1. Water-Resources Engineering 3rd Edition Chin
Solutions Manual download
https://testbankfan.com/product/water-resources-engineering-3rd-
edition-chin-solutions-manual/
Visit testbankfan.com today to download the complete set of
test bank or solution manual
2. We have selected some products that you may be interested in
Click the link to download now or visit testbankfan.com
for more options!.
Water Resources Engineering 2nd Edition Chin Solutions
Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/water-resources-engineering-2nd-
edition-chin-solutions-manual/
Fluid Mechanics for Engineers 1st Edition Chin Solutions
Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/fluid-mechanics-for-engineers-1st-
edition-chin-solutions-manual/
Microwave Engineering 3rd Edition Pozar Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/microwave-engineering-3rd-edition-
pozar-solutions-manual/
Fundamentals of Human Resource Management 4th Edition Noe
Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/fundamentals-of-human-resource-
management-4th-edition-noe-solutions-manual/
3. Entrepreneurship Successfully Launching New Ventures 6th
Edition Barringer Test Bank
https://testbankfan.com/product/entrepreneurship-successfully-
launching-new-ventures-6th-edition-barringer-test-bank/
Intermediate Accounting Volume 2 Canadian 12th Edition
Kieso Test Bank
https://testbankfan.com/product/intermediate-accounting-
volume-2-canadian-12th-edition-kieso-test-bank/
Thermodynamics for Engineers SI Edition 1st Edition Kroos
Solutions Manual
https://testbankfan.com/product/thermodynamics-for-engineers-si-
edition-1st-edition-kroos-solutions-manual/
Macroeconomics 4th Edition Jones Test Bank
https://testbankfan.com/product/macroeconomics-4th-edition-jones-test-
bank/
Nursing Research 8th Edition Wood Test Bank
https://testbankfan.com/product/nursing-research-8th-edition-wood-
test-bank/
4. Contemporary Management 10th Edition Jones Test Bank
https://testbankfan.com/product/contemporary-management-10th-edition-
jones-test-bank/
6. ontogeny, the palæontological sequence in a distorted and
abbreviated form.
It is true that the evidence afforded by palæontology is very meagre.
The preservation of the remains of organisms in the stratified rocks
is a very haphazard process, and it depends for its success on a
series of conditions that are not always present. As the surface of
the earth becomes better known, our knowledge of the life of the
past will become fuller, but there can be little doubt that whole
series of organisms must have existed in the past, and that no
recognisable traces of these are known to us. There is also no doubt
that the sequences indicated by palæontology are very incomplete:
they are obscured and shortened by many conditions. The earlier
embryologists entertained hopes that the study of embryology would
reveal the direction of the evolutionary process in many groups of
animals: if the organism repeats in its ontogeny the series of stages
through which it passed in its phylogenetic development, then a
close study of the embryological process ought to disclose these
stages. Although these hopes have not been realised, there is yet
sufficient truth in the doctrine of recapitulation to enable us to state
that there is a rough parallelism between the palæontological and
embryological sequences.
We therefore state a plausible hypothesis when we assert that
different species may be related to each other in the same way that
the individuals of the same species are related, that is, by a tie of
blood-relationship; and that different genera, families, orders, and so
on are also so related. Morphological studies enable us to arrange
numbers of species in such a way that series, in each of which there
is an increasing specialisation of structure, are formed. Both
palæontology and embryology show, to some extent at least, that
these stages of ever-increasing specialisation of structure occurred
one after the other. Now, stated briefly and baldly as we have put it,
this argument may not appear to the general reader to possess
7. much force, but it is almost impossible to over-state the strength of
the appeal which it makes to the student of biology. To such a one a
belief in a process of transformism will appear to be inseparable
from a reasoned description of the facts of the science.
But it would be no more than a belief, not even a hypothesis, if we
did not attempt to verify it experimentally. It is merely logical
relationships that we establish, and the chronological succession of
forms of life, higher forms succeeding lower ones, does not itself do
more than suggest an evolutionary process. All that we have said is
compatible with a belief in a process of special creation. But if we
cling to such a belief, if we suppose that the organisms inhabiting
the earth, now and in the past, are the manifestations of a Creative
Thought, we must still accept the notion of logical and chronological
relationships between all these forms of life. If we permit ourselves
to speculate on the working of the Creative Thought, we seem to
recognise that the ideas of the different species must have
generated each other, and that the genesis of living things must
have occurred in some such order as is indicated by a scientific
hypothesis of transformism. An evolutionary process must have
occurred somewhere, but the kinships so established between
organisms would be logical and not material ones.
Science must not, of course, describe the mode of origin of species
in this way. So long as it investigates living things by the same
methods which it uses in the investigation of inorganic things, it
must hold that the concepts of physical science are also adequate
for the description of organic nature. It must assume that matter
and energy and natural law are given; and that, even in the
conditions of our world, life must have originated from lifeless
matter; must have shaped itself, and undergone the transformations
that are suggested by the results of biology. It must assume, in spite
of the formidable difficulties that the assumption encounters, that
cosmic physical processes are reversible and cyclical; and that
8. worlds and solar systems are born, evolve, and decay again. Every
stage in such a cosmic process, as well as every stage in the
evolution of living things, must have been inevitably determined by
the stages preceding it. Such a mechanistic explanation must
assume that a superhuman intellect, but still a finite intellect like our
own, such a calculator as that imagined by Laplace or Du Bois-
Reymond, would be able to deduce any state of the world, or
universal system, from any other state, by means of an immense
system of differential equations. It would be able, as Huxley says, to
calculate the fauna of Great Britain from a knowledge of the
properties of the primitive nebulosity with as much certainty as we
can say what will be the fate of a man’s breath on a frosty day. Such
a fine notion as that of an universal mathematics must ever remain
as the ideal towards which science strives to approximate.
Or we may suppose that a plan or design has been superposed on
nature, is immanent in matter and energy, and works itself out, so to
speak. Such a teleological explanation of inorganic and organic
evolution inevitably forces itself upon us if we reject the notion of
radical mechanism. We think of an universal system of matter and
energies as consisting of elements which, when assembled together,
interact in a certain way, and with results which are definite and
calculable. The assembling together of the elements of the system
would be the result of the previous phases of the system. That is
radical mechanism. But let us think of the elements of the system as
being differently assembled—thus involving the idea of an agency,
external to the system, which rearranges them—then the same
energies inherent in this system, as in that previously imagined, will
also work out by themselves. But the result will be different, and will
depend on the manner in which the elements were originally
arranged. That would be radical finalism.
Science must reject this notion as it rejects that of special creation,
since it introduces indeterminism into the evolutionary process. It
9. must regard the organism and its environment as a physico-chemical
system studied from without. It must avoid all attempts to acquire
an intuitive knowledge of the actions of the organism, for the latter,
and the things which environ it, are only bodies moving in nature. In
the systems studied by it time must be the independent variable,
and there must be a strict functionality between the parts of the
organism and the parts of the reacting environment, so that any
change in the one must necessarily be dependent on a change in the
other. Such a system and series of interactions is that which is
described in a mechanistic hypothesis of transformism.
