Although the mere fact that parthenogenesis occurs at all is, in my opinion, sufficient to disprove the theory of rejuvenescence, it is well to remember that parthenogenesis is now the only method of reproduction in many species (although we do not know the period of time over which these conditions have extended), and is nevertheless unattended by any perceptible decrease in fertility.
From all these considerations we may draw the conclusion that the process of rejuvenescence, as described above, cannot be accepted either as the existing or the original meaning of conjugation, and the question naturally arises as to what other significance this latter process can have possessed at its first beginning.
Rolph[187] has expressed the opinion that conjugation is a form of nutrition, so that the two conjugating individuals, as it were, devour each other. Cienkowsky[188] also regards conjugation as merely ‘accelerated’ assimilation. There is, however, not only an essential difference but a direct contrast between the processes of conjugation and nutrition. With regard to Cienkowsky’s view, Hensen[189] has well said that ‘coalescence in itself cannot be an accelerated nutrition, because even if we admit that both individuals are in want of nourishment, it is impossible that the need can be supplied by this process, unless one of them perishes and is really devoured.’ In order that an animal may serve as the food of another, it must perish and must be brought into a fluid form, and finally it must be assimilated. In the case before us, however, two protoplasmic bodies are placed side by side and coalesce, without either of them passing into the liquid state. Two idioplasms unite, together with all the hereditary tendencies contained in them; but although it is certain that nutrition in the proper sense of the word cannot take place, because neither of the animals receives an addition of liquid food by the coalescence, yet the consequence of this process must be in one respect similar to that of nutrition and growth:—the mass of the body and the quantity of the forces contained in it undergo simultaneous increase. It is not inconceivable that effects are by this means rendered possible, which under the peculiar circumstances leading to conjugation, could not have been otherwise produced.
I believe that this is at any rate the direction in which we shall have to seek for the first meaning of conjugation and for its phyletic origin. This first result and meaning of conjugation may be provisionally expressed in the following formula:—conjugation originally signified a strengthening of the organism in relation to reproduction, which happened when from some external cause, such as want of oxygen, warmth, or food, the growth of the individual to the extent necessary for reproduction could not take place.
This explanation must not be regarded as equivalent to that afforded by the theory of rejuvenescence; for the latter process is said to be necessary for the continuance of reproduction, and ought therefore to occur periodically quite independently of external circumstances; while according to my theory, conjugation at first only occurred under unfavourable conditions, and assisted the species to overcome such difficulties.
But whatever the original meaning of conjugation may have been, it seems to have become already subordinated in the higher Protozoa, as is indicated by the changes in the course taken by this process. The higher Protozoa when conjugating do not as a rule coalesce completely and permanently[190] in the manner followed by the lower Protozoa, and it seems to me possible, or even probable, that in the former the process has already gained the full significance of sexual reproduction, and is to be looked upon as a source of variability.
Whether this be so or not, I believe it is certain that sexual reproduction could not have been entirely abandoned at any period since the time when the Metazoa and Metaphyta first arose; for they derived this form of reproduction from their unicellular ancestors.
We know that organs and characters which have persisted through a long series of generations are transmitted with extreme tenacity, even when they have ceased to be of any direct use to their immediate possessors. The rudimentary organs in various animals, and not least in man, afford very strong proofs of the soundness of this conclusion. Another example has only recently been discovered in the sixth finger, which has been shown to exist in the human embryo[191], a part which has only been present in a rudimentary form ever since the origin of the Amphibia[192]. Superfluous organs become rudimentary very slowly, and enormous periods must elapse before they completely disappear, while the older a character is, the more firmly it becomes rooted in the organism. What I have above called the physical constitution of a species is based upon these facts, and upon them depend the tout ensemble of inherited characters, which are adapted to one another and woven together into a harmonious whole. It is this specific nature of an organism which causes it to respond to external influences in a manner different from that followed by any other organism, which prevents it from changing in any way except along certain definite lines of variation, although these may be very numerous. Furthermore these facts ensure that characters cannot be taken at random from the constitution of a species and others substituted for them. Such a variation as a mammal wanting the firm axis of the backbone is an impossibility, not only because the backbone is necessary as a support to the body, but chiefly because this structure has been inherited from times immemorial, and has become so impressed upon the mammalian organization that any variation so great as to threaten its very existence cannot now take place. The view here set forth of the origin of hereditary variability by amphigonic reproduction, makes it clear that an organism is in a state of continual oscillation only upon the surface, so to speak, while the fundamental parts of its constitution, which have been inherited from extremely remote periods, remain unaffected.
Thus sexual reproduction itself did not cease after it had existed in the form of conjugation through innumerable generations of the vast numbers of species which have been included under the Protozoa; it did not cease even when its original physiological significance had lost its importance, either completely or in part. This process, however, had come to possess a new significance which ensured its continuance, in the enormous advantage conferred on a species by the power of adapting itself to new conditions of life, a power which could only be preserved by means of this method of reproduction. The formation of new species which among the lower Protozoa could be achieved without amphigony, could only be attained by means of this process in the Metazoa and Metaphyta. It was only in this way that hereditary individual differences could arise and persist. It was impossible for amphigony to disappear, for each species in which it was preserved was necessarily superior to those which had lost it, and must have replaced them in the course of time; for the former alone could adapt itself to the ever-changing conditions of life, and the longer sexual reproduction endured, the more firmly was it necessarily impressed upon the constitution of the species, and the more difficult its disappearance became.
