occasion. Most leaves make no regular sweeps; but when the stalks of a leaf-climbing species come into prolonged contact with any fitting extraneous body, they slowly incurve and make a turn around it, and then commonly thicken and harden until they attain a strength which may equal that of the stem itself. Here we have the faculty of movement to a definite end, upon external irritation, of the same nature with that displayed by Dionæa and Drosera, although slower for the most part than even in the latter. But the movement of the hour-hand of the clock is not different in nature or cause from that of the second-hand.

Finally-distribution of office being, on the whole, most advantageous and economical, and this, in the vegetable kingdom, being led up to by degrees-we reach, through numerous gradations, the highest style of climbing plants in the tendril-climber. A tendril, morphologically, is either a leaf or branch of stem, or a portion of one, specially organized for climbing. Some tendrils simply turn away from light, as do those of grape-vines, thus taking the direction in which some supporting object is likely to be encountered; most are indifferent to light; and many revolve in the manner of the summit of twining stems. As the stems which bear these highly-endowed tendrils in many cases themselves also revolve more or less, though they seldom twine, their reach is the more extensive; and to this endowment of automatic movement most tendrils add the other faculty, that of incurving and coiling upon prolonged touch, or even brief contact, in the highest degree. Some long tendrils, when in their best condition, revolve so rapidly that the sweeping

movement may be plainly seen; indeed, we have seen a quarter-circuit in a Passiflora sicyoides accomplished in less than a minute, and the half-circuit in ten minutes; but the other half (for a reason alluded to in the next paragraph) takes a much longer time. Then, as to the coiling upon contact, in the case first noticed in this country,' in the year 1858, which Mr. Darwin mentions as having led him into this investigation, the tendril of Sicyos was seen to coil within half a minute after a stroke with the hand, and to make a full turn or more within the next minute; furnishing ocular evidence that tendrils grasp and coil in virtue of sensitiveness to contact, and, one would suppose, negativing Sachs's recent hypothesis that all these movements are owing "to rapid growth on the side opposite to that which becomes concave”—a view to which Mr. Darwin objects, but not so strongly as he might. The tendril of this sort, on striking some fitting object, quickly curls round and firmly grasps it; then, after some hours, one side shortening or remaining short in proportion to the other, it coils into a spire, dragging the stem up to its support, and enabling the next tendril above to secure a readier hold.

In revolving tendrils perhaps the most wonderful adaptation is that by which they avoid attachment to, or winding themselves upon, the ascending summit of the stem that bears them. This they would inevitably do if they continued their sweep horizontally. But

1 [A. Gray, in "Proceedings of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences," vol. iv., p. 98; and American Journal of Science and the Arts, March, 1859, p. 278.]

when in its course it nears the parent stem the tendril moves slowly, as if to gather strength, then stiffens and rises into an erect position parallel with it, and so passes by the dangerous point; after which it comes. rapidly down to the horizontal position, in which it moves until it again approaches and again avoids the impending obstacle.

Climbing plants are distributed throughout almost all the natural orders. In some orders climbing is the rule, in most it is the exception, occurring only in certain genera. The tendency of stems to move in circuits upon which climbing more commonly depends, and out of which it is conceived to have been educed—is manifested incipiently by many a plant which does not climb. Of those that do there are all degrees, from the feeblest to the most efficient, from those which have no special adaptation to those which have exquisitely-endowed special organs for climbing. The conclusion reached is, that the power "is inherent, though undeveloped, in almost every plant;" "that climbing plants have utilized and perfected a widely-distributed and incipient capacity, which, as far as we can see, is of no service to ordinary plants."

Inherent powers and incipient manifestations, useless to their possessors but useful to their successorsthis, doubtless, is according to the order of Nature; but it seems to need something more than natural selection to account for it.

XII.

DURATION AND ORIGINATION OF RACE AND SPECIES.IMPORT OF SEXUAL REPRODUCTION.

I.

Do Varieties wear out, or tend to wear out?

(NEW YORK TRIBUNE, and AMERICAN JOURNAL OF SCIENCE AND THE ARTS, February, 1875.)

THIS question has been argued from time to time for more than half a century, and is far from being settled yet. Indeed, it is not to be settled either way so easily as is sometimes thought. The result of a prolonged and rather lively discussion of the topic about forty years ago in England, in which Lindley bore a leading part on the negative side, was, if we rightly remember, that the nays had the best of the argument. The deniers could fairly well explain away the facts adduced by the other side, and evade the force of the reasons then assigned to prove that varieties were bound to die out in the course of time. But if the case were fully re-argued now, it is by no means certain that the nays would win it. The most they could expect would be the Scotch verdict, "not proven." And this not because much, if any, additional evidence of the actual wearing out of any vari

ety has turned up since, but because a presumption has been raised under which the evidence would take a bias the other way. There is now in the minds of scientific men some reason to expect that certain varieties would die out in the long run, and this might have an important influence upon the interpretation of the facts. Curiously enough, however, the recent discussions to which our attention has been called seem, on both sides, to have overlooked this

But, first of all, the question needs to be more specifically stated. There are varieties and varieties. They may, some of them, disappear or deteriorate, but yet not wear out-not come to an end from any inherent cause. One might even say, the younger they are the less the chance of survival unless well cared for. They may be smothered out by the adverse force of superior numbers; they are even more likely to be bred out of existence by unprevented cross-fertilization, or to disappear from mere change of fashion. The question, however, is not so much about reversion to an ancestral state, or the falling off of a high-bred stock into an inferior condition. Of such cases it is enough to say that, when a variety or strain, of animal or vegetable, is led up to unusual fecundity or of size or product of any organ, for our good, and not for the good of the plant or animal itself, it can be kept so only by high feeding and exceptional care; and that with high feeding and artificial appliances comes vastly increased liability to disease, which may practically annihilate the race. But then the race, like the bursted boiler, could not be said to wear out, while if left to ordinary conditions, and allowed to degenerate back into a more