All this is indeed suggested to ordinary and aided methods of
observation. The plant or animal acts upon, and is acted on by, the
environment, though it is usually the modification of the organism to
which we attend. A man’s face becomes reddened by wind and sun
and rain; manual labour roughens his hands and develops callosities;
in the summer he sweats and loses heat; in the winter the blood-
vessels of his skin contract and heat is economised. In the winter
months the fur of many animals becomes more luxuriant and may
change in colour. Fishes which inhabit lightly coloured sand are
lightly pigmented, but their skins become dark when they move on
to darkly coloured sea-bottoms; prawns which are brown when they
live on brown weed, become green when they are placed on green
weed. Birds migrate into warmer countries, and vice versa, when the
seasons change. Such are instances of the adaptations of the
morphology and functioning of organisms consequent on changes of
environment.
What is an adaptation? The term plays a great part in biological
speculation, but it is often used in a loose and inaccurate manner,
and not always in the same sense. It suggests that the organism is
contained by the environment, and that its form becomes adapted to
that of the latter, just as the metal which the ironfounder pours into
the mould takes the form of the cavity in the sand. “We see once
10. more how plastic is the organism in the grasp of its environment”—
such a quotation from morphological literature is perhaps a typical
one. Over and over again this passive change in the organism as the
result of the action of something rigid which presses upon it is what
is understood by an adaptation. No doubt the organism may be so
affected, and often the change which it experiences is of the same
order as the environmental change. In the winter many animals
become sluggish and may hibernate; their heart-beats slow down;
their respiratory movements become less frequent, and generally the
rate of metabolism, that is the rapidity with which chemical reactions
proceed in their tissues, becomes lessened. All these changes
become reversed in sign when the temperature again rises. The time
of year at which a fish spawns depends on the nature of the
previous season. The rate of development of the egg of a cold-
blooded animal varies with the temperature. The quantity of starch
formed in a green leaf depends on certain variables—the intensity of
light, the temperature, and the quantity of carbonic acid contained in
the medium in which it is placed. In all these cases the rate at which
certain metabolic processes go on in the body of an organism varies
according to the conditions of the environment. In general they are
cases of van’t Hoff’s law, that is, the rapidity at which a chemical
reaction proceeds varies according to the temperature.
They are changes of functioning passively experienced by the
organism as the result of environmental changes, and we must
clearly distinguish between them and such changes as are the result
of some activity or effort on the part of the organism. A flounder
which lives in a river migrates out to sea when the first of the winter
snows melt and flood the estuary with ice-cold water. Brown or
striped prawns living on brown or striped weeds become green when
they are placed on green weed, changing their pigmentation to
match that of the alga. A kitten brought up in a cold-storage
warehouse develops a sleeker and more luxuriant coat than does its
11. sister reared in a well-warmed house. An animal which recovers
from diphtheria forms an antitoxin which enables it to resist, for a
time at least, repeated infection. A man who goes exploring in polar
seas puts on warmer clothing than he wears in the tropics.
It is not necessary that an environmental change should occur in
order that an adaptation should be evoked, for the organism may
react actively and purposefully to a change in itself. The athlete
acquires by running or rowing a more powerful heart; the blacksmith
develops more muscular shoulders and arms; and the professional
pianist more supple wrists and fingers. If one kidney is removed by
operation, or if one lung becomes diseased, the organ on the other
side of the body becomes hypertrophied. Aphasia, which is due to a
lesion in the unilateral speech-centre, may pass away if the
previously unused centre on the other side of the brain should
become functionally active. In general, the continued use of an
organ leads to its increase in size and efficiency, and conversely
disuse leads to a decrease of size and even to atrophy.
The essence of an adaptation is that it is an active, purposeful
change of behaviour, or functioning, or morphology, by which the
organism responds to some change in its physical environment, or to
some other change in its own behaviour, or functioning, or
morphology. It is also a change which remains as a permanent
character in the organisation of the animal exhibiting it. It does not
matter even if the change of behaviour is one which is willed in
response to some change of environment actually experienced, or
whether it anticipates some change that is foreseen. A changed
mode of behaviour adapted intelligently leaves, at the least, a
memory which becomes a permanent part of the consciousness of
the animal, and may influence its future actions; or if it is evoked by
a process of education it must involve the establishment of a “motor
habit.” The education of a singer sets up, in the cortex and lower
centres of the brain, a nervous mechanism which controls and co-
12. ordinates the muscles of the chest and larynx, and which did not
exist prior to the process of education. Adaptations are therefore
acquired changes of some kind or other by means of which the
organism is able to exert a greater degree of mastery over its
environment, including in the latter both the inert matter of
inorganic nature and the other organisms with which the animal
competes.
They are acquirements because of which the organism deviates from
the morphological structure characteristic of the species to which it
belongs. Do they affect the entire organisation of the animal
exhibiting them, that is, may an acquired change of structure be so
fundamental that it affects not only the body of the animal in which
it occurs but also the progeny of this animal? Let us suppose that
this is the case; let us suppose that quite a large proportion of all
the individuals of a species inhabiting a restricted part of the earth’s
surface acquire the same change of character simultaneously and
that they transmit this deviation of structure to their progeny. Then
we should have an adequate means whereby the specific type
becomes modified—a means of transformism.
This is the hypothesis which is associated with the name of Lamarck,
and its essential postulate is that characters which are acquired by
an organism during its own lifetime are transmitted to its offspring.
It seems reasonable to suppose that this transmission of acquired
characters should occur—how reasonable we should note when we
see that de Vries tacitly assumes that fluctuating variations due to
the action of the environment may be inherited by the offspring of
organisms which exhibit them. That transmutation of species might
occur in this way was a popular and widespread belief in England
and Germany throughout the greater part of the nineteenth century;
and it was a belief entertained by Darwin himself, and confidently,
and even dogmatically affirmed at one time by the majority of
biologists in both countries.
13. How was it, then, that a very general change of opinion with regard
to this question occurred both in England and Germany during the
last two decades of the last century? Certainly many botanists and
zoologists continued to adhere to the older hypothesis, and most
physiologists still do not appear to make any clear distinction
between morphological characters which are inherited and those
which are acquired; but the majority of biologists did not hesitate to
conclude that not only was the transmission of acquired characters
an unproved conjecture, but that it was even theoretically
inconceivable. At the beginning of the nineteenth century this belief
had almost become a doctrine dogmatically asserted, and one
cannot fail to notice a tone of irritation and impatience on the part of
the spokesmen of zoology when the contrary opinions are
expressed. “Nature,” says Sir E. Ray Lankester, “(and there’s an end
of it) does not use acquired characters in the making and sustaining
of species for the very simple reason that she cannot do so.”
There can be little doubt that the interrogation of nature with regard
to this question was not a very thorough process. The dogmatic
denial of the transmission of acquired characters was not the result
of exhaustive experiment and observation, but was due rather to the
very general acceptance in England and Germany of Darwin’s
hypothesis of the transmutation of species by means of natural
selection, and of Weismann’s hypothesis of the continuity of the
germ-plasm.