Sexual reproduction has nevertheless been lost in some cases, although only at first in certain generations. Thus in the Aphidae and in many lower Crustacea, generations with parthenogenetic reproduction alternate with others which reproduce themselves by the sexual method. But in most cases it is clear that this partial loss of amphigony conferred considerable advantages upon the species by giving increased capabilities for the maintenance of existence. By means of partial parthenogenesis a much more rapid increase in the number of individuals could be attained in a given time, and this fact is of the highest importance for the peculiar circumstances under which these species exist. A species of Crustacean which inhabits rapidly drying pools, and developes from winter-eggs which have remained dried up in the mud, has, as a rule, only a very short time in which to secure the existence of succeeding generations. The few sexual eggs which have escaped the attacks of numerous enemies develope immediately after the first shower of rain; the animals attain their full size in a few days and reproduce themselves as virgin females. Their descendants are propagated in the same manner, and thus in a short time almost incredible numbers of individuals are formed, until finally the sexual eggs are again produced. If now the pool dries up again, the existence of the colony is secured, for the number of animals which produce sexual eggs is very large, and the eggs themselves are of course far more numerous, so that in spite of the destructive agencies to which they are subjected, there will be every chance of the survival of a sufficient number to produce a new generation at a later period. Here, therefore, sexual reproduction has not been abandoned accidentally or from any internal cause, but as an adaptation to certain definite necessities imposed upon the organism by its surroundings.
It is, however, well known that there are certain instances in which sexual reproduction has been altogether lost, and in which parthenogenesis is the only form of propagation. In the animal kingdom, such a condition chiefly occurs in species of which the closely-allied forms exhibit the above-mentioned alternation between parthenogenesis and amphigony, viz. in many Cynipidae and Aphidae, and also in certain freshwater and marine Crustacea. We may imagine that these parthenogenetic species have arisen from forms with alternating methods of reproduction, by the disappearance of the sexual phase.
In any particular case, it may be difficult to point out the motive by which this change has been determined; but it is most probable that the same conditions which originally caused the intercalation of a parthenogenetic stage have been efficient in causing the gradual disappearance of the sexual stage. If a species of Crustacean, with the above-described alternating method of reproduction (heterogeny), were killed off by its enemies on a larger scale than before, it is obvious that the threatened extinction of the species could be checked by the attainment of a correspondingly greater degree of fertility. Such increased fertility might well be produced by pure parthenogenesis (see Appendix V, p. 323), by means of which the number of egg-producing individuals in all the previous sexual generations would be doubled.
In a certain sense, this would be the last and most extreme method by means of which a species might secure continued existence, for it is a method for which it would have to pay very dearly at a later period. If my theory as to the causes of hereditary individual variability be correct, it follows that all species with purely parthenogenetic reproduction are sure to die out; not, indeed, because of any failure in meeting the existing conditions of life, but because they are incapable of transforming themselves into new species, or, in fact, of adapting themselves to any new conditions. Such species can no longer be subject to the process of natural selection, because, with the disappearance of sexual reproduction, they have also lost the power of combining and increasing those hereditary individual characters which they possess.
All the facts with which we are acquainted confirm this conclusion, for whole groups of purely parthenogenetic species or genera are never met with, as would certainly be the case if parthenogenesis had been the only method of reproduction through a successional series of species. We always find it in isolated instances, and under conditions which compel the conclusion that it has become predominant in the species in question, and has not been transmitted from any preceding species.
There still remains a very different class of facts which, so far as we can judge, are in accordance with my theory as to the significance of sexual reproduction, and which may be quoted in its support. I refer to the condition of functionless organs in species with parthenogenetic reproduction.
Under the supposition that acquired characters cannot be transmitted—and this forms the foundation of the views here set forth—organs which are of no further use cannot become rudimentary in the direct and simple manner in which it has been hitherto imagined that degeneration takes place. It is true that an organ which does not perform any function exhibits a marked decrease of strength and perfection in the individual which possesses it, but such acquired degradation is not transmitted to its descendants, and we must therefore look for some other explanation of the firmly established fact that organs do become rudimentary through a series of generations. In seeking this explanation, we shall have to start from the supposition that new forms are not only created by natural selection, but are also preserved by its means. In order that any part of the body of an individual of any species may be kept at the maximum degree of development, it is necessary that all individuals possessing it in a less perfect form must be prevented from propagation—they must succumb in the struggle for existence. I will illustrate this by a special instance. In species which, like the birds of prey[193], depend for food upon the acuteness of their vision, all individuals with relatively weak eyesight must be exterminated, because they will fail in the competition for food. Such birds will perish before they have reproduced themselves, and their imperfect vision is not further transmitted. In this way the keen eyesight of birds of prey is kept up to its maximum.
