APPENDIX C.
[From the Transactions of the Linnean Society, vol. xxv.]
XV. On Circulation and the Formation of Wood in Plants. By Herbert Spencer, Esq. Communicated by George Busk, Esq., F.R.S., Sec. L.S.
Read March 1st, 1866.
Opinions respecting the functions of the vascular tissues in plants appear to make but little progress towards agreement. The supposition that these vessels and strings of partially-united cells, lined with spiral, annular, reticulated, or other frameworks, are carriers of the plant-juices, is objected to on the ground that they often contain air: as the presence of air arrests the movement of blood through arteries and veins, its presence in the ducts of stems and petioles is assumed to unfit them as channels for sap. On the other hand, that these structures have a respiratory office, as some have thought, is certainly not more tenable, since, if the presence of air in them negatives the belief that their function is to distribute liquid, the presence of liquid in them equally negatives the belief that their function is to distribute air. Nor can any better defence be made for the hypothesis which I find propounded, that these parts serve “to give strength to the parenchyma.” Tubes with fenestrated and reticulated internal skeletons have, indeed, some power of supporting the tissue through which they pass; but tubes lined with spiral threads can yield extremely little support, while tubes lined with annuli, or spirals alternating with annuli, can yield no support whatever. Though all these types of internal framework are more or less efficient for preventing closure by lateral pressure, they are some of them quite useless for holding up the mass through which the vessels pass; and the best of them are for this purpose mechanically inferior to the simple cylinder. The same quantity of matter made into a continuous tube would be more effective in giving stiffness to the cellular tissue around it.
In the absence of any feasible alternative, the hypothesis that these vessels are distributors of sap claims reconsideration. The objections are not, I think, so serious as they seem. The habitual presence of air in the ducts that traverse wood, can scarcely be held anomalous if when the wood is formed their function ceases. The canals which ramify through a Stag’s horn, contain air after the Stag’s horn is fully developed; but it is not thereby rendered doubtful whether it is the function of arteries to convey blood. Again, that air should frequently be found even in the vessels of petioles and leaves, will not appear remarkable when we call to mind the conditions to which a leaf is subject. Evaporation is going on from it. The thinner liquids pass by osmose out of the vessels into the tissues containing the liquids thickened by evaporation. And as the vessels are thus continually drained, a draught is made upon the liquid contained in the stem and roots. Suppose that this draught is unusually great, or suppose that around the roots there exists no adequate supply of moisture. A state of capillary tension must result—a tendency of the liquid to pass into the leaves resisted below by liquid cohesion. Now, had the vessels impermeable coats, only their upper extremities would under these conditions be slowly emptied. But their coats, in common with all the surrounding tissues, are permeable by air. Hence, under this state of capillary tension, air will enter; and as the upper ends of the tubes, being both smaller in diameter and less porous than the lower, will retain the liquids with greater tenacity, the air will enter the wider and more porous tubes below—the ducts of the stem and branches. Thus the entrance of air no more proves that these ducts are not sap-carriers, than does the emptiness of tropical river-beds in the dry season prove that they are not channels for water. There is, however, a difficulty which seems more serious. It is said that air, when present in these minute canals, must be a great obstacle to the movement of sap through them. The investigations of Jamin have shown that bubbles in a capillary tube resist the passage of liquid, and that their resistance becomes very great when the bubbles are numerous—reaching, in some experiments, as much as three atmospheres. Nevertheless the inference that any such resistance is offered by the air-bubbles in the vessels of a plant, is, I think, an erroneous one. What happens in a capillary tube having impervious sides, with which these experiments were made, will by no means happen in a capillary tube having pervious sides. Any pressure brought to bear on the column of liquid contained in the porous duct of a plant, must quickly cause the expulsion of a contained air-bubble through the minute openings in the coats of the duct. The greater molecular mobility of gases than liquids, implies that air will pass out far more readily than sap. Whilst, therefore, a slight tension on the column of sap will cause it to part and the air to enter, a slight pressure upon it will force out the air and reunite the divided parts of the column.
To obtain data for an opinion on this vexed question, I have lately been experimenting on the absorption of dyes by plants. So far as I can learn, experiments of this kind have most, if not all of them, been made on stems, and, as it would seem from the results, on stems so far developed as to contain all their characteristic structures. The first experiments I made myself were on such parts, and yielded evidence that served but little to elucidate matters. It was only after trying like experiments with leaves of different ages and different characters, and with undeveloped axes, as well as with axes of special kinds, that comprehensible results were reached; and it then became manifest that the appearances presented by ordinary stems when thus tested, are in a great degree misleading. Let me briefly indicate the differences.
If an adult shoot of a tree or shrub be cut off, and have its lower end placed in an alumed decoction of logwood or a dilute solution of magenta,[69] the dye will, in the course of a few hours, ascend to a distance varying according to the rate of evaporation from the leaves. On making longitudinal sections of the part traversed by it, the dye is found to have penetrated extensive tracts of the woody tissue; and on making transverse sections, the openings of the ducts appear as empty spaces in the midst of a deeply-coloured prosenchyma. It would thus seem that the liquid is carried up the denser parts of the vascular bundles; neglecting the cambium layer, neglecting the central pith, and neglecting the spiral vessels of the medullary sheath. Apparently the substance of the wood has afforded the readiest channel. When, however, we examine these appearances critically, we find reasons for doubting this conclusion. If a transverse section of the lower part, into which the dye passed first and has remained longest, be compared with a transverse section of the part which the dye has but just reached, a marked difference is visible. In the one case the whole of the dense tissue is stained; in the other case it is not. This uneven distribution of stain in the part which the dye has incompletely permeated is not at random; it admits of definite description. A tolerably regular continuous ring of colour distinguishes the outer part of the wood from the inner mass, implying a passage of liquid up the elongated cells next the cambium layer. And the inner mass is coloured more round the mouths of the pitted ducts than elsewhere: the dense tissue is darkest close to the edges of these ducts; the colour fades away gradually on receding from their edges; there is most colour where there are several ducts together; and the dense tissue which is fully dyed for some space, is that which lies between two or more ducts. These are indications that while the layer of pitted cells next the cambium has served as a channel for part of the liquid, the rest has ascended the pitted ducts, and oozed out of these into the prosenchyma around. And this conclusion is confirmed by the contrast between the appearances of the lowest part of a shoot under different conditions. For if, instead of allowing the dye time for oozing through the prosenchyma, the end of the shoot be just dipped into the dye and taken out again, we find, on making transverse sections of the part into which the dye has been rapidly taken up, that, though it has diffused to some distance round the ducts, it has left tracts of wood between the ducts uncoloured—a difference which would not exist had the ascent been through the substance of the wood. Even still stronger is the confirmation obtained by using one dye after another. If a shoot that has absorbed magenta for an hour be placed for five minutes in the logwood decoction, transverse sections of it taken at a short distance from its end show the mouths of the ducts surrounded by dark stains in the midst of the much wider red stains.
Based on these comparisons only, the inference pointed out has little weight; but its weight is increased by the results of experiments on quite young shoots, and shoots that develope very little wood. The behaviour of these corresponds perfectly with the expectation that a liquid will ascend capillary tubes in preference to simple cellular tissue or tissue not differentiated into continuous canals. The vascular bundles of the medullary sheath are here the only channels which the coloured liquid takes. In sections of the parts up to which the dye has but just reached, the spiral, fenestrated, scalariform, or other vessels contained in these bundles are alone coloured, and lower down it is only after some hours that such an exudation of dye takes place as suffices partially to colour the other substances of the bundle. Further, it is to be noted that at the terminations of shoots, where the vessels are but incompletely formed out of irregularly-joined fibrous cells which still retain their original shapes, the dye runs up the incipient vessels and does not colour in the smallest degree the surrounding tissue.
Experiments with leaves bring out parallel facts. On placing in a dye a petiole of an adult leaf of a tree, and putting it before the fire to accelerate evaporation, the dye will be found to ascend the mid-rib and veins at various rates, up even to a foot per hour. At first it is confined to the vessels; but by the time it has reached the point of the leaf, it will commonly be seen that at the lower part it has diffused itself into the sheaths of the vessels. In a quite young leaf from the same shoot, we find a much more rigorous restriction of the dye to the vessels. On making oblique sections of its petiole, mid-rib, and veins, the vessels have the appearance of groups of sharply defined coloured rods imbedded in the green prosenchyma; and this marked contrast continues with scarcely an appreciable change after plenty of time has been allowed for exudation.
The facts thus grouped and thus contrasted seem, at first sight, to imply that while they are young the coats of these ramifying canals lined with spiral or allied structures are not readily permeable, but that, becoming porous as they grow old, they allow the liquids they carry to escape with increasing facility; and hence a possible interpretation of the fact that, in the older parts, the staining of the tissue around the vessels is so rapid as to suggest that the dye has ascended directly through this tissue, whereas in the younger parts the reverse appearance necessitates the reverse conclusion. But now, is this difference determined by difference of age, or is it otherwise determined? The evidence as presented in ordinary stems and leaves shows us that the parts of the vascular system at which there is a rapid escape of dye are not simply older parts, but are parts where a deposit of woody matter is taking place. Is it, then, that the increasing permeability of the ducts, instead of being directly associated with their increasing age, is directly associated with the increasing deposit of dense substance around them?