The newer hypothesis of transmutation was one which seemed
adequate to account for the diversity of forms of life, so that it was
unnecessary to invoke the older one; though Darwin himself
admitted that the individual acquirement of structural modifications
might be a factor in the evolutionary process; and for more than
twenty years after the publication of the “Origin of Species”
Lamarck’s hypothesis was not strenuously denied by naturalists.
Early in the ’eighties, however, Weismann published his book on the
14. germ-plasm, and the brilliancy and constructive ability of the
speculations contained in this remarkable work, as well as the
analogies which they suggested between organic and inorganic
phenomena, compelled the attention of biologists. The essential
parts of Weismann’s hypothesis, as it was first presented to the
world, are as follows: very early in the evolution of living from non-
living matter many kinds of life-substance came into existence.
These were chemical compounds of great complexity, able to
accumulate and expend energy, and capable of indefinite growth
and reproduction. They were able to exist in an environment which
was hostile to them and which tended always to their dissolution,
and which was able to modify their nature and their manner of
reacting, though it could not destroy them. These elementary life-
substances were very different from those which we know in the
world of to-day. They were naked protoplasmic aggregates,
undifferentiated into cellular or nuclear plasmata, much less into
somatic and germinal tissues. All of their parts were similar, or rather
their substance was homogeneous. But even with the evolution of
the unicellular organism a profound change was initiated, for
henceforth one part of the living entity, the nucleus, became
charged with the function of reproduction, although it still continued
to exercise general control over the functions of the extra-nuclear
part of the cell. When the multi-cellular plant and animal became
evolved, the heterogeneity of the parts of the organism became
greater still. All the cells of the metazoan animal do indeed contain
nuclei, but these structures are only the functional centres of the
cells: some of the latter are sensory, others motor, others
assimilatory, others excretory, and so on. Only in the nuclei which
form the essential parts of the reproductive organs does the
reproductive function persist in all its entire potentiality: there only
does the protoplasm retain all the properties which were possessed
by the primitive life-substance before it became heterogeneous, that
is, before nucleus and cytoplasm evolved. When part of the primitive
15. life-substance became secluded in a nuclear envelope, it became, to
that extent, shielded from the action of the physical environment,
and when the organism became composed of multicellular tissues
this seclusion became more complete. Clothed in the garments of
the flesh, it was henceforth protected from the shocks of the
environment, and it became the immutable germ-plasm. But for a
very long time before this evolution of tissues the naked life-
substance had been exposed to the action of external physical
agencies, and it had been modified by these into very numerous
forms of protoplasmic matter. When multicellular plants and animals
had been evolved there were, therefore, not one, but many kinds of
life-substance in existence, and these have persisted until to-day as
the unchanging germ-plasmata of the existing organisms.
The Weismannian hypothesis of to-day, supported and amplified, as
it is, by subsidiary hypotheses, does not make the same appeal to
the student as did the pristine and altogether attractive speculation
of thirty years ago. The analogy which it then presented with the
matured chemical theory of matter must have been almost
irresistible. Just as the indefinitely numerous compounds of
chemistry are only the permutations and combinations of some of
eighty-odd different kinds of matter, so all the forms of life are
combinations and permutations of some of the many different kinds
of life-substance which came into existence before the evolution of
the multicellular organism. And just as the chemical elements were
regarded (in 1883) as immutable things, preserving their
individuality even when they were associated together as
compounds, so Weismann and his followers looked upon the
different kinds of life-substance contained in the chromatic matter of
the nucleus as immutable and immortal living entities. Associated
together in indefinitely numerous ways by sexual conjugation, they
may build up indefinitely variable living structures, but they remain
individualised and lying side by side in the germ-plasmata of
16. organisms, just as the atoms were supposed to lie side by side in the
chemical molecule of the inorganic compound.31
If these speculations were true, a change of morphology or
functioning, acquired by the body, or somatoplasm, could not
possibly be transmitted to the progeny of the organism, for by
hypothesis the germ-plasm cannot be affected by external changes,
and it is only the germ-plasm contained in the spermatozoon of the
male parent, or in the ovum of the female, that shapes and builds
the body of the offspring. As if this were not enough, Weismann and
his followers argued that the transmissibility of a somatic change to
the germ was inconceivable. Why? Because the germ-cells are
apparently simple: they are only semi-fluid protoplasmic cell bodies
and nuclei, not differing appreciably from the cell bodies and nuclei
of the somatoplasm (by hypothesis, it should be noted, the
difference is profound). There are no structural connections—no
nerves, for instance—which join together the cells of the bodily
tissues with the parts of the germ and transmit changes in the
former to the latter. How, then, could a somatic change affect the
germ so that when the latter developed into an organism this
particular change became reproduced? Now this may have seemed a
conclusive argument in 1883, but is it so conclusive to-day? We
know that the cells and tissues are not isolated particles, but that all
are connected together by protoplasmic filaments. We know that
specialised nervous tissues are not necessary for the transmission of
an impulse from a sensory to a motor surface, but that such an
impulse may be transmitted by undifferentiated protoplasm. We
know that nerve-cells and nerve-fibres are not structurally
continuous with each other but that the impulse leaps across gaps,
so to speak. We know that events that occur in one part of the body
of the mammal may affect other parts by means of the liberation of
a chemical substance, or hormone, into the blood stream. It would
be strange indeed if a logical hypothesis capable of accounting for
17. the transmission of a particular change from the soma to the germ
could not be elaborated.
But acquired characters were not really transmitted after all. So
those who clung to Weismannism argued—an unnecessary task
surely if this transmissibility were inconceivable. We cannot discuss
the evidence here, and it is unnecessary that we should do so, since
it is all considered in the popular books on heredity. There is an
apparent consensus of opinion in these books which should not
influence the reader unfamiliar with zoological literature, nor obscure
the fact that many zoologists and botanists accept the opposite
conclusion. The discussion is all very tiresome, but we may glean
some results of positive value from it. It is unquestionable that very
few conclusive and adequate investigations have been made: one
cannot help noticing that the literature contains an amount of
controversy out of all proportion to the amount of sound
experimental and observational work actually carried out. Most of
the experiments deal with the consideration of traumatic lesions or
mutilations, and it seems to be proved that such defects are not
transmitted, or at least are very rarely transmitted. The tails of
kittens have been cut off; the ears of terrier-dogs have been lopped;
and the feet and waists of Chinese and European ladies have been
compressed, and all throughout very numerous generations, yet
these defects are not transmitted from parent to offspring. This kind
of evidence forms the bulk of that which orthodox zoological opinion
has adduced in favour of the belief in the non-inheritability of
acquired characters, but does it all really matter? What might be
transmitted is a useful, purposeful modification of morphology, or
functioning, or behaviour, induced by the environment throughout a
number of generations—an adaptation rather than a harmful lesion.