But as soon as an organ becomes useless, the continued selection of individuals in which it is best developed must cease, and a process which I have termed panmixia takes place. When this process is in operation, not only those individuals with the best-developed organs have the chance of reproducing themselves, but also those individuals in which the organs are less well-developed. Hence follows a mixture of all possible degrees of perfection, which must in the course of time result in the deterioration of the average development of the organ. Thus a species which has retired into dark caverns must necessarily come to gradually possess less developed powers of vision; for defects in the structure of the eyes, which occur in consequence of individual variability, are not eliminated by natural selection, but may be transmitted and fixed in the descendants[194]. This result is all the more likely to happen, inasmuch as other organs which are of importance for the life of the species will gain what the functionless organ loses in size and nutrition. As at each stage of retrogressive transformation individual fluctuations always occur, a continued decline from the original degree of development will inevitably, although very slowly, take place, until the last remnant finally disappears. How inconceivably slowly this process goes on is shown by the numerous cases of rudimentary organs: by the above-mentioned embryonic sixth finger of man, or by the hind limbs of whales buried beneath the surface of the body, or by their embryonic tooth-germs. I believe that the very slowness with which functionless organs gradually disappear, agrees much better with my theory than with the one which has been hitherto held. The result of the disuse of an organ is considerable, even in the course of a single individual life, and if only a small fraction of such a result were transmitted to the descendants, the organ would be necessarily reduced to a minimum, in a hundred or at any rate in a thousand generations. But how many millions of generations may have elapsed since e. g. the teeth of the whalebone whales became useless, and were replaced by whalebone! We do not know the actual number of years, but we know that the whole material of the tertiary rocks has been derived from the older strata, deposited in the sea, elevated, and has been itself largely removed by denudation, since that time.
Now if this theory as to the causes of deterioration in disused organs be correct, it follows that rudimentary organs can only occur in species with sexual reproduction, and that they cannot be formed in species which are exclusively reproduced by the parthenogenetic method: for, according to my theory, variability depends upon sexual reproduction, while the deterioration of an organ when disused, no less than its improvement when in use, depends upon variability. There are therefore two reasons which lead us to expect that organs which are no longer used will remain unreduced in species with asexual reproduction: first, because only a very slight degree of hereditary variability can be present, viz. such a degree as was transmitted from the time when sexual reproduction was first abandoned by the ancestors; and, secondly, because even these slight degrees of variability are not combined, or, in other words, because panmixia cannot occur.
And the facts seem to point in the direction required by the theory, for superfluous organs do not become rudimentary in parthenogenetic species. For example, as far as my experience goes, the receptaculum seminis does not deteriorate, although it is, of course, altogether functionless when parthenogenesis has become established. I do not attach much importance to the fact that the Psychids and Solenobias—(genera of Lepidoptera which Siebold and Leuckart have shown to include species with parthenogenetic reproduction)—still retain the complete female sexual apparatus, because colonies containing males still occasionally occur in these species. Although the majority of colonies are now purely female, the occasional appearance of males points to the fact that the unisexuality of the majority cannot have been of very long duration. The process of transformation of the species from a bisexual into a unisexual form, only composed of females, is obviously incomplete, and is still in process of development. The case is similar with several species of Cynipidae, which reproduce by the parthenogenetic method. In these cases the occurrence of a very small proportion of males is the general rule, and is not confined to single colonies. Thus Adler[195] counted 7 males and 664 females in the common Cynips of the rose.
In some Ostracodes, on the other hand, the males appear to be entirely wanting: at least, I have tried in vain for years to discover them in any locality or at any time of the year[196].
Cypris vidua and Cypris reptans are such species. Now, although the transformation of these formerly bisexual species into purely unisexual female species appears to be complete[197], yet the females still possess a large, pear-shaped receptaculum seminis, with its long spirally twisted duct, which is surrounded by a thick glandular layer. This is the more remarkable as the apparatus is very complicated in the Ostracodes, and retrogressive changes could be therefore easily detected. Furthermore among insects, in the genus Chermes the receptaculum seminis of the females has also remained unreduced, although the males appear to be entirely wanting, or at least have never been found, in spite of the united efforts of several acute observers[198]. The case is quite different in species which retain both sexual and parthenogenetic reproduction. Thus, the summer females of the Aphidae have lost the receptaculum seminis; and in these insects sexual reproduction has not ceased, but alternates regularly with parthenogenetic reproduction.
Certainly this proof of the truth of my theory as to the significance of sexual reproduction is far from settling the question: it only renders the theory highly probable. At present it is impossible to do more than this, because we do not yet possess a sufficient number of facts, for many of them could not have been sought for until after the theory had been suggested. We are here concerned with complicated phenomena, into which we cannot acquire an immediate insight, but can only attain it gradually.
But, nevertheless, I hope to have shown that the theory of natural selection is by no means incompatible with the theory of ‘the continuity of the germ-plasm;’ and, further, that if we accept this latter theory, sexual reproduction appears in an entirely new light: it has received a meaning, and has to a certain extent become intelligible.
The time in which men believed that science could be advanced by the mere collection of facts has long passed away: we know that it is not necessary to accumulate a vast number of miscellaneous facts, or to make as it were a catalogue of them; but we know that it is necessary to establish facts which, when grouped together in the light of a theory, will enable us to acquire a certain degree of insight into some natural phenomenon. In order to direct our attention to those new facts which are of immediate importance, it is absolutely necessary to seek the aid of some general theory for the arrangement and grouping of those which we already possess. This has been my object in the present paper.