To get proof that this last connexion is the true one, we have but to take a class of cases in which wood is formed only to a small extent. In such cases experiments show us a far more general and continued limitation of the dye to the vessels. Ordinary herbs and vegetables, when contrasted with shrubs and trees, illustrate this; as instance the petioles of Celery, or of the common Dock, and the leaves of Cabbages or Turnips. And then in very succulent plants, such as Bryophyllum calycinum, Kalanchoë rotundifolia, the various species of Crassula, Cotyledon, Kleinia, and others of like habit, the ducts of old and young leaves alike retain the dye very persistently: the concomitant in these cases being the small amount of prosenchyma around the ducts, or the small amount of deposit in it, or both. More conclusive yet is the evidence which meets us when we turn from very succulent leaves to very succulent axes. The tender young shoots of Kleinia ante-euphorbium, or Euphorbia Mauritanica, which for many inches of their lengths have scarcely any ligneous fibres, show us scarcely any escape of the coloured liquid from the vessels of the medullary sheath. So, too, is it with Stapelia Buffonia, a plant of another order, having soft swollen axes. And then we have a repetition of the like connexion of facts throughout the Cactaceæ: the most succulent showing us the smallest permeability of the vessels. In two species of Rhipsalis, in two species of Cereus, and in two species of Mammillaria, which I have tried, I have found this so. Mammillaria gracilis may be named as exemplifying the relation under its extreme form. Into one of these small spheroidal masses, the dye ascends through the large bundles of spiral or annular ducts, or cells partially united into such ducts, colouring them deeply, and leaving the feebly-marked sheath of prosenchyma, together with the surrounding watery cellular tissue, perfectly uncoloured.
The most conclusive evidence, however, is furnished by those Cactaceæ in which the transition from succulent to dense tissue takes place variably, according as local circumstances determine. Opuntia yields good examples. If a piece of it including one of the joints at which wood is beginning to form, be allowed to absorb a coloured liquid, the liquid, running up the irregular bundles of vessels and into many of their minute ramifications, is restricted to these where they pass through the parenchyma forming the mass of the stem; but near the joints the hardened tissue around the vessels is coloured. In one of these fleshy growths we get clear evidence that the escape of the dye has no immediate dependence on the age of the vessels, since, in parts of the stem that are alike in age, some of the vessels retain their contents while others do not. Nay, we even find that the younger vessels are more pervious than the older ones, if round the younger ones there is a formation of wood.
Thus, then, is confirmed the inference before drawn, that in ordinary stems the staining of the wood by an ascending coloured liquid is due, not to the passage of the coloured liquid up the substance of the wood, but to the permeability of its ducts and such of its pitted cells as are united into irregular canals. And the facts showing this, at the same time indicate with tolerable clearness the process by which wood is formed. What in these cases is seen to take place with a dye, may be fairly presumed to take place with sap. Where the dye exudes but slowly, we may infer that the sap exudes but slowly; and it is a fair inference that where the dye leaks rapidly out of the vessels, the sap does the same. Inferring, thus, that where-ever there is a considerable formation of wood there is a considerable escape of the sap, we see in the one the result of the other. The thickening of the prosenchyma is proportionate to the quantity of nutritive liquid passing into it; and this nutritive liquid passes into it from the vessels, ducts, and irregular canals it surrounds.
But an objection is made to such experiments as the foregoing, and to all the inferences drawn from them. It is said that portions of plants cut off and thus treated, have their physiological actions arrested, or so changed as may render the results misleading; and it is said that when detached shoots and leaves have their cut ends placed in solutions, the open mouths of their vessels and ducts are directly presented with the liquids to be absorbed, which does not happen in their natural states. Further, making these objections look serious, it is alleged that when solutions are absorbed through the roots, quite different results are obtained: the absorbed matters are found in the tissues and not in the vessels. Clearly, were the experiments yielding these adverse results conducted in unobjectionable ways, the conclusion implied by them would negative the conclusions above drawn. But these experiments are no less objectionable than those to which they are opposed. Such mineral matters as salts of iron, solutions of which have in some cases been supplied to the roots for their absorption, are obviously so unlike the matters ordinarily absorbed, that they are likely to interfere fatally with the physiological actions. If experiments of this kind are made by immersing the roots in a dye, there is, besides the difficulty that the mineral mordant contained by the dye is injurious to the plant, the further difficulty that the colouring matter, being seized by the substances for which it has an affinity, is left behind in the first layers of root-tissues passed through, and that the decolorized water passing up into the plant is not traceable. To be conclusive, then, an experiment on absorption through roots must be made with some solution which will not seriously interfere with the plant’s vital processes, and which will not have its distinctive element left behind. To fulfil these requirements I adopted the following method. Having imbedded a well-soaked broad-bean in moist sand, contained in an inverted cone of cardboard with its apex cut off for the radicle to come through—having placed this in a wide-mouthed dwarf bottle, partly filled with water, so that the protruding radicle dipped into the water—and having waited until the young bean had a shoot some three or more inches high, and a cluster of secondary rootlets from an inch to an inch and a-half long—I supplied for its absorption a simple decoction of logwood, which, being a vegetal matter, was not likely to do it much harm, and which, being without a mordant, would not leave its suspended colour in the first tissues passed through. To avoid any possible injury, I did not remove the plant from the bottle, but slightly raising the cone out of its neck, I poured away the water through the crevice and then poured in the logwood decoction; so that there could have been no broken end or abraded surface of a rootlet through which the decoction might enter. Being prepared with some chloride of tin as a mordant, I cut off, after some three hours, one of the lowest leaves, expecting that the application of the mordant to the cut surface would bring out the characteristic colour if the logwood decoction had risen to that height. I got no reaction, however. But after eight hours I found, on cutting off another leaf, that the vessels of its petiole were made visible as dark streaks by the colour with which they were charged—a colour differing, as was to be expected, from that of the logwood decoction, which spontaneously changes even by simple exposure. It was then too late in the day to pursue the observations; but next morning the vessels of the whole plant, as far as the petioles of its highest unfolded leaves, were full of the colouring matter; and on applying chloride of tin to the cut surfaces, the vessels assumed that purplish red which this mordant produces when directly mixed with the logwood decoction. Subsequently, when one of the cotyledons was cut open by Prof. Oliver, to whom, in company with Dr. Hooker, I showed the specimen, we found that the whole of its vascular system was filled with the decoction, which everywhere gave the characteristic reaction. And it became manifest that the liquid absorbed through the rootlets, in the central vessels of which it was similarly traceable, had part of it passed directly up the vessels of the axis, while part of it had passed through other vessels into the cotyledon, out of which, no doubt, the liquid ordinarily so carried returns charged with a supply of the stored nutriment. I have since obtained a verification by varying the method. Digging up some young plants (Marigolds happened to afford the best choice) with large masses of soil round them, placing them in water, so as gradually to detach the soil without injuring the rootlets, planting them afresh in a flower-pot full of washed sand, and then, after a few days, watering them with a logwood decoction, I found, as before, that in less than twenty-four hours the colouring matter had run up into the vessels of the leaves. Though the reaction produced by the mordant was not so strong as before, it was marked enough to be quite unquestionable.
As these experiments were so conducted that there was no access to the vessels except through the natural channels, and as the vital actions of the plants were so little interfered with that at the end of twenty-four hours they showed no traces of disturbance, I think the results must be held conclusive.
