which produce, solely or chiefly, chemical effects. The red rays, which first become visible, have been ascertained to recur at the rate of 458 millions of millions of times in a second, the length of each wave being ¹⁄₃₆₉₀₀th of an inch; while the violet rays, which last remain visible, recur 727 millions of millions of times per second, and have a wave-length of ¹⁄₆₄₅₁₆th of an inch. Although the waves recur at different rates, they are all propagated through the ether with the same velocity (192,000 miles per second); just as different musical sounds, which are produced by waves of air of different lengths and rates of recurrence, travel at the same speed, so that a tune played several hundred yards off reaches the ear in correct time. There are, therefore, an almost infinite number of different colour-producing undulations, and these may be combined in an almost infinite variety of ways, so as to excite in us the sensation of all the varied colours and tints we are capable of perceiving. When all the different kinds of rays reach us in the proportion in which they exist in the light of the sun, they produce the sensation of white. If the rays which excite the sensation of any one colour are prevented from reaching us, the remaining rays in combination produce a sensation of colour often very far removed from white. Thus green rays being abstracted leave purple light; blue, orange-red light; violet, yellowish-green light, and so on. These pairs are termed complementary colours. And if portions of differently coloured lights are abstracted in various degrees, we have produced all those infinite gradations of colours, and all those varied tints and hues which are of such use to us in distinguishing external objects, and which form one of the great charms of our existence. Primary colours would therefore be as numerous as the different wave-lengths of the visible radiations, if we could appreciate all their differences; while secondary or compound colours, caused by the simultaneous action of any combination of rays of different wave-lengths, must be still more numerous.

In order to account for the fact that all colours appear to us to be produced by combinations of three primary colours—red, green, and violet—it is believed that we have three sets of nerve-fibres in the retina, each of which is capable of being excited by all rays, but that one set is excited most by the larger or red waves, another by the medium or green waves, and the third set chiefly by the violet or smallest waves of light; and when all three sets are excited together in proper proportions we see white. This view is supported by the phenomena of colour-blindness, which are explicable on the theory that one of these sets of nerve-fibres (usually that adapted to perceive red) has lost its sensibility, causing all colours to appear as if the red rays were abstracted from them.

It is a property of these various radiations, that they are unequally refracted or bent in passing obliquely through transparent bodies, the longer waves being least refracted, the shorter most. Hence it becomes possible to analyse white or any other light into its component rays. A small ray of sunlight, for example, which would produce a round white spot on a wall, if passed through a prism is lengthened out into a band of coloured light, exactly corresponding to the colours of the rainbow. Any one colour can thus be isolated and separately examined; and by means of reflecting mirrors the separate colours can be again compounded in various ways, and the resulting colours observed. This band of coloured light is called a spectrum, and the instrument by which the spectra of various kinds of light are examined is called a spectroscope. This branch of the subject has, however, no direct bearing on the mode in which the colours of living things are produced, and it has only been alluded to in order to complete our sketch of the nature of colour.

The colours which we perceive in material substances are produced either by the absorption or by the interference of some of the rays which form white light. Pigmental or absorption-colours are the most frequent, comprising all the opaque tints of flowers and insects, and all the colours of dyes and pigments. They are caused by rays of certain wave-lengths being absorbed, while the remaining rays are reflected and give rise to the sensation of colour. When all the colour-producing rays are reflected in due proportion, the colour of the object is white; when all are absorbed the colour is black. If blue rays only are absorbed the resulting colour is orange-red; and generally, whatever colour an object appears to us, it is because the complementary colours are absorbed by it. The reason why rays of only certain refrangibilities are reflected, and the rest of the incident light absorbed by each substance, is supposed to depend upon the molecular structure of the body. Chemical action almost always implies change of molecular structure, hence chemical action is the most potent cause of change of colour. Sometimes simple solution in water effects a marvellous change, as in the case of the well-known aniline dyes; the magenta and violet dyes exhibiting, when in the solid form, various shades of golden or bronzy metallic green.

Heat alone often produces change of colour without effecting any chemical change. Mr. Ackroyd has recently investigated this subject,[18] and has shown that a large number of bodies are changed by heat, returning to their normal colour when cooled, and that this change is almost always in the direction of the less refrangible rays or longer wave-lengths; and he connects the change with the molecular expansion caused by heat. As examples may be mentioned mercuric oxide, which is orange yellow, but which changes to orange, red, and brown when heated; chromic-oxide, which is green, and changes to yellow; cinnabar, which is scarlet, and changes to puce; and metaborate of copper, which is blue, and changes to green and greenish yellow.