But it may be perhaps objected that these phenomena are far too complicated to be attacked at the present time, and that we ought to wait quietly until the simpler phenomena have been resolved into their components. It may be asked whether the trouble and labour involved in the attempt to solve such questions as heredity or the transformation of species are not likely to be wasted and useless.
It is true that we sometimes meet with such opinions, but I believe that they are based upon a misunderstanding of the method which mankind has always followed in the investigation of nature, and which must therefore be founded upon the necessary relations existing between mankind and nature.
Science has often been compared to an edifice which has been solidly built by laying stone upon stone, until it has gradually risen to greater height and perfection. This comparison holds good up to a certain point, but it leads us to easily overlook the fact that this metaphorical building does not at any point rest upon the ground, and that, at least up to the present time, it has remained floating in the air. Not a single branch of science, not even Physics itself, has commenced building from below; all branches have begun to build at greater or less heights in the air, and have then built downwards: and even Physics has not yet reached the ground, for it is still very uncertain as to the nature of matter and force. In no single group of phenomena can we begin with the investigation of ultimate causes, because at this very point our means of reasoning stop short. We cannot begin with ultimate phenomena and gradually lead up to those which are more complicated: we cannot proceed synthetically and deductively, building up the phenomena from below; but we must as a rule proceed analytically and inductively, proceeding from above downwards.
No one will dispute these statements, but they are often forgotten, as is proved by the above-mentioned objection. If we were only permitted to attack the more complicated phenomena after gaining a complete insight into the simpler ones, then all scientists would be physicists and chemists, and not until Physics and Chemistry were done with should we be permitted to proceed to the investigation of organic nature. Under these circumstances we ought not to possess now any scientific theory of medicine; for the study of pathological physiology could not be commenced until normal physiology was completely known and understood. Yet how great a debt is owing by normal to pathological physiology! This is an example which enforces the conclusion that it is not only permissible, but in the highest degree advantageous, for the different spheres of phenomena to be attacked simultaneously.
Furthermore, if we had been compelled to proceed from the simple to the complex, what would have become of the Theory of Descent, the influence of which has advanced our knowledge of Biology to an altogether immeasurable extent?
But in this often repeated criticism that we are not yet ready to attack such complicated phenomena as heredity, is hidden still another fallacy, for it is implied that facts become less certain in proportion to the complexity of their causes. But is it less certain that the egg of an eagle developes into an eagle, or that the peculiarities of the father and mother are transmitted to the child, than that a stone falls to the ground when its support is taken away? Again, is it not possible to draw a perfectly distinct and certain conclusion as to the relative quantity of the material basis of heredity, present in the germ-cells of either parent, from the fact that the father and mother possess an equal or nearly equal share in heredity? But it is really unnecessary to argue in this way: why should we do more than re-affirm that such a method of procedure in scientific investigation is the only way by which we can gradually penetrate the hidden depths of natural phenomena?
No! Biology is not obliged to wait until Physics and Chemistry are completely finished; nor have we to wait for the investigation of the phenomena of heredity until the physiology of the cell is complete. Instead of comparing the progress of science to a building, I should prefer to compare it to a mining operation, undertaken in order to open up a freely branching lode. Such a lode must not be attacked from one point alone, but from many points simultaneously. From some of these we should quickly reach the deep-seated parts of the lode, from others we should only reach its superficial parts; but from every point some knowledge of the complex tout ensemble of the lode would be gained. And the more numerous the points of attack, the more complete would be the knowledge acquired, for valuable insight will be obtained in every place where the work is carried on with discretion and perseverance.
But discretion is indispensable for a fruitful result; or, leaving our metaphor, facts must be connected together by theories, if science is to advance. Just as theories are valueless without a firm basis of facts, so the mere collection of facts, without relation and without coherence, is utterly valueless. Science is impossible without hypotheses and theories: they are the plummets with which we test the depth of the ocean of unknown phenomena, and thus determine the future course to be pursued on our voyage of discovery. They do not give us absolute knowledge, but they afford us as much insight as it is possible for us to gain at the present time. To go on investigating without the guidance of theories, is like attempting to walk in a thick mist without a track and without a compass. We should get somewhere under these circumstances, but chance alone would determine whether we should reach a stony desert of unintelligible facts or a system of roads leading in some useful direction; and in most cases chance would decide against us.
In this sense I trust that the sign-post or compass which I offer may be accepted. Even though it should be its fate to be replaced by a better one at a later period, it will have fulfilled its object if it enables science to advance for even a short distance.
Footnotes for Essay V.
176. C. Nägeli, ‘Mechanisch-physiologische Theorie der Abstammungslehre.’ München u. Leipzig, 1884.
177. ‘Ueber die Berechtigung der Darwin’schen Theorie.’ Leipzig, 1868, p. 27.
178. l. c., Preface, p. vi.
179. Since the above was written many other morphological peculiarities of plants have been rightly explained as adaptations. Compare, for instance, the investigations of Stahl on the means by which plants protect themselves against the attacks of snails and slugs (Jena, 1888).—A. W., 1888.