Taking it, then, as a fact that in plants possessing them the vessels and ducts are the channels through which sap is distributed, we come now to the further question—What determines the varying permeability of the walls of the vessels and ducts, and the consequent varying formation of wood? To this question I believe the true reply is—The exposure of the parts to intermittent mechanical strains, actual or potential, or both. By actual strains I of course mean those which the plant experiences in the course of its individual life. By potential strains I mean those which the form, attitude, and circumstances common to its kind involve, and which its inherited structure is adapted to meet. In plants with stems, petioles, and leaves, having tolerably constant attitudes, the increasing porosity of the tubes and consequent deposit of dense tissue takes place in anticipation of the strains to which the parts of the individual are liable, but takes place at parts which have been habitually subject to such strains in ancestral individuals. But though in such plants the tendency to repeat that distribution of dense tissue caused by mechanical actions on past generations, goes on irrespective of the mechanical actions to which the developing individual is subject, these direct actions, while they greatly aid the assumption of the typical structure, are the sole causes of those deviations in the relative thickenings of parts which distinguish the individual from others of its kind. And then, in certain irregularly growing plants, such as Cactuses and Euphorbias, where the strains fall on parts that do not correspond in successive individuals, we distinctly trace a direct relation between the degrees of strain and the rates of these changes which result in dense tissue. I will not occupy space in detailing the evidence of this relation, which is conspicuous in the orders named, but will pass to the question—What are the physical processes by which intermittent mechanical strains produce this deposit of resistant substance at places where it is needed to meet the strains? We have not to seek far for an answer. If a trunk, a bough, a shoot, or a petiole, is bent by a gust of wind, the substance of its convex side is subject to longitudinal tension: the substance of its concave side being at the same time compressed. This is the primary mechanical effect. There is, however, a secondary mechanical effect, which here chiefly concerns us. That bend by which the tissues of the convex side are stretched, also produces lateral compression of them. Buttoning on a tight glove and then closing the hand, will make this necessity clear: the leather, while it is strained along the backs of the fingers, presses with considerable force on the knuckles. It is demonstrable that the tensions of the outer layer of a mass made convex by bending, must, by composition of forces, produce at every point a resultant at right angles to the layer beneath it; that, similarly, the joint tensions of these two layers must throw a pressure on the next deeper layer; and so on. Hence, if at some little distance beneath the surface of a stem, twig, or leaf-stalk, there exist longitudinal tubes, these tubes must be squeezed each time the side of the branch they are placed on becomes convex. Modifying the illustration just drawn from the clenched hand will make this clear. When, on forcibly grasping something, the skin is drawn tightly over the back of the hand, the whitening of the knuckles shows how the blood is expelled from the vessels below the surface by the pressure of the tightened skin. If, then, the sap-vessels must be thus compressed, what will happen to the liquid they contain? It will move away along the lines of least resistance. Part, and probably the greater part, will escape lengthways from the place of greatest pressure: some of it being expelled downwards, and some of it upwards. But, at the same time, part of it will be likely to ooze through the walls of the tubes. If these walls are so perfect as to permit the passage of liquid only by osmose, it may still be inferred that the osmose will increase under pressure; and probably, under recurrent pressure, the places at which the osmotic current passes most readily will become more and more permeable, until they eventually form pores. At any rate it is manifest that where pores and slits exist, whether thus formed or formed in any other way, the escape of sap into the adjacent tissue at each bend will become easy and rapid. What further must happen? When the branch or shoot recoils, the vessels on the side that was convex, being relieved from pressure, will tend to resume their previous diameters; and will be helped to do this by the elasticity of the surrounding tissue, as well as by those spiral, annular, and allied structures which they contain. But this resumption of their previous diameters must cause an immediate rush of sap back into them. Whence will it come? Not to any considerable extent from the surrounding tissues into which part of it has been squeezed, seeing that the resistance to the return of liquid through small pores will be greater than the resistance to its return along the vessels themselves. Manifestly the sap which was thrust up and down the vessels from the place of compression will return—the quantities returning from above and from below varying, as we shall hereafter see, according to circumstances. But this is not all. From some side a greater quantity must come back than was sent away; for the amount that has escaped out of the tube into the prosenchyma has to be replaced. Thus during the time when the side of the branch or twig becomes concave, more sap returns from above or below than was expelled upwards or downwards during the previous compression. The refilled vessels, when the next bend renders their side convex, again have part of their contents forced through their parietes, and are again refilled in the same way. There is thus set up a draught of sap to the place where these intermittent strains are going on, an exudation proportionate to the frequency and intensity of the strains, and a proportionate nutrition or thickening of the wood-cells, fitting them to resist the strains. A rude idea of this action may be obtained by grasping in one hand a damp sponge, having its lower end in water, while holding a piece of blotting-paper in contact with its upper end, and then giving the sponge repeated squeezes. At each squeeze some of the water will be sent into the blotting-paper; at each relaxation the sponge will refill from below, to give another portion of its contents to the blotting-paper when again squeezed.
But how does this explanation apply to roots? If the formation of wood is due to intermittent transverse strains, such as are produced in the aërial parts of upright plants by the wind, how does it happen that woody matter is deposited in roots, where there are no lateral oscillations, no transverse strains? The answer is, that longitudinal strains also are capable of causing the effects described. It is true that perfectly straight fibres united into a bundle and pulled lengthways would not exert on one another any lateral pressure, and would not laterally compress any similarly-straight canals running along with them. But if the fibres united into a bundle are variously bent or twisted, they cannot be longitudinally strained without compressing one another and structures imbedded in them. It needs but to watch a wet rope drawn tight by a capstan, to see that an action like that which squeezes the water out of its strands, will squeeze the sap out of the vessels of a root into the surrounding tissue, as often as the root is pulled by the swaying of the plant it belongs to. Here, too, as before, the vessels will refill when the pull intermits; and so, in the roots as in the branches, this rude pumping process will produce a growth of hard tissue proportionate to the stress to be borne.
These conclusions are supported by the evidence which exceptional cases supply. If intermittent mechanical strains thus cause the formation of wood where wood is found, then where it is not found, there should be an absence of intermittent mechanical strains. There is such an absence. Vascular plants characterized by little or no deposit of dense substance, are those having vessels so conditioned that no considerable pressures are borne by them. The more succulent a petiole or leaf becomes, the more do the effects of transverse strains fall on its outer layers of cells. Its mechanical support is chiefly derived from the ability of these minute vesicles, full of liquid, to resist bursting and tearing under the compressions and tensions they are exposed to. And just as fast as this change from a thin leaf or foot-stalk to a thick one entails increasing stress on the superficial tissue, so fast does it diminish the stress on the internally-seated vascular tissue. The succulent leaf cannot be swayed about by the wind as much as an ordinary leaf; and such small bends as can be given to it and its foot-stalk are prevented from affecting in any considerable degree the tubes running through its interior. Hence the retentiveness of the vessels in these fleshy leaves, as shown by the small exudation of dye; and hence the small thickening of their surrounding prosenchyma by woody deposit. Still more conspicuously is this connexion of facts shown when, from the soft thick leaves before named and such others as those of Echeveria, Rochea, Pereskia, we turn to the thick leaves that have strong exo-skeletons. Gasteria serves as an illustration. The leathery or horny skin here evidently bears the entire weight of the leaf, and is so stiff as to prevent any oscillation. Here, then, the vessels running inside are protected from all mechanical stress; and accordingly we find that the cells surrounding them are not appreciably thickened.
Equally clear, and more striking because more obviously exceptional, is the evidence given by succulent stems which are leafless. Stapelia Buffonia, having soft procumbent axes not liable to be bent backwards and forwards in any considerable degree by the wind, has, ramifying through its tissue, vessels that allow but an extremely slow escape of dye and have unthickened sheaths. Such of the Euphorbias as have acquired the fleshy character while retaining the arborescent growth, like Euphorbia Canariensis, teach us the same truth in another way. In them the formation of wood around the vessels is inconspicuous where the intermittent strains are but slight; but it is conspicuous at those joints on which lateral oscillations of the attached branches throw great extensions and compressions of tissue. Throughout the Cactaceæ we find varied examples of the alleged relation. Mammillaria furnishes a very marked one. The substance of one of these globular masses, resting on the ground, admits of no bending from side to side; and accordingly its large bundles of spiral and annular vessels, or partially-united cells, have very feebly-marked sheaths not at all thickened. In such types as Cereus and Opuntia we see, as in the Euphorbias, that where little stress falls on the vessels, little deposit takes place around them; while there is much deposit where there is much stress. Here let me add a confirmation obtained since writing the above. After observing among the Cactuses the very manifest relation between strain and the formation of wood, I inquired of Mr. Croucher, the intelligent foreman of the Cactus-house at Kew, whether he found this relation a constant one. He replied that he did, and that he had frequently tested it by artificially subjecting parts of them to strains. Neglecting at the time to inquire how he had done this, it afterwards occurred to me that if he had so done it as to cause constant strains, the observed result would not tell in favour of the foregoing interpretation. Subsequently, however, I learned that he had produced the strains by placing the plants in inclined attitudes—a method which, by permitting oscillations of the strained joints, allowed the strains to intermit. And then, making the proof conclusive, Mr. Croucher volunteered the statement that where he had produced constant strains by tying, no formation of wood took place.
Aberrant growths of another class display the same relations of phenomena. Take first the underground stems, such as the Potato and the Artichoke. The vessels which run through these, slowly take up the dye without letting it pass to any considerable extent into the surrounding tissues.[70] Only after an interval of many hours does the prosenchyma become stained in some places. Here, as before, an absence of rapid exudation accompanies an absence of woody deposit; and both these go along with the absence of intermittent strains. Take again the fleshy roots. The Turnip, the Carrot, and the Beetroot, have vessels that retain very persistently the coloured liquids they take up. And differing in this, as these roots do, from ordinary roots, we see that they also differ from them in not being woody, and in not being appreciably subject to the usual mechanical actions. In these cases, as in the others, parts that ordinarily become dense, deviate from this typical character when they are not exposed to those forces which produce dense tissue by increasing the extravasation of sap.
To complete the proof that such a relation exists, let me add the results of some experiments on equal and similarly-developed parts, kept respectively at rest and in motion. I have tested the effects on large petioles, on herbaceous shoots, and on woody shoots. If two such petioles as those of Rhubarb, with their leaves attached, have their cut ends inserted in bottles of dye, and the one be bent backwards and forwards while the other remains motionless, there arises, after the lapse of an hour, scarcely any difference in the states of their vessels: a certain proportion of these are in both cases charged with the dye, and little exudation has been produced by the motion. Here, however, it is to be observed that the causes of exudation are scarcely operative; the vascular bundles are distributed all through the mass of the petiole, which is formed of soft watery tissue; and they are, therefore, not so circumstanced as to be effectually compressed by the bends. In herbaceous stems, such as those of the Jerusalem Artichoke and of the Foxglove, an effect scarcely more decided is produced; and here, too, when we seek a reason, we find it in the non-fulfilment of the mechanical conditions; for the vascular bundles are not so seated between a tough layer of bark and a solid core as to be compressed at each bend. When, however, we come to experiment upon woody shoots, we meet with conspicuous effects, though by no means uniformly. In some cases oscillations produce immense amounts of exudation—parallel transverse sections of the compared shoots showing that where, in the one that has been at rest, there are spots of colour round but a few pitted ducts, in the one that has been kept in motion the substance of the wood is soaked almost uniformly through with dye. In other cases, especially where there is much undifferentiated tissue remaining, the exudation is not very marked. The difference appears to depend on the quantity of liquid contained in the shoot. If its substance is relatively dry, the exudation is great; but it is comparatively small if all the tissues are fully charged with sap. This contrast of results is one which contemplation of the mechanical actions will lead us to expect.