There is little conclusive evidence that such adaptations are
inherited, though anyone who carefully studies the evidence in
existence will not be likely to say that they are certainly not
18. transmitted. Does, for instance, the blacksmith transmit his muscular
shoulders and arms to his sons, or the pianiste her supple wrists and
fingers to her daughters? There are no observations and
experiments in the literature worthy of the importance attaching to
the question at issue.
It should be noted also that the germ-plasm is certainly not the
immutable substance that the hypothesis originally postulated.
Changes in the outer physical environment may certainly affect it;
thus the larvæ bred from animals which live in abnormal physical
conditions (temperature, moisture, etc.) may differ morphologically
from the larvæ bred from animals belonging to the same species but
living in a normal environment. The latter must therefore react on
the germ-plasm, but the environment formed by the bodily tissues
which surround the germ-cells may also so react: thus the germ-
cells may be affected by such bodily changes as differences in the
supply of nutritive matter, for instance. The offspring may deviate
from the parental structure as the result of structural modifications
acquired by the parent during its own lifetime, and, even if the filial
deviation were not of the same nature as the parental modification,
its inheritance would be an adequate cause of some degree of
transmutation.
It is, however, certainly difficult to prove that organisms transmit to
their progeny the same kinds of deviation from the specific structure
that they themselves acquire as the result of the action of the
environment. Even if they did transmit such acquired deviations, it
does not seem clear that this kind of inheritance alone would be a
sufficient cause of the diversity of forms of life that we do actually
observe in nature. Change of morphology would indeed occur, but
we should expect to find insensible gradations of form and not
individualised species. Let us suppose that Lamarckian inheritance
acts for a considerable time on two or three originally distinct
species inhabiting an isolated tract of land, and let us suppose that
19. we investigate the variations occurring among all the organisms
which are accessible to our observation with respect to some one
variable character.
The diagram A represents what would seem to be the result of this
process of transmutation. The numbers along the horizontal line are
proportional to their distance from o, the origin, and represent the
magnitude of the variation considered; and the height of the vertical
lines represents the number of organisms exhibiting each degree of
variation. We should expect to find that all the variations were
equally frequent in their occurrence, but this is not what a study of
variability in such a case as we have supposed—that of the animals
inhabiting an isolated part of land—does actually indicate. What we
should find would be the conditions represented by the diagram B.
There would be two or more modes, that is, values of the variable
character which are represented by a greater number of individuals
than any other value of the variation. The environmental conditions
favour the individuals displaying this variation to a greater extent
than they favour the rest.
Fig. 24.
That is to say, the environment selects some kinds of variations
among the many that are exhibited, and this is, of course, the
essential feature of the hypothesis of the transmutation of species
by means of natural selection of variable characters. Organisms
enter the world differently endowed with the power of acting on the
medium in which they live, or on the environment consisting of their
20. fellow-organisms. Those that are most favourably endowed live
longest and have a more numerous progeny than those that are less
favourably endowed, and they transmit this favourable endowment
to their offspring. Among the progeny of the progeny there may be
some in which the favourable variation is still more favourable than it
was when it first appeared. Thus the variations which are selected
increase in amount. Elimination of the weakest occurs. The idea is
eminently clear and simple, and possesses a great degree of
generality: it is self-evident, says Driesch, meaning that it cannot be
refuted, for it was certainly not clearly obvious to the naturalists
before Darwin and Wallace. But, unless we choose to be dogmatic,
we can hardly claim that it is an all-sufficient cause for the
evolutionary process, and it is useless to attempt to minimise the
difficulties of the hypothesis. It is not easy to make it account for the
origin of instincts or tropisms, or for restitutions and regenerations of
lost parts, or for the appearance of the first non-functional rudiments
of organs which later become functional and useful. It is, indeed,
possible to devise plausible hypotheses accounting for all these
things in terms of natural selection, but each such subsidiary
hypothesis loads the original one and weakens it to that extent.
Natural selection does not, of course, induce or evoke variations;
these are given to its activity, and they are the material on which it
operates. What, then, is the nature of the deviations from the
specific types of morphology that are selected or eliminated? Not
those induced by the environment, and transmitted in their nature
and direction to the progeny of the organisms first displaying them.
It is not unproved that such variations do occur, and it is even
probable that they do occur. But we may conclude that the
frequency of their occurrence is not great enough to afford sufficient
material for natural selection. It is also clear that the ordinarily
occurring variations that we observe in any large group of organisms
collected at random are not alone the material for selection; for we
21. have seen that experimental breeding from such variations does not
lead to the establishment of a stable race or “variety.” Nevertheless
some effect is produced, and this may be accounted for by
supposing that the observed variations are really of two kinds—
fluctuating variations, which are not inherited, and mutations, which
are inherited. The small observed effect is due to the selection of the
mutations alone: it is a real effect of selection, an undoubted
transmutation of the specific form, but experimental and statistical
investigations seem to show that selection from the variations that
we usually observe is too slow a process to account for the existing
forms of life.
Natural selection acts, therefore, on mutations. Now it seems that
we are forced to recognise the existence of two categories of
mutations, (1) those stable modifications of an “unit-character”
which we term “Mendelian characters,” and (2) those groups of
stable modifications to which de Vries applied the term mutations. It
seems at first difficult to see how permanent modifications of the
specific form can be brought about by the transmission of Mendelian
characters, for these characters are always transmitted in pairs. Let
us take a concrete case—that of a man who has six fingers on his
right hand, and let us suppose that this was a real, spontaneously
appearing character or mutation which had not previously occurred
in the ancestry of the man. Two contrasting characters would then
be transmitted, (1) the normal five-fingered hand, and (2) the six-
fingered hand. Both of these characters are supposed to be present
at the same time in the organisation of the men and women of the
family originating in this individual, but one of them is always latent
or recessive. There would, however, be individuals in which only one
of the characters would be present—either the normal or abnormal
number of digits, but intermarriage with individuals belonging to the
other pure strain would immediately lead again to the transmission
of the contrasting characters, or allelomorphs, although marriage
22. with an individual belonging to the same pure strain would carry on
the normal or abnormal unmixed character into another generation.
But if the possession of six fingers conveyed an undoubted
advantage, and if natural selection did really act in civilised man as
regards the transmission of morphological characters, then a stable
variety (Homo sapiens hexadactylus, let us say) might be produced
by its agency. The mutations which we consider in the investigation
of the inheritance of alternating characters are therefore just as
much the material for natural selections as the mutations which
occur among the ordinary variations displayed by organisms in
general: but since only one or two characters appear to be subject
to this mode of transmission, the process would be so slow as to be
inadmissible as an exclusive cause of evolution.