180. l. c., pp. 117, 286.
181. Compare the second and fourth of the preceding Essays, ‘On Heredity’ and ‘The Continuity of the Germ-plasm as the Foundation of a Theory of Heredity.’
182. Compare Rauber, ‘Homo sapiens ferus oder die Zustände der Verwilderten.’ Leipzig, 1885.
183. ‘Sitzungsberichte der baierischen Akademie der Wissenschaften,’ vom 18 Nov. 1865. Compare also his ‘Mechanisch-physiologische Theorie der Abstammungslehre,’ p. 102, etc.
184. Jordan, ‘Remarques sur le fait de l’existence en société des espèces végétales affines.’ Lyon, 1873.
185. S. Hermann’s ‘Handbuch der Physiologie,’ Theil II; ‘Physiologie der Zeugung,’ by V. Hensen.
186. E. van Beneden, ‘Recherches sur la maturation de l’œuf, la fécondation et la division cellulaire.’ Gand u. Leipzig, 1883, pp. 404 et seq.
187. Rolph, ‘Biologische Probleme.’ Leipzig, 1882.
188. Cienkowsky, ‘Arch. f. mikr. Anat.,’ ix. p. 47. 1873.
189. Hensen, ‘Physiologie der Zeugung,’ p. 139.
190. Coalescence takes place in the so-called bud-like conjugation of Vorticellidae and Trichodinidae, etc.
191. Compare (1) Bardeleben, ‘Zur Entwicklung der Fusswurzel,’ Sitzungsber. d. Jen. Gesellschaft, Jahrg. 1885, Feb. 6; also ‘Verhandl. d. Naturforscherversammlung zu Strassburg,’ 1885, p. 203; (2) G. Baur, ‘Zur Morphologie des Carpus und Tarsus der Wirbelthiere,’ Zool. Anzeiger, 1885, pp. 326, 486.
192. In frogs the sixth toe exists in the hind legs as a rudimentary prehallux. Compare Born, Morpholog. Jahrbuch, Bd. I, 1876.
193. I here make use of the same illustration which I employed in my first attempt to explain the effects of panmixia. Compare the second Essay ‘On Heredity.’
194. [E. Ray Lankester has suggested (Encycl. Britann., art. ‘Zoology,’ pp. 818, 819) that the blindness of cave-dwelling and deep-sea animals is also due to the fact that ‘those individuals with perfect eyes would follow the glimmer of light and eventually escape to the outer air or the shallower depths, leaving behind those with imperfect eyes to breed in the dark place. A natural selection would thus be effected.’ Such a sifting process would certainly greatly quicken the rate of degeneration due to panmixia alone.—E. B. P.]
195. Adler, ‘Zeitschrift f. wiss. Zool.,’ Bd. XXXV, 1881.
196. Compare my paper, ‘Parthenogenese bei den Ostracoden,’ in ‘Zool. Anzeiger,’ 1880, p. 82. Purely negative evidence, unless on an immense scale, is quite rightly considered to be of no great value in most cases. But the condition of these animals renders the accumulation of such evidence unusually easy, because the presence of males in a colony of Ostracodes can be proved by a very simple indirect test. Thus if a colony contains any males the receptacula seminis of all mature females are filled with spermatozoa, and on the other hand we may be quite sure that males are absent, if after the examination of many mature females, no spermatozoa can be found in any of their receptacula.
197. We cannot, however, be absolutely certain of this, for it is conceivable that males may still occur in colonies other than those examined.
198. It has now been shown by Blochmann that males appear for a very short time towards the close of summer, as in the case of Phylloxera.—A. W., 1888.
APPENDICES.
When I describe Nägeli’s theory of transformation as due to active causes lying within the organism, as a phyletic force of transformation, I do not mean to imply that it is one of those mysterious principles which, according to some writers, constitute the unconscious cause which directs the transformation of species. Nägeli’s idioplasm, which changes from within itself, is conceived as a thoroughly scientific, mechanically operating principle. This cause is undoubtedly capable of theoretical conception: the only question is whether it has any real existence. According to Nägeli, the growing organic substance, the idioplasm, not only represents a perpetuum mobile rendered possible as long as its substance continually receives from without the matter and force which are necessary for continuous growth, but it also represents a perpetuum variabile due to the action of internal causes[200]. But this is just the doubtful point, viz., whether the structure of the idioplasm itself compels it to change gradually during the course of its growth, or whether it is not rather the external conditions which compel the ever slightly varying idioplasm to change in a certain direction by the summation of small differences. It has been shown above that we do not gain anything by adopting Nägeli’s theory, because the main problem which organic nature offers for our solution, viz. adaptation, remains unsolved. Hence this theory does not explain the phenomena of nature, and I believe that there are also certain facts which are directly antagonistic to it.