And now, with these facts to aid our interpretation, let us return to ordinary stems. If the upper end of a growing shoot, the prosenchyma of which is but little thickened, be allowed to imbibe the dye, the vessels of its medullary sheath alone become charged; and from them there takes place but a slow oozing. If a like experiment be tried with a lower part of the shoot, where the wood in course of formation has its inner boundary marked but not its outer boundary, we find that the pitted ducts, and more especially the inner ones, come into play. And then lower still, where the wood has its periphery defined and its histological characters decided, the appearances show that the tissue forming its outer surface begins to take a leading part in the transmission of liquid. What now is the explanation of these changes, mechanically considered? In the young soft part of the shoot, as in all normal and abnormal growths that have not formed wood, the channels for the passage of sap are the spiral, annular, fenestrated, or reticulated vessels. These vessels, here included in the bundles of the medullary sheath, are, in common with the tissues around them, subject, by the bendings of the shoot, to slight intermittent compressions, and, especially the outermost of them, are thus forced to give the prosenchyma an extra supply of nutritive liquid. The thickening of the prosenchyma, spreading laterally as well as outwards from each bundle of the medullary sheath, goes on until it meets the thickenings that spread from the other bundles; and there is so formed an irregular cylinder of hardened tissue, surrounding the medulla and the vascular bundles of its sheath. As soon as this happens, these vascular bundles become, to a considerable extent, shielded from the effects of transverse strains, since the tensions and compressions chiefly fall on the developing wood outside of them. Clearly, too, the greatest stress must be felt by the outer layer of the developing wood: being further removed from the neutral axis, it must be subject to severer strains at each bend; and lying between the bark and the layer of wood first formed, it must be most exposed to lateral compressions. Among the elongated cells of this outer layer, some unite to form the pitted ducts. Being, as we see, better circumstanced mechanically, they become greater carriers of sap than the original vessels, and, in consequence of this, as well as in consequence of their relative proximity, become the sources of nutrition to the still more external layers of wood-cells. The same causes and the same effects hold with each new indurated coat deposited round the previously indurated coats.
This description may be thought to go far towards justifying the current views respecting the course taken by the sap. But the justification is more apparent than real. In the first place, the implication here is that the sap-carrying function is at first discharged entirely by the vessels of the medullary sheath, and that they cease to discharge this function only as fast as they are relatively incapacitated by their mechanical circumstances. And the second implication is, that it is not the wood itself, but the more or less continuous canals formed in it, which are the subsequent sap-distributors. This, though readily made clear by microscopic examination of the large pitted ducts in a partially lignified shoot that has absorbed the dye, is less manifestly true of the peripheral layer of sap-carrying tissue finally formed. But it is really true here. For this layer, though nominally a layer of wood, is practically a layer of inosculating vessels. It is formed out of irregular lines and networks of elongated pitted cells, obliquely united by their ends. Examination of them after absorption of a dye, shows that it is only along the continuous channels they unite to form that the current has passed. But the essentially vascular character of this outer and latest-formed layer of the alburnum is best seen in the fact that the vascular systems of new axes take their rise from it, and form with it continuous canals. If a shoot of last year in which growth is recommencing, be cut lengthways after it has imbibed a dye, clear proof is obtained that the passage of the dye into a lateral bud takes place from this outermost layer of pitted cells, and that the channels taken by the dye through the new tissue are composed of cells that pass through modified forms into the spiral vessels of the new medullary sheath. This transition may be still more clearly traced in a terminal bud that continues the line of last year’s shoot. A longitudinal section of this shows that the vessels of the new medullary sheath do not obtain their sap from the vessels of last year’s sheath (which, as shown by the non-absorption of dye, have become inactive), but that their supplies are obtained from those inosculating canals formed out of last year’s outermost layer of prosenchyma, and that between the component cells of this and those of the new vascular system there are all gradations of structure.[71]
It is not the aim of the foregoing reasoning to show that mechanical actions are the sole causes of the formation of dense tissue in plants. Dense tissue is in many cases formed where no such causes have come into play—as, for example, in thorns and in the shells of nuts. Here the natural selection of variations can alone have operated. It is manifest, too, that even those supporting structures the building up of which is above ascribed to intermittent strains, may, in the individual plant of a species that ordinarily has them, be developed to a great extent when intermittent strains are prevented. We see this in trees that are artificially supported by nailing to walls; and we also see a kindred fact in natural climbers. Though in these cases the formation of wood is obviously less than it would be were the stem and branches habitually moved about by the wind, it nevertheless goes on. Clearly the tendency of the plant to repeat the structure of its type (in the one case the structure of its species; and in the other case that of the order from which it has diverged in becoming a climber) is here almost the sole cause of wood formation. But though in plants so circumstanced intermittent mechanical strains have little or no direct share, it may still be true, and I believe is true, that intermittent mechanical strains are the original cause; for, as before hinted, the typical structure which the individual thus repeats irrespective of its own conditions, is interpretable as a typical structure that is itself the product of these actions and reactions between the plant and its environment. Grant the inheritance of functionally-produced modifications; grant that natural selection will always co-operate in such way as to favour those individuals and families in which functionally-produced modifications have progressed most advantageously; and it will follow that this mechanically-caused formation of dense substance, accumulating from generation to generation by the survival of the fittest, will result in an organic habit of forming dense tissue at the required places. The deposit arising from exudation at the places of greatest strain, recurring from generation to generation at the same places, will come to be reproduced in anticipation of strain, and will continue to be reproduced for a long time after a changed habit of the species prevents the strain—eventually, however, decreasing, both through functional inactivity and natural selection, to the point at which it is in equilibrium with the requirement.
Another side of the general question may now be considered. We have seen how, by intermittent pressures on capillary vessels and ducts and inosculating canals, there must be produced a draught of sap towards the point of compression to replace the sap squeezed out. But we have still to inquire what will be the effect on the distribution of sap throughout the plant as a whole. It was concluded that out of the compressed vessels the greater part of the liquid would escape longitudinally—the longitudinal resistance to movement being least. In every case the probabilities are infinity to one against the resistances being equal upwards and downwards. Always, then, more sap will be expelled in one direction than in the other. But in whichever direction least sap is expelled, from that same direction most sap will return when the vessels are relieved from pressure—the force which is powerful in arresting the back current in that direction being the same force which is powerful in producing a forward current. Ordinarily, the more abundant supply of liquid being from below, there will result an upward current. At each bend a portion of the contents will be squeezed out through the sides of the vessels—a portion will be squeezed downwards, reversing the current ascending from the roots, but soon stopped by its resistance; while a larger portion will be squeezed upwards towards the extremities of the vessels, where consumption and loss are most rapid. At each recoil the vessels will be replenished, chiefly by the repressed upward current; and at the next bend more of it will be thrust onwards than backwards. Hence we have everywhere in action a kind of rude force-pump, worked by the wind; and we see how sap may thus be raised to a height far beyond that to which it could be raised by capillary action, aided by osmose and evaporation.
Thus far, however, the argument proceeds on the assumption that there is liquid enough to replenish every time the vessels subject to this process. But suppose the supply fails—suppose the roots have exhausted the surrounding stock of moisture. Evidently the vessels thus repeatedly having their contents squeezed out into the surrounding tissue, cannot go on refilling themselves from other vessels without tending to empty the vascular system. On the one hand, evaporation from the leaves causing a draught on the capillary tubes that end in them, continually generates a capillary tension upwards; while, on the other hand, the vessels below, expanding after their sap has been squeezed out, produce a tension both upwards and downwards towards the point of loss. Were the limiting membranes of the vessels impermeable, the movement of sap would, under these conditions, soon be arrested. But these membranes are permeable; and the surrounding tissues readily permit the passage of air. This state of tension, then, will cause an entrance of air into the tubes; the columns of liquid they contain will be interrupted by bubbles. It seems, indeed, not improbable that this entrance of air may take place even when there is a good supply of liquid, if the mechanical strains are so violent and the exudation so rapid that the currents cannot refill the half-emptied vessels with sufficient rapidity. And in this case the intruding air may possibly play the same part as that contained in the air-chamber of a force-pump—tending, by moderating the violence of the jets, and by equalizing the strains, to prevent rupture of the apparatus. Of course when the supply of liquid becomes adequate, and the strains not too violent, these bubbles will be expelled as readily as they entered.
Here, as before, let me add the conclusive proof furnished by a direct experiment. To ascertain the amount of this propulsive action, I took from the same tree, a Laurel, two equal shoots, and placing them in the same dye, subjected them to conditions that were alike in all respects save that of motion: while one remained at rest, the other was bent backwards and forwards, now by switching and now by straining with the fingers. After the lapse of an hour, I found that the dye had ascended the oscillating shoot three times as far as it had ascended the stationary shoot—this result being an average from several trials. Similar trials brought out similar effects in other structures. The various petioles and herbaceous shoots experimented upon for the purpose of ascertaining the amount of exudation produced by transverse strains, showed also the amount of longitudinal movement. It was observable that the height ascended by the dye was in all cases greater where there had been oscillation than where there had been rest—the difference, however, being much less marked in succulent structures than in woody ones.