If we assume that de Vries’ mutations are the material on which
selection works, this difficulty is immediately removed, for we now
have to deal with groups of stable deviations: not one or two, but all
the characters of the organism appear to share in the mutability. But
another difficulty now arises. A species of plant or animal may have
got along very well with its ordinary structural endowment, and then
a number of individuals begin to mutate. Some of the deviations
from the specific type may be of real advantage, but others may not:
we can, indeed, imagine an in-co-ordination between the mutating
parts or organs which would be fatal to the animal; on the other
hand, there might be complete co-ordination, with the result that
great advantage might be conferred upon the individual. It is easy to
see how co-ordination of mutating parts is absolutely essential. An
animal which preserves its existence by successful avoidance of its
enemies would not be greatly benefited by a more transparent
crystalline lens if the vitreous humour of its eye were slightly
opaque; and even if all the parts of the eye were perfectly co-
ordinated, increased acuity of vision would not greatly help it if its
limbs were not able to respond all the more quickly to the more
23. acute sensation. Un-co-ordinated mutations would therefore tend to
become eliminated, while co-ordinated ones would become selected
and would become the characters of new species.
We must now ask why some groups of variations are co-ordinated
while others are not, and it is here that we encounter the most
formidable of the difficulties of any hypothesis of transformism which
depends on the concept of natural selection. If we assume that the
environment induces the appearance of variations, it seems to follow
that these variations are likely to be co-ordinated, but we then
invoke the principle of the acquirement of characters and their
transmission by heredity. If, on the other hand, we assume that
variations appear spontaneously, and quite irresponsibly, so to
speak, in the germ-plasm of the organism, the selection, or
elimination, by the environment will not occur until the co-ordinated
or un-co-ordinated variations appear. It is far more likely that a large
number of simultaneously appearing variations will be un-co-
ordinated than that they will be co-ordinated. Merely as a matter of
probability the progressive modification of a species will take place
slowly—too slowly to account for what we see.
Two examples will make it easier to appreciate this difficulty.
Evolution has undoubtedly proceeded in definite directions. There
are two dominant groups of fishes, the Teleosts and the
Elasmobranchs, and both must have originated from a common
stock. All the characters in each kind of fish must have been useful
(since they were selected), and all must have been modifications of
the characters of the common stock. The latter became modified
along two main lines, or directions, which are indicated by the
characters of the existing Teleosts and Elasmobranchs. The whole
skeleton, the gills, the circulatory system, and the brain differ in
certain respects in these groups. Therefore a modification of the
brain in the primitive Elasmobranchs was associated with a
modification of the cranium, and therefore with the jaw-apparatus,
24. and so with the branchial skeleton and the gills, and therefore also
with the heart, and so on. Suppose that the evolutionary process
included ten useful and co-ordinated variations—not an unlikely
hypothesis—and suppose that each of these ten useful variations
was associated with nineteen useless ones. The chance that any one
of them did occur was therefore one in twenty; and if they all
occurred independently, that is, if the occurrence of any one of them
was compatible with the occurrence of any other one, or of all the
others, then the chance that all the ten variations occurred
simultaneously was 20−10 that is, one in the number 20 followed by
10 cyphers, a rather great improbability.
Most biological students are familiar with the similarity of the so-
called eye of the mollusc Pecten and that of the vertebrate. The
resemblance is one of general structure: in each of these organs
there is a camera obscura, a transparent cornea, and behind that a
crystalline lens. On the posterior wall of the camera there is a
receptor organ, or retina, and this is composed of several layers of
nervous elements. The actual nerve-endings are on the surface of
the retina, which is turned away from the light, that is, the optic
nerve runs towards the anterior surface of the retina, and then its
fibres turn backwards. This “inversion of the retinal layers” occurs in
all vertebrate animals, but it is exceptional in the invertebrates. The
above general description applies equally well to the eye of the
vertebrate and to that of Pecten.
Let us admit that these mantle organs in Pecten are eyes, for there
is no conclusive experimental evidence that they really are visual
organs, and plausible reasoning suggests that they may subserve
other functions. Let us assume that the minute structure of the
Pecten eye is similar to that of the vertebrate, and that its
development is also similar: as a matter of fact both histology and
embryology are different. Then we have to explain, on the principles
of natural selection, the parallel evolution of similar structures along
25. independent lines of descent; for mollusc and vertebrate have
certainly been evolved from some very remote common ancestor in
which the eye could not have been more than a simple pigment spot
with a special nerve termination behind it. In each case the organ
was formed by a very great number of serially occurring variations,
yet these two sets of variations must have been the same at each
stage in two independently occurring processes. On any reasonable
assumption as to the number of co-ordinated variations required,
and their chances of occurrence, the mathematical improbability that
these two series of variations did occur is so great as to amount to
impossibility so far as our theory of transformism is concerned.
Natural selection could not, therefore, have produced these two
organs.
This argument of Bergson’s fails, of course, in the particular instance
chosen by him, but this is because the case is an unfortunate one.
Probably a morphologist could find a very much better case of
convergent evolution—the parallelism between the teeth of some
Marsupials and some Rodents, for instance. If detailed histological
and embryological investigation should show a similarity of structure
and development, in such compared organs Bergson’s argument
would retain all its force. We should then have to assume that there
was a directing agency, or tendency in the organism, co-ordinating,
or perhaps actually producing, variations.
Mechanistic biology can suggest no means whereby simultaneously
occurring variations are co-ordinated: let us therefore think of these
variations as occurring independently of each other, and let us ignore
the difficulty of the infrequency of occurrence of suitably co-
ordinated variations. Variations are exhibited by the evolving
organism, and the selection of co-ordinated series is the work of the
environment. But the environment is merely a passive agency, and it
has to confer direction on the innumerable variations presented to it
by the organism, rejecting most but selecting some. Let us think of
26. the environment, says a critic of Bergson, as a blank wall against
which numerous jets of sand are being projected. The jets scatter as
they approach the wall: each of them represents the variations
displayed by some organ or organ-system of an animal. Let us think
of a pattern drawn on the wall in some kind of adhesive substance:
where the wall is blank the sand would strike, but would fall off
again, but it would adhere to the parts covered by the adhesive
paint. The sand grains strike the wall from all sides, that is, their
directions are un-co-ordinated. The wall is passive, yet a pattern is
imprinted upon it. From passivity and un-co-ordination come
symmetry and order.
This argument withstands superficial examination, but to accept it is
truly to be “fooled by a metaphor.” For what is the pattern on the
wall? It is the environment, says the critic. But what is the
environment? Inevitably we think of it as something that makes or
moulds the organism, a way of regarding it that drags after it all the
confusion of thought implied in the above analogy. Clearly the
environment is made by the organism. Its form, that is, space, is
only the mode of motion possible to the organism; it is clear that
whether the space perceived by an organism is one-, two-, or three-
dimensional, space depends upon its mode of motion. Its universe is
whatever it can act upon, actually or in contemplation. Atoms and
molecules, planets and suns are its environment because it can in
some measure act upon these bodies, or at least they can be made
useful to it. Chloroform or saccharine, or methyl-blue and all the
dye-stuffs prepared from coal-tar by the chemists, are part of our
environment because we have made them. They existed only in
potentiality prior to the development of organic chemistry. They
were possible, but man had to assemble their elements before they
became actual. In making them, he conferred direction on inorganic
reactions.