If the idioplasm really possessed the power of spontaneous variability ascribed to it by Nägeli; if, as a result of its own growth, it were compelled to undergo gradual changes, and thus to produce new species, we should expect that the duration of species, genera, orders, &c. would be of approximately equal length respectively, at least in forms of equal structural complexity. The time required by the idioplasm to undergo such changes as would constitute transformation into a new species ought to be always the same at equal heights in the scale of organization, that is, with equal complexity in the molecular structure of the idioplasm. It appears to me to be a necessary consequence of Nägeli’s theory that the causes of transformation lie solely in this molecular structure of the idioplasm. If nothing more than a certain amount of growth, and consequently a certain period of time during which the organism reproduces itself with a certain intensity, is required to produce a change in the idioplasm, then we must conclude that the alteration in the latter must take place when this certain amount of growth has been reached, or after this certain period has elapsed. In other words, the time during which a species exists—from its origin as a modification of some older species, until its own transformation into a new one—must be the same in species with the same degree of organization. But the facts are very far from supporting this consequence of Nägeli’s theory. The duration of species is excessively variable: many arise and perish within the limits of a single geological formation, while others may be restricted to a very small part of a formation; others again may last through several formations. It must be admitted that we cannot estimate the exact position of extinct species in the scale of organization, and the differences may therefore depend upon differences of organization: or they may be explained by the supposition that certain species may have become incapable of transformation, and might, under favourable conditions, continue to exist for an indefinite period. But this reply would introduce a new hypothesis in direct antagonism to Nägeli’s theory, which assumes that the variability of idioplasm takes place as the consequence of mere growth, and necessarily depends upon molecular structure. Nägeli himself asserts that the essential substance (idioplasm) of the descendants of the earliest forms of life is in a state of perpetual change, which would continue even if the series of successive generations were indefinitely prolonged[201]. Hence there can be no rest in the process of change which the idioplasm must undergo; and this is as true of each single species as it is of the organic world taken as a whole. We could, perhaps, find shelter in the insufficiency of our geological knowledge, but the number of ascertained facts is too great for this to be possible. Thus it is well known that the genus Nautilus has lasted from Silurian times, through all the three geological periods, up to the present day: while all its Silurian allies (Orthoceras, Gomphoceras, Goniatites, &c.) became extinct at a comparatively early period.
A keen and clever controversialist might still bring forward many objections against such an argument. I do not therefore place too much dependence upon the geological facts by themselves, as a disproof of the self-variability of Nägeli’s idioplasm; for it must be admitted that the facts are not sufficiently complete for this purpose. For instance, in the case of Nautilus it might be argued that we do not know anything about the fossil Cephalopods of pre-Silurian times, and that it is therefore possible that the above-mentioned allies of Nautilus may have existed previously for as long a period as that through which Nautilus has lived in post-Silurian time. However this may be, it will be at least conceded that the geological facts do not lend any support to Nägeli’s theory, for we can see no trace of even an approximately regular succession of forms.
In order to explain adaptation Nägeli assumes that, under certain circumstances, external influences may cause slight permanent changes in the idioplasm. If then such influences act continually in the same direction during long periods of time, the changes in the idioplasm may increase to a perceptible amount, i. e. to a degree which makes itself felt in visible external characters[203]. But such changes alone could not be considered as adaptations, for the essential character of an adaptation is that it must be a purposeful change. Nägeli, however, brings forward the fact that external stimuli often produce their chief effects at that very part of the organism to which the stimuli themselves were applied. ‘If the results are detrimental, the organism attempts to defend itself against the stimulus: a confluence of nutrient fluid takes place towards the part upon which the stimulus has acted, and new tissues are formed which restore the integrity of the organism by replacing the lost structures as far as possible. Thus in plants the healthy tissues begin to grow actively around the seat of an injury, tending to close it up, and to afford protection by impenetrable layers of cork.’ Purposeful reactions of this kind are certainly common in the organic world, occurring in animals as well as in plants. Thus in the human body an injury causes a rapid growth of the surrounding tissues, which leads to the closing-up of the wound; while in the Salamander even the amputated leg or tail is replaced by growth. An extreme example of these purposeful reactions is afforded by the tree-frog (Hyla), which is of a light-green colour when seated upon a light-green leaf, but becomes dark brown when transferred to dark surroundings. Hence this animal adapts itself to the colour of its environment, and thus gains protection from its enemies.
Admitting this capability on the part of organisms to react under certain stimuli in a purposeful manner, the question remains whether such a power is a primitive original quality belonging to the essential nature of each organism. The power of changing the colour of the skin in correspondence with that of the surroundings is not very common in the animal kingdom. In the frog this power depends upon a highly complex reflex mechanism. Certain chromatophores in the skin are connected with nerves[204] which pass to the brain and are there brought into relation, by means of nerve-cells, with the nervous centres of the organ of vision. The relation is of such a kind that strong light falling upon the retina constitutes a stimulus for the production of an impulse, which is conducted, along the previously mentioned motor nerves, from the brain to the chromatophores, thus determining the contraction of these latter and the consequent appearance of a light-coloured skin. When the strong stimulus (of light) ceases, the chromatophores expand again, and the skin becomes dark. That the chromatophores do not themselves react upon the direct stimulus of light was proved by Lister[205], who showed that blind frogs do not possess the power of altering their colour in correspondence with that of their environment. It is quite obvious that in this case we are not dealing with a primary, but with a secondarily produced character; and it has yet to be proved that all the purposeful reactions mentioned by Nägeli are not similarly secondary characters or adaptations, and thus very far from being primitive qualities of the organic substance of the forms in which they occur.