It need scarcely be said that this mechanical action is not here assigned as the sole cause of circulation, but as a cause co-operating with others, and helping others to produce effects that could not otherwise be produced. Trees growing in conservatories afford us abundant proof that sap is raised to considerable heights by other forces. Though it is notorious that trees so circumstanced do not thrive unless, through open sashes, they are frequently subject to breezes sufficient to make their parts oscillate, yet there is evidently a circulation that goes on without mechanical aid. The causes of circulation are those actions only which disturb the liquid equilibrium in a plant, by permanently abstracting water or sap from some part of it; and of these the first is the absorption of materials for the formation of new tissue in growing parts; the second is the loss by evaporation, mainly through adult leaves; and the third is the loss by extravasation, through compressed vessels. Only so far as it produces this last, can mechanical strain be regarded as truly a cause of circulation. All the other actions concerned must be classed as aids to circulation—as facilitating that re-distribution of liquid that continually restores the equilibrium continually disturbed; and of these capillary action may be named as the first, osmose as the second, and the propulsive effect of mechanical strains as the third. The first two of these aids are doubtless capable by themselves of producing a large part of the observed result—more of the observed result than is at first sight manifest; for there is an important indirect effect of osmotic action which appears to be overlooked. Osmose does not aid circulation only by setting up, within the plant, exchange currents between the more dense and the less dense solutions in different parts of it; but it aids circulation much more by producing distention of the plant as a whole. In consequence of the average contrast in density between the water outside of the plant and the sap inside of it, the constant tendency is for the plant to absorb a quantity in excess of its capacity, and so to produce distention and erection of its tissues. It is because of this that the drooping plant raises itself when watered; for capillary action alone could only refill its tissues without changing their attitudes. And it is because of this that juicy plants with collapsible structures bleed so rapidly when cut, not only from the cut surface of the rooted part, but from the cut surface of the detached part—the elastic tissues tending to press out the liquid which distends them. And manifestly if osmose serves thus to maintain a state of distention throughout a plant, it indirectly furthers circulation; since immediately evaporation or growth at any part, by abstracting liquid from the neighbouring tissues, begins to diminish the liquid pressure within such tissues, the distended structures throughout the rest of the plant thrust their liquid contents towards the place of diminished pressure. This, indeed, may very possibly be the most efficient of the agencies at work. Remembering how great is the distention producible by osmotic absorption—great enough to burst a bladder—it is clear that the force with which the distended tissues of a plant urge forward the sap to places of consumption, is probably very great. We must therefore regard the aid which mechanical strains give as being one of several. Oscillations help directly to restore any disturbed liquid equilibrium; and they also help indirectly, by facilitating the re-distribution caused by capillary action and the process just described; but in the absence of oscillations the equilibrium may still be restored, though less rapidly and within narrower limits of distance.
One half of the problem of the circulation, however, has been left out of sight. Thus far our inquiry has been, how the ascending current of sap is produced. There remains the rationale of the descending current. What forces cause it, and through what tissues it takes place, are questions to which no satisfactory answers have been given. That the descent is due to gravitation, as some allege, is difficult to conceive, since, as gravitation acts equally on all liquid columns contained in the stem, it is not easy to see why it should produce downward movements in some while permitting upward movements in others—unless, indeed, there existed descending tubes too wide to admit of much capillary action, which there do not. Moreover, gravitation is clearly inadequate to cause currents towards the roots out of branches that droop to the ground. Here the gravitation of the contained liquid columns must nearly balance that of the connected columns in the stem, leaving no appreciable force to cause motion. Nor does there seem much probability in the assumption that the route of the descending sap is through the cambium layer, since experiments on the absorption of dyes prove that simple cellular tissue is a very bad conductor of liquids: their movement through it does not take place with one-fiftieth of the rapidity with which it takes place through vessels.[72]
Of course the defence for these hypotheses is, that there must be a downward current, which must have a course and a cause; and the very natural assumption has been that the course and the cause must be other than those which produce the ascending current. Nevertheless there is an alternative supposition to which the foregoing considerations introduce us. It is quite possible for the same vascular system to serve as a channel for movement in opposite directions at different times. We have among animals well-known cases in which the blood-vessels carry a current first in one direction and then, after a brief pause, in the reverse direction. And there seems an à priori probability that, lowly-organized as they are, plants are more likely to have distributing appliances of this imperfect kind than to have two sets of channels for two simultaneous currents. If, led by this suspicion, we inquire whether among the forces which unite to produce movements of sap, there are any variations or intermissions capable of determining the currents in different directions, we quickly discover that there are such, and that the hypothesis of an alternating motion of the sap, now centrifugal and now centripetal, through the same vessels, has good warrant. What are the several forces at work? First may be set down that tendency existing in every part of a plant to expand into its typical form, and to absorb nutritive liquids in doing this. The resulting competition for sap will, other things being equal, cause currents towards the most rapidly-growing parts—towards unfolding shoots and leaves, but not towards adult leaves. Next we have evaporation, acting more on the adult leaves than on those which are in the bud, or but partially developed. This evaporation is both regularly and irregularly intermittent. Depending chiefly on the action of the sun, it is, in fine weather, greatly checked or wholly arrested every evening; and in cloudy weather must be much retarded during the day. Further, every hygrometric variation, as well as every variation in the movement of the air, must vary the evaporation. This chief action, therefore, which, by continually emptying the ends of the capillary tubes, makes upward currents possible, is one which intermits every night, and every day is strong or feeble as circumstances determine. Then, in the third place, we have this rude pumping process above described, going on with greater vigour when the wind is violent, and with less vigour when it is gentle—drawing liquid towards different parts according to their degrees of oscillation, and from different parts according as they can most readily furnish it. And now let us ask what must result under changing conditions from these variously-conflicting and conspiring forces. When a warm sunshine, causing rapid evaporation, is emptying the vessels of the leaves, the osmotic and capillary actions that refill them will be continually aided by the pumping action of the swaying petioles, twigs, and branches, provided their oscillations are moderate. Under these conditions the current of sap, moving in the direction of least resistance, will set towards the leaves. But what will happen when the sun sets? There is now nothing to determine currents either upwards or downwards, except the relative rates of growth in the parts and the relative demands set up by the oscillations; and the oscillations acting alone, will draw sap to the oscillating parts as much from above as from below. If the resistance to be overcome by a current setting back from the leaves is less than the resistance to be overcome by a current setting up from the roots, then a current will set back from the leaves. Now it is, I think, tolerably manifest that in the swaying twigs and minor branches, less force will be required to overcome the inertia of the short columns of liquid between them and the leaves than to overcome the inertia of the long columns between them and the roots. Hence during the night, as also at other times when evaporation is not going on, the sap will be drawn out of the leaves into the adjacent supporting parts; and their nutrition will be increased. If the wind is strong enough to produce a swaying of the thicker branches, the back current will extend to them also; and a further strengthening will result from their absorption of the elaborated sap. And when the great branches and the stem are bent backwards and forwards by a gale, they too will share in the nutrition. It may at first sight seem that these parts, being nearer to the roots than to the leaves, will draw their supplies from the roots only. But the quantity which the roots can furnish is insufficient to meet so great a demand. Under the conditions described, the exudation of sap from the vessels will be very great, and the draught of liquid required to refill them, not satisfied by that which the root-fibres can take in, will extend to the leaves. Thus sap will flow to the several parts according to their respective degrees of activity—to the leaves while light and heat enable them to discharge their functions, and back to the twigs, branches, stem, and roots when these become active and the leaves inactive, or when their activity dominates over that of the leaves. And this distribution of nutriment, varying with the varying activities of the parts, is just such a distribution as we know must be required to keep up the organic balance.
To this explanation it may be objected that it does not account for the downward current of sap in plants that are sheltered. The stem and roots of a drawing-room Geranium display a thickening which implies that nutritive matters have descended from the leaves, although there are none of those oscillations by which the sap is said to be drawn downwards as well as upwards. The reply is, that the stem and roots tend to repeat their typical structures, and that the absorption of sap for the formation of their respective dense tissues, is here the force which determines the descent. Indeed it must be borne in mind that the mechanical strains and the pumping process which they keep up, as well as the distention caused by osmose, do not in themselves produce a current either upwards or downwards: they simply help to move the sap towards that place where there is the most rapid abstraction of it—the place towards which its motion is least resisted. Whether there is oscillation or whether there is not, the physiological demands of the different parts of the plant determine the direction of the current; and all which the oscillations and the distention do is to facilitate the supply of these demands. Just as much, therefore, in a plant at rest as in a plant in motion, the current will set downwards when the function of the leaves is arrested, and when there is nothing to resist that abstraction of sap caused by the tendency of the stem- and root-tissues to assume their typical structures. To which admission, however, it must be added that since this typical structure assumed, though imperfectly assumed, by the hothouse plant, is itself interpretable as the inherited effect of external mechanical actions on its ancestors, we may still consider the current set up by the assumption of the typical structure to be indirectly due to such actions.
