Appealing even more strongly to the popular imagination, though probably not of deeper biological significance, is the behaviour of plants in relation to the essential process of fertilization. Only two examples can here be cited. _Valisneria spiralis_ is an aquatic plant, with long submerged strap-like leaves, which grows in still water in Southern Europe. The female flower is enclosed in two translucent bracts, which form a protective bladder so long as the flower is beneath the surface of the water; but the flower-stalk continues to grow until the flower reaches the surface, when it becomes freely exposed by the splitting of the bracts. There are three boat-shaped sepals, which act as floats; three quite minute petals; and three large fringed stigmas, which project over the abortive petals in the space between the boat-like sepals. The flower is now ready for fertilization. The male flowers, which are developed on different individuals from those which produce the female flowers, grow in bunches beneath an investing bladder. The stalk does not elongate, so that the bladder never rises far above the bottom, and remains completely submerged. Here the bladder bursts, and the male flowers, with short stalks, are detached. Each has three sepals, which enclose and protect the stamens. The separated flower now ascends to the surface, the sepals open and form three hollow boats, by means of which the flower floats freely, while the two functional stamens project upwards and somewhat obliquely into the air, exposing the large sticky pollen-cells. Blown hither and thither by the wind, these little flower-boats “accumulate in the neighbourhood of fixed bodies, especially in their recesses, where they rest like ships in harbour. When the little craft happen to get stranded in the recesses of a female Valisneria flower, they adhere to the tri-lobed stigma, and some of the pollen-cells are sure to be left sticking to the fringes on the margins of the stigmatic surface.”[9] This is a good example of purely organic behaviour admirably adapted to secure a definite and important biological end. Few will be likely to contend that it is even accompanied by, still less under the guidance of, any conscious foresight on the part of the plant. And the lesson it should teach is that, in the study of organic behaviour, adaptation to the conditions of existence is not necessarily the outcome of conscious guidance.