I do not by any means doubt that some of the reactions witnessed in organisms do not depend upon adaptation, but such reactions are not usually purposeful. Curiously enough, Nägeli mentions the formation of galls in plants among his instances of purposeful reactions under external stimuli. I think, however, that it can hardly be maintained that the galls are of any use to the plant: on the contrary, they may even be very injurious to it. The gall is only useful to the insect which it protects and supplies with food. The recent and most excellent investigations of Adler[206] and of Beyerinck[207] have shown that the puncture made by the Cynips in depositing its eggs is not the stimulus which produces the gall, as was formerly believed to be the case, but that such a stimulus is provided by the larva which developes from the egg. The presence of this small, actively moving, foreign body stimulates the tissue of the plant in a definite manner, always producing a result which is advantageous to the larva and not to the plant. It would be to the advantage of the latter if it killed the intruding larva, either enclosing it by woody tissue devoid of nourishment, or poisoning it by some acrid secretion, or simply crushing it by the active growth of the surrounding tissues. But nothing of the kind occurs: in fact an active growth of cells (forming the so-called ‘Blastem’ of Beyerinck) takes place around the embryo, while it is still enclosed in the egg-capsule; but the growth is not such as to crush the embryo, which remains free in the cavity, the so-called larval chamber, which is formed around it. It would be out of place to discuss here the question as to how we can conceive that the plant is thus compelled to produce a growth which is at any rate indifferent and may be injurious to it; and which, moreover, is exactly adapted to the needs of its insect-enemy. But it is at all events obvious that this cannot be an example of a self-protecting reaction under a stimulus, and that therefore an organism does not always respond to external stimuli in a manner useful to itself.
But even if we could accept the suggestion that the purposeful reaction of an organism under stimulation is a primary and not a secondarily produced character, such a principle would by no means suffice for the explanation of existing adaptations. Nägeli attempts to explain certain selected cases of adaptation as the direct results of external stimuli. He looks upon the thick hairy coat of mammals in arctic regions, and the winter covering of animals in temperate regions, as a direct reaction of the skin under the influence of cold. He considers that the horns, claws, and tusks of animals have arisen directly as reactions under stimuli applied to certain parts of the surface of the body in attack and defence[208]. This interpretation is similar to that offered by Lamarck at the beginning of this century. At first sight such a suggestion appears to be plausible, for the acquisition of a thick hairy covering by the mammals of temperate regions is actually contemporaneous with the cold season of the year. But the question arises as to whether the production of a larger number of hairs at the beginning of winter is not merely another instance of a secondary character, like the assumption of a green colour by the tree-frog under the stimulus exerted by strong light.
In the case of the hairy coat it is only necessary to produce a larger number of structures such as had existed previously; but how can it have been possible for the petals of flowers, with their peculiar and complex forms, to have been developed from stamens as a direct result of the insects which visit them in order to obtain pollen and nectar? How could the creeping of these insects and the small punctures made by them constitute stimuli for the production of an increased rate of growth? And how is it possible in any way to explain, by mere increase in growth, the origin of a structure in which each part has its own distinct meaning and plays a peculiar part in attracting insects and in the process of cross-fertilization effected by them? Even if the manifold peculiarities of form could be explained in this way, how can such an explanation possibly hold for the colours of flowers? How could the white colour of flowers which open at night be explained as the direct result of the creeping of insects? How can the suggestion of such a cause offer any interpretation of the fact that flowers which open by day are tinted with various colours, or of the fact that there is often a bright or highly coloured spot which shows the way to the hidden nectary?
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.’
No objection can be raised against these statements, but Nägeli goes on to say:—‘But how can such a process of development be explained by the theory of natural selection, for at each stage in the process the adaptation was invariably complete. The tube of the corolla and the “tongue” must have reached, for instance, at a certain time, a length of 5 or 10 mm. If now the tube of the corolla became longer in some plants, such an alteration would have been disadvantageous because the insects would be no longer able to obtain food from them, and would therefore visit flowers with shorter tubes. Hence, according to the theory of natural selection, the longer tubes ought to have disappeared. If on the other hand the “tongue” became longer in some insects, such a change would be superfluous and should have been given up, according to the same theory, as unnecessary structural waste. The simultaneous change in the two structures must, according to the theory of natural selection, be due to the same principle as that by which Münchhausen pulled himself out of a bog by means of his own pig-tail.’