27. Surely the organism itself selects the variations of structure and
functioning that are exhibited by itself. If we hesitate to say that
these modifications are creations, let us say that they are
permutations of elements of structure, and that they were potential
in the organisation of the creature exhibiting them. They occur in
the latter if we must not say that they are produced. If they are
detrimental, the organism is the less able to live and reproduce, and
if it does reproduce, its progeny are subject to the same disability. If,
as is usual, they simply do not matter, they may or may not affect
the direction of evolution. If they are of advantage, that is, if they
confer increased mastery over the environment, over the inert things
with which the organism comes into contact, the latter enlarges its
universe or environment, lives longer, and transmits to its progeny
its increased powers of action. Indefinite increase of power over
inert matter is potential in living things, and variation converts this
potentiality into actuality.
This discussion is all very formal, but two conclusions emerge from
it: (1) the insufficiency of the mechanistic hypotheses of
transformism to account for all the diversity of life that has appeared
on the earth during the limited period of time which physics allows
for the evolutionary process. There does not appear to be any
possibility of meeting this objection if we continue to adhere to the
hypothesis of transformism already discussed: it faces us at every
turn in our discussion. How great a part is played, for instance, by
“pure chance” in the elimination of individual organisms during the
struggle for existence! Let us think of a shoal of sprats on which sea-
birds are feeding: it is chance which determines whether the birds
prey on one part of the shoal rather than another. Or let us think of
the millions of young fishes that are left stranded on the sea-shore
by the receding tide: it is chance that determines whether an
individual fish will be left stranded in a shallow sandpool which dries
up under the sun’s rays, rather than in a deeper one that retains its
28. water until the tide next flows over it. It is no use to urge that there
is no such thing as “pure chance,” and that what we so speak of is
only the summation of a multitude of small independent causes. Let
us grant this, and it still follows that the alternative of life or death to
multitudes of organisms depends not upon their adaptability but
upon minute un-co-ordinated causes which have nothing to do with
their morphology or behaviour. These are instances among many
others which will occur to the field naturalist: they shorten still
further the time available for natural selection in the shaping of
species, for they reduce the material on which this factor operates.
The other result of our discussion is to indicate that the problem of
transformism of species is in reality the problem of organic
variability. Let us assume that all the hypotheses of evolution are
true: that the environment may induce changes of morphology and
functioning in animals and plants, and that these changes
themselves—the actual acquirements themselves, that is—are
transmissible by heredity. Let us assume that the germ-cells may be
affected by the environment, either the outer physical environment,
or the inner somatic environment, and that mutations may thus
arise. Let us assume that mutations may be selected in some way,
so that specific discontinuities of structure—“individualised”
categories of organisms, or species—may thus come into existence.
Even then transformism is still as great a problem as ever, for the
question of the mode of origin of these variations or modifications
still presses for solution.
The simplest possible cases that we can think of present the most
formidable difficulties. The muscles of the shoulders and arms of the
blacksmith become bigger and stronger as the result of his activity.
Why? We say that the increased katabolism of the tissues causes a
greater output of carbonic acid and other excretory substances, and
that these stimulate certain cerebral centres, which in turn
accelerate the rate of action of the heart and respiratory organs. An
29. increased flow of nutritive matter and oxygen then traverses the
blood-vessels in the muscles of the shoulders and arms, and the
latter grow. Probably processes of this kind do occur, but to say that
they do is not to give any real explanation of the hypertrophy of the
musculature of the man’s body, for what essentially occurs is the
division of the nuclei and the formation of new muscle fibres. How
precisely does an increased supply of nutritive matter cause these
nuclei to divide and grow? This is a relatively simple example of the
adaptability of a single tissue-system to a change in the general
bodily activity, that is to say it is a variation of structure induced by
an environmental change.
In most cases, however, the variations of structure that form the
starting-points of transmutation processes cannot clearly be related
to environmental changes. Some fishes produce very great numbers
of ova in single broods—a female ling, for instance, is said to spawn
annually some eighteen millions of eggs. If we examine these ova
we shall find that there is considerable variation in the diameter and
in other measureable characters. We may attempt to correlate these
deviations from the mean characters with environmental differences.
All the eggs “mature,” that is, they absorb water and swell, while
various parts, such as the yolk, undergo chemical changes, during
the month or so before the fish spawns. This process of maturation
takes place in the closed ovarian sac; and the eggs lie practically
free in this sac, and are bathed in a fluid which exudes from the
blood-vessels in its walls. It may indeed be the case that there are
variations in the composition of this fluid in the different parts of the
sac; but these variations cannot be great; the fluid is not really a
nutritive one; and the process of maturation is not hurried. We can
hardly believe that the differences in morphology are due to these
minute environmental differences. We may indeed say that we do
not really study the germ cells when we measure the diameter of
the egg or investigate any other measurable character, for the real
30. germ-plasm is the chromatic matter of the nucleus. But this
obviously begs the whole question: all the parts of the egg that are
accessible to observation do vary, and ought we to conclude that the
parts which are not accessible do not vary? They must vary: the
germ-plasm of each egg must be different from that of all the
others, for the organisms which develop from these germs show
inheritable differences. Further, can we contend that such minute
environmental differences as we have indicated affect the germ-
plasm? Is it so susceptible to external changes? A high degree of
stability of the germ-plasm is postulated in the mechanistic
hypothesis that we have considered, and indeed everything indicates
that the specific organisation is very stable. Can it then be upset by
such minute differences in the somatic environment?
But the germ-plasm is not really simple, says Weismann; it is a
complex mixture of ancestral germ-plasms. The individual fish that
we were considering arose from an aggregate of determinants, and
half of these determinants were received from the male parent and
half from the female one. But each of these parents also arose from
a similar aggregate of determinants, which again were received from
both parents, and so on throughout the ancestry of the fish. It is
true that the germ-plasms contributed by the ancestors were not
quite different, but they differed to some extent. Then there must
have been as many permutations of determinants in the ovum from
which the fish developed as there were permutations of characters
in the eighteen millions of ova produced by it. Does not the
hypothesis collapse by its own weight?
It could only have been such difficulties as are here suggested that
led Weismann to formulate his hypothesis of germinal selection. All
those eighteen millions of eggs arose from the division of relatively
few germ cells. Each of these original cells contained the specific
assemblage of determinants, and the elements of the latter are of
course the biophors. The biophors, it will be remembered, are either
31. very complex chemical molecules, or aggregates of such. When the
germ cells of the germinal epithelium divide to form those cells
which are going to become the ova, the biophors must divide and
grow to their former size, and again divide—it is really a chemical
hypothesis that we are stating, though we have to employ language
which seems to do violence to all sound chemical notions! Now while
the biophors were dividing and growing they were “competing” for
the food matter which was in the liquid bathing them, and some got
less, while others got more than the average quantity. In this way
their characters became different, so that the eggs, on the
attainment of maturity, became different from each other. Now,
apart altogether from the impossibility of applying any test as to the
objective reality of this hypothesis, it must be rejected, for it confers
on bodies which belong to the order of molecules properties which
are really those of aggregates of molecules. The typical properties of
a gas, for instance, are not the properties of the molecules of which
the gas is composed, but are statistical properties exhibited by
aggregates of molecules. On the hypothesis of germinal selection
the properties of the animals which develop from the biophors are
extended to the biophors themselves. It was surely a desperate
plight which evoked this notion! It is, as William James said about
Mr Bradley’s intellectualism, mechanism in extremis!