Interesting evidence of another order here demands notice. In the course of experiments on the absorption of dyes by leaves, it happened that in making sections parallel to the plane of a leaf, with the view of separating its middle layer containing the vessels, I came upon some structures that were new to me. These structures, where they are present, form the terminations of the vascular system. They are masses of irregular and imperfectly united fibrous cells, such as those out of which vessels are developed; and they are sometimes slender, sometimes bulky—usually, however, being more or less club-shaped. In transverse sections of leaves their distinctive characters are not shown: they are taken for the smaller veins. It is only by carefully slicing away the surface of a leaf until we come down to that part which contains them, that we get any idea of their nature. Fig. 1 represents a specimen taken from a leaf of Euphorbia neriifolia. Occupying one of the interspaces of the ultimate venous network, it consists of a spirally-lined duct or set of ducts, which connects with the neighbouring vein a cluster of half-reticulated, half-scalariform cells. These cells have projections, many of them tapering, that insert themselves into the adjacent intercellular spaces, thus producing an extensive surface of contact between the organ and the imbedding tissues. A further trait is, that the ensheathing prosenchyma is either but little developed or wholly absent; and consequently this expanded vascular structure, especially at its end, comes immediately in contact with the tissues concerned in assimilation. The leaf of Euphorbia neriifolia is a very fleshy one; and in it these organs are distributed through a compact, though watery, cellular mass. But in any leaf of the ordinary type which possesses them, they lie in the network-parenchyma composing its lower layer; and wherever they occur in this layer its cells unite to enclose them. This arrangement is shown in fig. 2, representing a sample from the Caoutchouc-leaf, as seen with the upper part of its envelope removed; and it is shown still more clearly in a sample from the leaf of Panax Lessonii, fig. 3. Figures 4 and 5 represent, without their sheaths, other such organs from the leaves of Panax Lessonii and Clusia flava. Some relation seems to exist between their forms and the thicknesses of the layers in which they lie. Certain very thick leaves, such as those of Clusia flava, have them less abundantly distributed than is usual, but more massive. Where the parenchyma is developed not to so great an extreme, though still largely, as in the leaves of Holly, Aucuba, Camellia, they are not so bulky; and in thinner leaves, like those of Privet, Elder, &c., they become longer and less conspicuously club-shaped. Some adaptations to their respective positions seem implied by these modifications; and we may naturally expect that in many thin leaves these free ends, becoming still narrower, lose the distinctive and suggestive characters possessed by those shown in the diagrams. Relations of this kind are not regular, however. In various other genera, members of which I have examined, as Rhus, Viburnum, Griselinia, Brexia, Botryodendron, Pereskia, the variations in the bulk and form of these structures are not directly determined by the spaces which the leaves allow: obviously there are other modifying causes. It should be added that while these expanded free extremities graduate into tapering free extremities, not differing from ordinary vessels, they also pass insensibly into the ordinary inosculations. Occasionally, along with numerous free endings, there occur loops; and from such loops there are transitions to the ultimate meshes of the veins.
These organs are by no means common to all leaves. In many that afford ample spaces for them they are not to be found. So far as I have observed, they are absent from the thick leaves of plants which form very little wood. In Sempervivum, in Echeveria, in Bryophyllum, they do not appear to exist; and I have been unable to discover them in Kalanchoë rotundifolia, in Kleinia ante-euphorbium and ficoides, in the several species of Crassula, and in other succulent plants. It may be added that they are not absolutely confined to leaves, but occur in stems that have assumed the functions of leaves. At least I have found, in the green parenchyma of Opuntia, organs that are analogous though much more rudely and irregularly formed. In other parts, too, that have usurped the leaf-function, they occur, as in the phyllodes of the Australian Acacias. These have them abundantly developed; and it is interesting to observe that here, where the two vertically-placed surfaces of the flattened-out petiole are equally adapted to the assimilative function, there exist two layers of these expanded vascular terminations, one applied to the inner surface of each layer of parenchyma.
Considering the structures and positions of these organs, as well as the natures of the plants possessing them, may we not form a shrewd suspicion respecting their function? Is it not probable that they facilitate absorption of the juices carried back from the leaf for the nutrition of the stem and roots? They are admirably adapted for performing this office. Their component fibrous cells, having angles insinuated between the cells of the parenchyma, are shaped just as they should be for taking up its contents; and the absence of sheathing tissue between them and the parenchyma facilitates the passage of the elaborated liquids. Moreover there is the fact that they are allied to organs which obviously have absorbent functions. I am indebted to Dr. Hooker for pointing out the figures of two such organs in the “Icones Anatomicæ” of Link. One of them is from the end of a dicotyledonous root-fibre, and the other is from the prothallus of a young Fern. In each case a cluster of fibrous cells, seated at a place from which liquid has to be drawn, is connected by vessels with the parts to which liquid has to be carried. There can scarcely be a doubt, then, that in both cases absorption is effected through them. I have met with another such organ, more elaborately constructed, but evidently adapted to the same office, in the common Turnip-root. As shown by the end view and longitudinal section in figs. 6 and 7, this organ consists of rings of fenestrated cells, arranged with varying degrees of regularity into a funnel, ordinarily having its apex directed towards the central mass of the Turnip, with which it has, in some cases at least, a traceable connexion by a canal. Presenting as it does an external porous surface terminating one of the branches of the vascular system, each of these organs is well fitted for taking up with rapidity the nutriment laid by in the Turnip-root, and used by the plant when it sends up its flower-stalk. Nor does even this exhaust the analogies. The cotyledons of the young bean, experimented upon as before described, furnished other examples of such structures, exactly in the places where, if they are absorbents, we might expect to find them. Amid the branchings and inosculations of the vascular layer running through the mass of nutriment deposited in each cotyledon, there are conspicuous free terminations that are club-shaped, and prove to be composed, like those in leaves, of irregularly formed and clustered fibrous cells; and some of them, diverging from the plane of the vascular layer, dip down into the mass of starch and albumen which the young plant has to utilize, and which these structures can have no other function but to take up.
Besides being so well fitted for absorption, and besides being similar to organs which we cannot doubt are absorbents, these vascular terminations in leaves afford us yet another evidence of their functions. They are seated in a tissue so arranged as specially to facilitate the abstraction of liquid. The centripetal movement of the sap must be set up by a force that is comparatively feeble, since, the parietes of the ducts being porous, air will enter if the tension on the contained columns becomes considerable. Hence it is needful that the exit of sap from the leaves should meet with very little resistance. Now were it not for an adjustment presently to be described, it would meet with great resistance, notwithstanding the peculiar fitness of these organs to take it in. Liquid cannot be drawn out of any closed cavity without producing a collapse of the cavity’s sides; and if its sides are not readily collapsible, there must be a corresponding resistance to the abstraction of liquid from it. Clearly the like must happen if the liquid is to be drawn out of a tissue which cannot either diminish in bulk bodily or allow its components individually to diminish in bulk. In an ordinary leaf, the upper layer of parenchyma, formed as it is of closely-packed cells that are without interspaces, and are everywhere held fast within their framework of veins, can neither contract easily as a mass, nor allow its separate cells to do so. Quite otherwise is it with the network-parenchyma below. The long cells of this, united merely by their ends and having their flexible sides surrounded by air, may severally have their contents considerably increased and decreased without offering appreciable resistances: and the network-tissue which they form will, at the same time, be capable of undergoing slight expansions and contractions of its thickness. In this layer occur these organs that are so obviously fitted for absorption. Here we find them in direct communication with its system of collapsible cells. The probability appears to be, that when the current sets into the leaf, it passes through the vessels and their sheaths chiefly into the upper layer of cells (this upper layer having a larger surface of contact with the veins than the lower layer, and being the seat of more active processes); and that the juices of the upper layer, enriched by the assimilated matters, pass into the network-parenchyma, which serves as a reservoir from which they are from time to time drawn for the nutrition of the rest of the plant, when the actions determine the downward current. Should it be asked what happens where the absorbents, instead of being inserted in a network-parenchyma, are, as in the leaves of Euphorbia neriifolia, inserted in a solid parenchyma, the reply is, that such a parenchyma, though not furnished with systematically arranged air-chambers, nevertheless contains air in its intercellular spaces; and that when there occurs a draught upon its contents, the expansion of this air and the entrance of more from without, quickly supply the place of the abstracted liquid.
If then, returning to the general argument, we conclude that these expanded terminations of the vascular system in leaves are absorbent organs, we find a further confirmation of the views set forth respecting the alternating movement of the sap along the same channels. These spongioles of the leaves, like the spongioles of the roots, being appliances by which liquid is taken up to be carried into the mass of the plant, we are obliged to regard the vessels that end in these spongioles of the leaves as being the channels of the down current whenever it is produced. If the elaborated sap is abstracted from the leaves by these absorbents, then we have no alternative but to suppose that, having entered the vascular system, the elaborated sap descends through it. And seeing how, by the help of these special terminations, it becomes possible for the same vessels to carry back a quality of sap unlike that which they bring up, we are enabled to understand tolerably well how this rhythmical movement produces a downward transfer of materials for growth.
The several lines of argument may now be brought together; and along with them may be woven up such evidences as remain. Let me first point out the variety of questions to which the hypothesis supplies answers.
