148 Scientific Proceedings, Royal Dublin Society. 
These remarks I noted down roughly while at Linthal this 
summer, but quite recently I read in “Natural Science” for 
December, 1892, vol. 1., p. 730, the following note :— 
“ Tate Flowering Plants.— While we write, the ivy is in flower, 
and bees, wasps, and flies are jostling each other and struggling 
to find standing-room on the sweet-smelling plant. How great 
must be the advantage obtained by this plant through its 
exceptional habit of flowering in the late autumn, and ripening 
its fruit in the spring. To anyone who has watched the struggle 
to approach the ivy-blossom at a time when nearly all other 
plants are bare, it is evident that as far as transport of pollen and 
cross-fertilization go, the plant could not flower at a more suitable 
time. The season is so late that most other plants are out of 
flower, but yet it is not too late for many insects to be brought 
out by each sunny day, and each insect, judging by its behaviour, 
must be exceptionally hungry. 
‘Not only has the ivy the world to itself during its flowering 
season, but it delays to ripen its seed till the spring, a time when 
most other plants have shed their seed, and most edible fruits 
have been picked by the birds. Thus birds wanting fruit in tke 
spring can obtain little but ivy, and how they appreciate the ivy 
berry is evident by the purple stains everywhere visible within a 
short distance of the bush.” 
These remarks suggest that the ivy adopts the converse atti- 
tude towards its fertilizers to that forced upon the alpine flower. 
The ivy bloom is small and inconspicuous, but then it has the 
season to itself, and its unobservability is no disadvantage, 7. e. if 
one plant was more conspicuous than its neighbours, it would not 
have any decided advantage where the fertilizer is so abundant 
and otherwise unprovided for. Its dark-green berries in spring, 
which I would describe as very inconspicuous, have a similar 
advantage in relation to the necessities of bird life. 
The experiments of M. C. Flahault must be noticed. This 
naturalist grew seeds of coloured flowers which had ripened in 
Paris; part in Upsala, and part in Paris; and seed which had 
ripened in Upsala part at Paris, and part at Upsala. The flowers | 
opening in the more northern city were in most cases the brighter.’ 
1 Quoted by De Varigny, ‘Experimental Evolution,” p. 56. 
