There are, moreover, a large number of very striking adaptations in form and colour, for which no stimulus acting directly upon the organism can be found. Can we imagine that the green caterpillar[209], plant-bug, or grasshopper, sitting among green surroundings, is thus exposed to a stimulus which directly produces the green colour in the skin? Can the walking-stick insect, which resembles a brown twig, be subject to a transforming stimulus by sitting on such branches or by looking at them? Or again, if we consider the phenomena of mimicry, how can one species of butterfly, by flying about with another species, exercise upon the latter such an influence as to render it similar to the first in appearance? In many cases of mimicry, the mimicked and the mimicking species do not even live in the same place, as we see in the moths, flies, and beetles which resemble in appearance the much-dreaded wasps. The interpretation of adaptation is the weak part of Nägeli’s theory, and it is somewhat remarkable that so acute a thinker should not have perceived this himself. One very nearly gains the impression that Nägeli does not wish to understand the theory of natural selection. He says, for instance, in speaking of the mutual adaptation observable between the proboscis, the so-called ‘tongue’ of butterflies, and flowers with tubular corolla[210]:—‘Among the most remarkable and commonest adaptations observable in the forms of flowers, are the corollas with long tubes considered in relation to the long “tongues” of insects, which suck the nectar from the bottom of the long narrow tubes, and at the same time effect the cross-fertilization of the plant. Both these arrangements have been gradually developed to their present degree of complexity—the long-tubed corollas from those without tubes, and from those with short ones, the long “tongues” from short ones. Undoubtedly both have been developed at the same rate so that the length of both sets of structures has always remained the same.’