It is required to account for the ascent of sap to a height beyond that to which capillary action can raise it. This ascent is accounted for by the propulsive action of transverse strains, joined with that of osmotic distention. A cause has to be assigned for that rise of sap which, in the spring, while yet there is no considerable evaporation to aid it, goes on with a power which capillarity does not explain. The co-operation of the same two agencies is assignable for this result also.[73] The circumstance that vessels and ducts here contain sap and there contain air, and at the same place contain at different seasons now air and now sap is a fact calling for explanation. An explanation is furnished by these mechanical actions which involve the entrance or expulsion of air according to the supply of liquid. That vessels and ducts which were originally active sap-carriers go completely out of use, and have their function discharged by other vessels or ducts, is an anomaly that has to be solved. Again, we are supplied with a solution: these deserted vessels and ducts are those which, by the formation of dense tissue outside of them, become so circumstanced that they cannot be compressed as they originally were. A channel has to be found for the downward current of sap, which, on any other hypothesis than the foregoing, must be a channel separate from that taken by the upward current; and yet no good evidence of a separate channel has been pointed out. Here, however, the difficulty disappears, since one channel suffices for the current alternating upwards and downwards according to the conditions. Moreover there has to be found a force producing or facilitating the downward current, capable even of drawing sap out of drooping branches; and no such force is forthcoming. The hypothesis set forth dispenses with this necessity; under the recurring change of conditions, the same distention and oscillation which before raised the sap to the places of consumption, now bring it down to the places of consumption. A physical process has to be pointed out by which the material that forms dense tissue is deposited at the places where it is wanted, rather than at other places. This physical process the hypothesis indicates. It is requisite to find an explanation of the fact that, when plants ordinarily swayed about by the wind are grown indoors, the formation of wood is so much diminished that they become abnormally slender. Of this an explanation is supplied. Yet a further fact to be interpreted is, that in the same individual plant homologous parts, which, according to the type of the plant, should be equally woody, become much thicker one than another if subject to greater mechanical stress. And of this too an interpretation is similarly afforded.
Now the sufficiency of the assigned actions to account for so many phenomena not otherwise explained, would be strong evidence that the rationale is the true one, even were it of a purely hypothetical kind. How strong, then, becomes the reason for believing it the true one when we remember that the actions alleged demonstrably go on in the way asserted. They are ever operating before our eyes; and that they produce the effects in question is a conclusion deducible from mechanical principles, a conclusion established by induction, and a conclusion verified by experiment. These three orders of proof may be briefly summed up as follows.
That plants which have to raise themselves above the earth’s surface, and to withstand the actions of the wind, must have a power of developing supporting structure, is an à priori conclusion which may be safely drawn. It is an equally safe à priori conclusion, that if the supporting structure, either as a whole or in any of its parts, has to adapt itself to the particular strains which the individual plant is subject to by its particular circumstances, there must be at work some process by which the strength of the supporting structure is everywhere brought into equilibrium with the forces it has to bear. Though the typical distribution of supporting structure in each kind of plant may be explained teleologically by those whom teleological explanations satisfy; and though otherwise this typical distribution may be ascribed to natural selection acting apart from any directly adaptive process; yet it is manifest that those departures from the typical distribution which fit the parts of each plant to their special conditions are explicable neither teleologically nor by natural selection. We are, therefore, compelled to admit that, if in each plant there goes on a balancing of the particular strains by the particular strengths, there must be a physical or physico-chemical process by which the adjustments of the two are effected. Meanwhile we are equally compelled to admit, à priori, that the mechanical actions to be resisted, themselves affect the internal tissues in such ways as to further the increase of that dense substance by which they are resisted. It is demonstrable that bending the petioles, shoots, and stems must compress the vessels beneath their surfaces, and increase the exudation of nutritive matters from them, and must do this actively in proportion as the bends are great and frequent; so that while, on the one hand, it is a necessary deduction that, if the parts of each plant are to be severally strengthened according to the several strains, there must be some direct connexion between strains and strengths, it is, on the other hand, a necessary deduction from mechanical principles that the strains do act in such ways as to aid the increase of the strengths. How a like correspondence between two à priori arguments holds in the case of the circulation, needs not to be shown in detail. It will suffice to remind the reader that while the raising of sap to heights beyond the limit of capillarity implies some force to effect it, we have in the osmotic distention and the intermittent compressions caused by transverse strains, forces which, under the conditions, cannot but tend to effect it; and similarly with the requirement for a downward current, and the production of a downward current.
Among the inductive proofs we find a kindred agreement. Different individuals of the same species, and different parts of the same individual, do strengthen in different degrees; and there is a clearly traceable connexion between their strengthenings and the intermittent strains they are exposed to. This evidence, derived from contrasts between growths on the same plant or on plants of the same type, is enforced by evidence derived from contrasts between plants of different types. The deficiency of woody tissue which we see in plants called succulent, is accompanied by a bulkiness of the parts which prevents any considerable oscillations; and this character is also habitually accompanied by a dwarfed growth. When, leaving these relations as displayed externally, we examine them internally, we find the facts uniting to show, by their agreements and differences, that between the compression of the sap-canals and the production of wood there is a direct relation. We have the facts, that in each plant, and in every new part of each plant, the formation of sap-canals precedes the formation of wood; that the deposit of woody matter, when it begins, takes place around these sap-canals, and afterwards around the new sap-canals successively developed; that this formation of wood around the sap-canals takes place where the coats of the canals are demonstrably permeable, and that the amount of wood formation is proportionate to the permeability. And then that the permeability and extravasation of sap occur wherever, in the individual or in the type, there are intermittent compressions, is proved alike by ordinary cases and by exceptional cases. In the one class of cases we see that the deposit of wood round the vessels begins to take place when they come into positions that subject them to intermittent compressions, while it ceases when they become shielded from compressions. And in the other class of cases, where, from the beginning, the vessels are shielded from compression by surrounding fleshy tissue, there is a permanent absence of wood formation.
To which complete agreement between the deductive and inductive inferences has to be added the direct proof supplied by experiments. It is put beyond doubt by experiment that the liquids absorbed by plants are distributed to their different parts through their vessels—at first by the spiral or allied vessels originally developed, and then by the better-placed ducts formed later. By experiment it is demonstrated that the intermittent compressions caused by oscillations urge the sap along the vessels and ducts. And it is also experimentally proved that the same intermittent compressions produce exudation of sap from vessels and ducts into the surrounding tissue.
That the processes here described, acting through all past time, have sufficed of themselves to develope the supporting and distributing structures of plants, is not alleged. What share the natural selection of variations distinguished as spontaneous, has had in establishing them, is a question which remains to be discussed. Whether acting alone natural selection would have sufficed to evolve these vascular and resisting tissues, I do not profess to say. That it has been a co-operating cause, I take to be self-evident: it must all along have furthered the action of any other cause, by preserving the individuals on which such other cause had acted most favourably. Seeing, however, the conclusive proof which we have that another cause has been in action—certainly on individuals, and, in all probability, by inheritance on races—we may most philosophically ascribe the genesis of these internal structures to this cause, and regard natural selection as having here played the part of an accelerator.
EXPLANATION OF PLATE.
Fig. 1. Absorbent organ from the leaf of Euphorbia neriifolia. The cluster of fibrous cells forming one of the terminations of the vascular system is here imbedded in a solid parenchyma.
Fig. 2. A structure of analogous kind from the leaf of Ficus elastica. Here the expanded terminations of the vessels are imbedded in the network-parenchyma, the cells of which unite to form envelopes for them.
Fig. 3. Shows on a larger scale one of these absorbents from the leaf of Panax Lessonii. In this figure is clearly seen the way in which the cells of the network-parenchyma unite into a closely-fitting case for the spiral cells.
Fig. 4. Represents a much more massive absorbent from the same leaf, the surrounding tissues being omitted.
Fig. 5. Similarly represents, without its sheath, an absorbent from the leaf of Clusia flava.
Fig. 6. End view of an absorbent organ from the root of a Turnip. It is taken from the outermost layer of vessels. Its funnel-shaped interior is drawn as it presents itself when looked at from the outside of this layer, its narrow end being directed towards the centre of the Turnip.
Fig. 7. A longitudinal section through the axis of another such organ, showing its annuli of reticulated cells when cut through. The cellular tissue which fills the interior is supposed to be removed.
Fig. 8. A less developed absorbent, showing its approximate connexion with a duct. In their simplest forms, these structures consist of only two fenestrated cells, with their ends bent round so as to meet. Such types occur in the central mass of the Turnip, where the vascular system is relatively imperfect. Besides the comparatively regular forms of these absorbents, there are forms composed of amorphous masses of fenestrated cells. It should be added that both the regular and irregular kinds are very variable in their numbers: in some turnips they are abundant, and in others scarcely to be found. Possibly their presence depends on the age of the Turnip. Judging from the period during which my investigations were made, namely winter and early spring, I suspect that they are developed only in preparation for sending up the flower-stalk.
Figs.1–8.
Let me add that experiments on circulation in plants made during the state of inactivity, when it is to be presumed that the vessels and tissues contain but little gap, are much more successful than those made in the summer. It would seem that when the tissues are fully charged with sap the taking up of dyes is comparatively slow and the above-described effects are not so easily demonstrable.
[An expert writes concerning this essay:—“I have not attempted to annotate critically this paper. There is no doubt that many of your conclusions are perfectly sound, particularly those relating to the passage of crude sap through the cavities of the elements of the wood, though the opinion that the actual passage was through the walls very generally held till about 12 years ago.”]
APPENDIX D.
ON THE ORIGIN OF THE VERTEBRATE TYPE.