We seem forced to the conclusion—and this is the result to which all
this discussion is intended to approximate—that variations, heritable
variations at least, arise spontaneously. That is, there are organic
differences which have no causes, a conclusion against which all our
habits of reasoning rebel. Yet it may be possible to argue that the
problem of the causes of variations is really a pseudo-problem after
all, and that there is no logical reason why we should be compelled
to postulate such causes. When we think of organic variability, do we
not think, surreptitiously it may be, of something that varies, that is,
something that ought to be immutable but which is compelled to
32. deviate? But what is given to our observation is simply the variations
among organisms.
Let us think of the crude minting machines of Tudor times which
produced coins which were not very similar in weight and design.
From that time onward minting machines have continually been
improved, each successive engine turning out coins more and more
alike in every respect, so that we now possess machines which
stamp out sovereigns as nearly as possible identical with each other.
Yet they are not quite alike, and this is because the action of the
engine, in all its operations, is not invariably the same. In
imagination, however, we make a minting machine which does work
perfectly, and turns out coins absolutely alike, but this ideal engine is
only the conceptual limit to a series of machines each of which is
more nearly perfect than was the last one. It is unlikely that matter
possesses the rigidity and homogeneity which would enable us to
obtain this perfect identity of result; nevertheless this identity has a
very obvious utility, and we strive after it, so that the result of our
activity is the conception of a perfect mechanism, and of products
which are identical. We assume that the reasons why our early and
cruder machines were imperfect are also the reasons why our later
and more perfect ones do not produce the results that we desire.
We are artisans first of all, and then philosophers, and so we extend
this ingrained mechanism of the intellect into our speculations. To
the biologist the organism is a mechanism which, in reproduction,
ought to turn out perfect replicas of itself. It does not do so. Now, if
biology shows us anything, it shows us that living matter is
essentially “labile,” that is, something fluent, while lifeless matter is
essentially rigid, or nearly so. Yet, ignoring this difference, we expect
from the organism that identity of result and operation that we
conceptualise, but do not actually obtain from the artificial machine.
We regard the organism, not only as a mechanism like the minting
machine, but as the conceptual limit to a series of mechanisms. The
33. reproductive apparatus of our fish does not turn out ova which are
identical, but which differ from each other. Some of this variation, we
say, is due to the action of the environment; and some of it is due to
the condition that each ovum receives a slightly different legacy of
characters from the multitude of ancestors. The rest we conceive as
due to the imperfect working of the reproductive machinery.
It is useful that science should so regard the working of the
organism, for in the search for the causes of variation our analysis of
the phenomena of life becomes more penetrating. But does any
result of investigation or reasoning justify us in assuming, as a
matter of pure speculation, that deviations from the specific type of
structure are physically determined in all their extent? Have we not
just as much justification for the belief that these deviations are truly
spontaneous, and that they arise de novo? So we approach, from
the point of view of experimental biology, Bergson’s idea of Creative
Evolution.
35. CHAPTER VII
THE MEANING OF EVOLUTION
Apart from experimental investigation, the results of comparative
anatomy, even if they are amplified by those of comparative
embryology, and even if they include fossil as well as living
organisms, do no more than suggest the occurrence of an
evolutionary process. It is in vain that we attempt a demonstration
of transmutation of forms of life by showing that a similarity of
structure is to be observed in all animals belonging to the same
group. We may show successfully that the skeleton of the limbs and
limb-girdles of vertebrate animals is anatomically the same series of
parts, whether it be the arms and legs of man, or the wings and legs
of birds, or the pectoral and pelvic fins of fishes: such homologies as
these were indeed suggested by the mediæval comparative
anatomists apart altogether from any notions as to an evolutionary
process. We may show that the simplicity of the skeleton of the head
of man is apparent only, and that in it are to be traced most of the
anatomical elements that enter into the skull and visceral arches of
the fish; and that fusions and losses and translocations of parts have
occurred and can be made to account for the observed differences
of form. All this might just as easily be explained by assuming a
process of special creation, or the gradual development of a plan or
design. Just as God made Eve from a superfluous rib taken from the
body of her husband, so He may have formed the auditory ossicles
of the higher vertebrate from those parts of the visceral arches of
the lower forms which had become superfluous in the construction
of the more highly organised creature. However much the language
of evolution may force itself on biology, it does no more than
symbolise the results of anatomy and embryology, and provide a
convenient framework on which these may be arranged.
36. But if, as all modern experimental work shows, the form of the
organism is, in the long run, the result of its interaction with the
environment; if, as indeed we see, this form is not an immutable
one, but a stage in a flux; and if deviations from it may occur with
all the appearance of spontaneity, then it would appear that the
observed facts of comparative anatomy and embryology are capable
of only one explanation. They represent the results of an
evolutionary process, and the relationships that morphological
studies indicate are no longer merely logical, but really material
ones. We can now endeavour to utilise these results in the attempt
to trace the directions taken by the process of evolution.
In so doing we set up the schemes of phylogeny. We divide all
organisms into plants and animals, and then we subdivide each of
these kingdoms of life into a small number of sub-kingdoms, in each
of which we set up classes, orders, families, genera, and species.
But our classification is no longer merely a formal arrangement
whereby we introduce order into the confusion of naturally occurring
things. It is now a “family tree,” and from it we attempt to deduce
the descent of any one of the members represented in it.
The sub-kingdoms, or phyla, of organisms are the primary groups in
this evolutionary classification. We divide all animals into about nine
of these phyla—the Protozoa or unicellular organisms; the Porifera or
sponges; the Cœlenterates, a group which includes all such
organisms as Zoophytes, Corals, Sea-Anemones, and “Jelly-fishes”;
the Platyhelminth worms, that is the Tapeworms, Trematodes, and
some other structurally similar animals which live freely in nature;
the Annelids, a rather heterogeneous assemblage of creatures which
includes all those animals commonly called worms; the Echinoderms,
which are the Star-fishes, Sea-Urchins, and Feather-Stars found in
the sea; the Molluscs, that is the animals of which the Oyster, the
Periwinkle, the Garden-Slug and the Octopus are good examples;
the Arthropods, which include the Crustacea, the Insects, and the
37. Spiders; and lastly the Vertebrates. Any such classification we
naturally endeavour to make as complete a one as possible, but
round the bases of the larger groups there cling small groups of
organisms the precise relationships of which are doubtful. Yet, on
the whole, these sub-kingdoms of organisms represent clearly the
main directions along which the present complexity of animal
structure has been evolved.