But, according to the theory of natural selection, the case appears in a very different light from that in which it is put by Nägeli. The flower and the insect do not compete for the greater length of their respective organs: all through the gradual process, the flower is the first to lengthen its corolla and the butterfly follows. Their relation is not like that between a certain species of animal and another which serves as its prey, where each strives to be the quicker, so that the speed of both is increased to the greatest possible extent in the course of generations. Nor do they stand in the same relation as that obtaining between an insectivorous bird and a certain species of butterfly which forms its principal food; in such a case two totally different characters may be continually increased up to their highest point, e.g. in the butterfly similarity to the dead and fallen leaves among which it seeks protection when pursued, in the bird keenness of sight. As long as the latter quality is still capable of increase, so long will it still be advantageous to any individual butterfly to resemble the leaf a little more completely than other individuals of the same species; for it will thus be capable of escaping those birds which possess a rather keener sight than others. On the other hand, a bird with rather keener sight will have the greatest chance of catching the better protected butterflies. It is only in this way that we can explain the constant production of such extraordinary similarities between insects and leaves or other parts of plants. At every stage of growth both the insect and its pursuer are completely adapted to each other; i.e. they are so far protected and so far successful respectively, as is necessary to prevent that gradual decrease in the average number of individuals which would lead to the extermination of the species[211]. But the fact that there is complete adaptation at each stage does not prevent the two species from increasing those qualities of protection and of pursuit upon which they respectively depend. So far from this being the case, they would be necessarily compelled to gradually increase these qualities so long as the physical possibility of improvement remained on both sides. As long as some birds possessed a rather keener sight than those which previously existed, so long would those butterflies possess an advantage in which the resemblance to leaf-veining was more distinct than in others. But from the moment at which the maximum keenness of eyesight attainable had been reached, at which therefore all butterflies resembled leaves so completely that even the birds with the keenest eyesight might fail to detect them when at rest,—from this very point any further improvement in the similarity to leaves would cease, because the advantage to be gained from any such improvement would cease at the same time.
Such reciprocal intensification of adaptive characters appears to me to have been one of the most important factors in the transformation of species: it must have persisted through long series of species during phylogeny: it must have affected the most diverse parts and characters in the most diverse groups of organisms.
In certain large butterflies of the Indian and African forests—Kallima paralecta, K. inachis, and K. albofasciata—it has been frequently pointed out that the deceptive resemblance to a leaf is so striking that an observer who has received no hint upon the subject believes that he sees a leaf, even when he is looking at the butterfly very closely. The similarity is nevertheless incomplete; for out of sixteen specimens in the collections at Amsterdam and Leyden, I could not find a single one which had more than two lateral veins on one side of the mid-rib of the supposed leaf, or more than three upon the other side; while about six or seven veins should have been present on each side. But from two to three lateral veins are amply sufficient to produce a high degree of resemblance; in fact so much so that it is a matter for wonder as to how it has been possible for such a relatively perfect copy to have been produced; or how the sight of birds can have become so highly developed that while flying rapidly they could perceive the vein-like markings; or to state the case more accurately, that they could detect those individuals with a less number of veins than others. It is possible that the process of increase in resemblance is still proceeding in the species of the genus Kallima; at all events, I was struck by the rather strong individual differences in the markings of the supposed leaf.
On the other hand, the cause of the increase in length of the tubular corolla and of the butterfly’s ‘tongue,’ lies neither in the flower nor in the butterfly, but it is to be found in those other insects which visit the flower and steal its honey without being of any assistance in cross-fertilization. It may be stated shortly, that non-tubular corollas, with the honey freely exposed—for it must be assumed the ancestral form was of this kind—gradually developed into corollas with the honey deeply concealed. The whole process was presumably first started by the flower, for the gradual withdrawal of the honey to greater depths conferred the advantage of protection from rain (Hermann Müller), while larger quantities of honey could be stored up, and this would also increase the number of insects visiting the flower and render their visits more certain. As soon as this withdrawal occurred, the mouth-parts of insects began to be subjected to a selective process whereby these organs in some of them were lengthened at the same rate as that at which the honey was withdrawn. When once the process had begun, its continuance was ensured, for as soon as flower-frequenting insects were divided into two groups with short and with long mouth-parts respectively, a further increase in the length of the corolla-tube necessarily took place in all those flowers which were especially benefited by the assured visits of a relatively small number of species of insects, viz., those flowers in which cross-fertilization was more certainly performed in this way than by the uncertain visits of a great variety of species. This would imply that a still further increase in length would take place, for it is obvious that the cross-fertilization of any flower would be more certainly performed by an insect when the number of species of plants visited by it became less; and hence the cross-fertilization would be rendered most certain when the insect became completely adapted—in size, form, character of its surface, and the manner in which it obtained the honey—to the peculiarities of the flower. Those insects which obtain honey from a great variety of flowers are sure to waste a great part of the pollen by carrying it to the flowers of many different species, while insects which can only obtain honey from a few species of plants must necessarily visit many flowers of the same species one after the other, and they would therefore more generally distribute the pollen in an effective manner.
Hence the tube of the corolla, and the ‘tongue’ of the butterfly which brings about fertilization, would have continued to increase in length as long as it remained advantageous for the flower to exclude other less useful visitors, and as long as it was advantageous for the butterfly to secure the sole possession of the flower. Hence there is no competition between the flower and the butterfly which fertilizes it, but between these two on the one side, and the other would-be visitors of the flower on the other. Further details as to the advantages which the flower gains by excluding all other visitors, and the butterfly by being the only visitor of the flower, and also as to the manifold and elaborate mutual adaptations between insects and flowers, and as to the advantages and disadvantages which follow from the concealment of the honey—will be found in Hermann Müller’s[212] work on the fertilization of flowers, in which all these subjects are minutely discussed, and are clearly explained in a most admirable manner.