There is an essential structure which we endeavour to assign to all
the animals of each phylum, and which is different from the
structure of the animals belonging to all other phyla. The Protozoa,
which for the present we regard as animals, are organisms the
bodies of which consist of single cells. These cells may become
aggregated into colonies, but they may as well exist apart from each
other. They may be enclosed in limy, siliceous, or cellulose skeletons
or shells, or they may possess limy or siliceous spicules in their
tissues—these parts are non-essential, and the schematic Protozoan
is a cell containing a single nucleus, and capable of independent
existence. The Porifera, and all the other phyla, include organisms
the bodies of which are made up of aggregates of cells. In the
Porifera the cells, which are specially modified in structure, are
arranged to form the internal walls of a “sponge-work” the cavities
of which open to the outside by series of pores through which water
is circulated. The bodies of the Cœlenterates are typically sacs
formed by a double wall of cells—endoderm and ectoderm. This sac
opens to the exterior by a single opening, or mouth, surrounded by
a circlet of tentacles, and its cavity is the only one contained in the
body of the animal. The Platyhelminth worms are animals the bodies
of which are also composed of ectodermal and endodermal tissues,
between which is intercalated another mesodermal tissue. They
have a single digestive sac or alimentary canal opening to the
exterior by means of a mouth only; and they all possess a complex,
hermaphrodite, reproductive apparatus. In all the other phyla there
38. are also three principal layers or kinds of tissue, but in addition to
the cavity of the alimentary canal there is also a body cavity, or
cœlom, which is contained in the mesodermal tissues. The
Echinoderms are such cœlomate animals, but the alimentary canal
now opens to the exterior by means of both mouth and anus; there
are separate systems of vessels through which water and blood
circulate; the blood-vascular system of vessels is closed to the
exterior, the water-vascular system being open; and the integument
is armed by means of calcareous spines or plates. The Annelids are
animals with cylindrically shaped bodies, segmented so as to form
numerous joints. Each segment bears spines or hairs or appendages
of some sort, and also contains a separate nerve-centre. The
alimentary canal opens externally by a mouth and anus, and there is
a spacious body cavity. The Molluscs are unsegmented animals. The
dorsal part of their bodies contains the viscera, and is protected by a
shell; while the ventral part is modified for the purpose of
locomotion. A fold of integument hangs down all round the body and
encloses a cavity in which the gills are contained. The Arthropods
are segmented animals. The body is armed by a calcareous carapace
or shell which forms the exo-skeleton. Each bodily segment bears a
pair of jointed appendages, and also contains a separate nerve-
centre. The whole series of ganglia are connected together by
means of a nerve-cord, and the nervous system lies ventral to the
alimentary canal. The Vertebrata are also segmented animals, but
the segmentation is not apparent externally. The skeleton is an
internal one, and is built up round an axial rod or notochord. The
nervous system is situated dorsally to the alimentary canal. There
are two pairs of limbs.
Thus we set up an essential or schematic structure characteristic of
each phylum. These schemata have no real existence: they are
morphological types from which the actual bodily structure of the
animals in each phylum may be deduced. They represent the
39. minimum of parts which must be present in order that an animal
may be placed in the phylum to which we assume that it may
belong. But these anatomical parts need not actually be present in
the fully developed organism: thus there are Crustacea in which the
body is not segmented, and in which neither calcareous exo-skeleton
nor jointed appendages are present; and there are Vertebrata in
which the limbs may be absent. But in such cases we require
evidence that the essential anatomical characters which are absent
in the fully developed animal have appeared at some stage in its
ontogeny, and this evidence is usually available. Or if embryological
evidence cannot be obtained, we require proof that the animal can
be traced backwards in time, by means of other characters, to some
form in which the missing structures reappear. The schemata are
thus the generalised or conceptual morphology of the phyla. They
are not the morphology of an individual organism, but they include
the morphology of the race.
They are, Bergson says, themes on which innumerable variations
have been constructed. Structural elements may be suppressed, as
when the notochord disappears in the development of the individual
Tunicate, though it is present in the larva. Or elements may
disappear and become replaced by other structures, as when the
true molluscan gills are lost in the Nudibranchs and are replaced by
the respiratory plumes. They may be reduced to vestiges, as in the
case of the “pen” of the Squids, or the “cuttlebone” of the cuttlefish,
remnants of the domed shell of the primitive mollusc; or in the
appendix vermiformis of the human being, a remnant of the
voluminous cæcum of the herbivorous animal. Structures which were
originally distinct may coalesce, as when the greater number of the
primitively distinct segments of the thorax of the crustacean fuse to
form the “body” of the crab; or when the segmental ganglia of the
same animal fuse together to form the great thoracic nerve-centre.
The form and situation of a structure may vary within wide limits:
40. thus the digestive cavity of some Cœlenterates may be a simple sac,
as in the Hydra, but it may be partially subdivided by numerous
mesenteries as in the zooid of the Corals; or the simple tubular
alimentary canal in some Platyhelminth worms may be bifurcated in
others, triple-branched in others again, or even provided with
numerous lateral branches, as in the more specialised species in the
group. Organs originally simple may undergo progressive
modification: thus the eye of a mollusc may be a simple
integumentary cavity in the floor of which there are some simple
nerve-endings, and some black pigment; or this cavity may close up
so as to form a sac, and the anterior part of the sac may become
transparent so as to form a cornea. Behind the cornea a lens may be
formed, and the simple terminal twigs of the nerve-endings may
become a many-layered retina of great complexity of structure. In
the lowest Chordates the central part of the blood-vascular system is
a simple contractile vessel, but this becomes the two-chambered
heart of the fish, the three-chambered heart of the reptile, or the
powerful four-chambered heart of the warm-blooded animal.
Anatomical elements may change in function; thus parts of the
visceral skeleton in the fish may become the ossicles of the middle
ear in the Reptiles and Mammals; while its swim-bladder may
possibly be represented in the higher vertebrates by the lungs.
Thus there may be suppression of parts leading to entire
disappearance or to mere vestiges of the original morphology. A
structure degenerating through disuse may become removed from
its typical relations with other structures and may acquire altogether
new ones. Or its increasing importance may lead to its hypertrophy
and to increased complexity of structure, and perhaps to the
inclusion of new anatomical elements, or to the incorporation of
other parts, the function of which may originally have been quite
different. In all sorts of ways organs and organ-systems may
become anatomically different as the result of adaptive
41. Welcome to our website – the perfect destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. We believe that every book holds a new world,
offering opportunities for learning, discovery, and personal growth.
That’s why we are dedicated to bringing you a diverse collection of
books, ranging from classic literature and specialized publications to
self-development guides and children's books.
More than just a book-buying platform, we strive to be a bridge
connecting you with timeless cultural and intellectual values. With an
elegant, user-friendly interface and a smart search system, you can
quickly find the books that best suit your interests. Additionally,
our special promotions and home delivery services help you save time
and fully enjoy the joy of reading.
Join us on a journey of knowledge exploration, passion nurturing, and
personal growth every day!
testbankfan.com