[When studying the development of the vertebrate skeleton, there occurred to me the following idea respecting the possible origin of the notochord. I was eventually led to omit the few pages of Appendix in which I had expressed this idea, because it was unsupported by developmental evidence. The developmental evidence recently discovered, however, has led Professor Haeckel and others to analogous views respecting the affiliation of the Vertebrata on the Molluscoida. Having fortunately preserved a proof of the suppressed pages, I am able now to add them. With the omission of a superfluous paragraph, they are reprinted verbatim from this proof, which dates back to the autumn of 1865, at which time the chapter on “The Shapes of Vertebrate Skeletons” was written.—December, 1869.]
The general argument contained in Chap. XVI. of Part IV., I have thought it undesirable to implicate with any conception more speculative than those essential to it; and to avoid so implicating it, I transfer to this place an hypothesis respecting the derivation of the rudimentary vertebrate structure, which appears to me worth considering.
Among those molluscoid animals with which the lowest vertebrate animal has sundry traits in common, it very generally happens that while the adult is stationary the larva is locomotive. The locomotion of the larva is effected by the undulations of a tail. In shape and movement one of these young Ascidians is not altogether unlike a Tadpole. And as the tail of the Tadpole disappears when its function comes to be fulfilled by limbs; so the Ascidian larva’s tail disappears when fixation of the larva renders it useless. This disappearance of the tail, however, is not without exception. The Appendicularia is an Ascidian which retains its tail throughout life; and by its aid continues throughout life to swim about. Now this tail of the Appendicularia has a very suggestive structure. It is long, tapering to a point, and flattened. From end to end there runs a mid-rib, which appears to be an imbedded gelatinous rod, not unlike a notochord. Extending along the two sides of this mid-rib, are bundles of muscular fibres; and its top bears a gangliated nervous thread, giving off, at intervals, branches to the muscular fibres. In the Appendicularia this tail, which is inserted at the lower part of the back, is bent forwards, so as not to be adapted for propelling the body of the animal head foremost; but the homologous tails of the larval Ascidians are directed backwards, so as to produce forward movement. If we suppose a type like the Appendicularia in the structure and insertion of its permanent tail, but resembling the larval forms in the direction of its tail, it is, I think, not difficult to see that functional adaptation joined with natural selection, might readily produce a type approximating to that whose origin we are considering. It is a fair assumption that an habitually-locomotive creature would profit by increased power of locomotion. This granted, it follows that such further development of the tail-structures as might arise from enhanced function, and such better distribution of them as spontaneous variation might from time to time initiate, would be perpetuated. What must be the accompanying changes? The more vigorous action of such an appendage implies a firmer insertion into the body; and this would be effected by the prolongation forwards of the central axis of the tail into the creature’s back. As fast as there progressed this fusion of the increasingly-powerful tail with the body, the body would begin to partake of its oscillations; and at the same time that the resistant axis of the tail advanced along the dorsal region, its accompanying muscular fibres would spread over the sides of the body: gradually taking such modified directions and insertions as their new conditions rendered most advantageous. Without further explanation, those who examine drawings of the structures described, will, I think, see that in such a way a tail homologous with that of the Appendicularia, would be likely, in the course of that development required for its greater efficiency, gradually to encroach on the body, until its mid-rib became the dorsal axis, its gangliated nerve-thread the spinal chord, and its muscular fibres the myocommata. Such a development of an appendage into a dominant part of the organism, though at first sight a startling supposition, is not without plenty of parallels: instance the way in which the cerebral ganglia, originally mere adjuncts of the spinal chord, eventually become the great centres of the nervous system to which the spinal chord is quite subordinate; or instance the way in which the limbs, small and inconspicuous in fishes, become, in Man, masses which, taken together, outweigh the trunk. It may be added that these familiar cases have a further appropriateness; for they exhibit higher degrees of that same increasing dominance of the organs of external relation, which the hypothesis itself implies.
Of course, if the rudimentary vertebrate apparatus thus grew into, and spread over, a molluscoid visceral system, the formation of the notochord under the action of alternating transverse strains, did not take place as suggested in [§ 255]; but it does not therefore follow that its differentiation from surrounding tissues was not mechanically initiated in the way described. For what was said in that section respecting the effects of lateral bendings of the body, equally applies to lateral bendings of the tail; and as fast as the developing tail encroached on the body, the body would become implicated in the transverse strains, and the differentiation would advance forwards under the influences originally alleged. Obviously, too, though the lateral muscular masses would in this case have a different history; yet the segmentation of them would be eventually determined by the assigned causes. For as fast as the strata of contractile fibres, developing somewhat in advance of the dorsal axis, spread along the sides, they would come under the influence of the alternate flexions; and while, by survival of the fittest, their parts became adjusted in direction, their segmentation would, as before, accompany their increasing massiveness. The actions and reactions due to lateral undulations would still, therefore, be the causes of differentiation, with which natural selection would co-operate.
APPENDIX D 2.
THE ANNULOSE TYPE.
The production of a segmental structure by undulatory movements, suggested in Appendix D, as also in B (first published in 1858) as explaining the vertebral column, has been recently suggested by Prof. Korschelt as the cause of that segmentation of the annulose type which gives the name to it. He espouses a—
“view which is based upon the assumption that at first an unsegmented, elongated ancestral form was produced by terminal growth, whereupon the entire body became separated at once into a large number of segments by a re-arrangement of the individual organs. This assumption is supported by the consideration that with the lateral sinuous movement of the body, and with the rigidity of the tissues caused by increasing differentiation, the formation of alternating regions of greater and less motility was of considerable advantage to the individual, and rendered possible a further elongation of the body. The first cause for the appearance of metameric segmentation would then be sought in the manner of locomotion and in mechanical conditions. However, this latter view is not supported in any way by embryology.” (Embryology of Invertebrates, Part I, pp. 349–50.)
I venture to think the confession that this view “is not supported in any way by embryology” should be joined with the confession that it is at variance with that abstract embryology which comprehends the process of development in general. The assumption that there took place “a re-arrangement of the individual organs” of “an unsegmented, elongated ancestral form,” in such wise that the organs, previously single, presently became multiple, so that instead of one organ of each kind there were substituted many organs of each kind, is inconsistent with the general law of evolution, organic and other—implies not integration but disintegration. Everywhere the advance is from many like parts performing like functions to relatively few unlike parts performing unlike functions. The higher forms of the annulose type itself show this. Compare a myriapod and a crab. In the one we have not only a great number of similar segments bearing similar limbs, but we have in each segment a dilatation of the main blood-vessel—a rudimentary heart—a swollen portion of the nerve cord—a small ganglion—and so on; whereas in the other, besides relatively few segments and few limbs (sundry of them extremely unlike the rest) we have a vascular system concentrated into a central heart with arteries and a concentrated nervous system, such that the great ganglia in the integrated carapace immensely subordinate the ganglia of the remaining segments; and similarly with the other organs. Now unless it be denied that these highest decapods have been evolved from low types akin to myriapods in composition, it must be admitted that the progress has been from a string of many like segments with similar sets of organs to a group of relatively-few unlike segments with dissimilar sets of organs. If so we cannot rationally deny that the progress has been of this nature up from the lowest annelid, instead of having been, as Prof. Korschelt’s hypothesis implies, of opposite nature at the beginning.
In a preceding passage a clear recognition of the normal course of development occurs. In opposing the view set forth in [§§ 205–7] of this work, Prof. Korschelt says:—
“It seems scarcely favourable to this theory that the degree of independence which the individual segments present is comparatively slight. The most important organs (nervous system, body musculature, blood-vascular system) show themselves to be single fundaments of the entire body, and are also developed as such even though they also exhibit evidences of metamerism. Even the excretory canals may give up their segmental isolation and become united to one another by means of longitudinal canals.” (Ib. p. 348.)
On turning back to [§ 206], the reader will, I think, demur to the assertion that the independence is “comparatively slight”; seeing that, as in Ctenodrilus, a single segment sometimes becomes separate and reproduces other segments to form a new series. Instead of admitting that “the most important organs” “show themselves to be single fundaments of the entire body,” it may be held, contrariwise, that their original independence in each segment is masked only to the degree involved by their co-operation as parts of a compound organism. But chiefly I remark that when it is said that “the excretory canals may give up their segmental isolation and become united” by “longitudinal canals,” there is a clear confession that the isolation of these organs was original and their union superinduced—an implication that the course of evolution is as I have described it, and at variance with the course of evolution assumed by Prof. Korschelt.
Yet another incongruity is involved in his interpretation. He writes:—
“Just as in the consideration of the tapeworm chain we were induced by the comparison with unsegmented forms to refer the entire chain to an unsegmented individual, and, on the other hand, to see in the proglottis, not a complete individual, but only the abstricted hinder portion of the body of the Cestode, in the same manner, and with much more reason, we adhere to the individuality of the Annelid body.” (P. 349.)
And then on the preceding page, referring to the composition of the Annelid body, he says:—“The most natural comparisons are those with the tapeworm chain and with the strobila of the Scyphomedusæ.” Now since it is here assumed that the tapeworm and the strobila are analogous in composition, it is implied that the detached proglottis and the detached medusa are analogous; and hence if we are to regard the proglottis as “not a complete individual but only the abstricted hinder portion of the body of the Cestode,” then we must similarly regard the medusa as not a complete individual, but only the abstricted hinder portion of the strobila. This commits us to the strange conclusion that whereas individuality is ascribed to the original simple polyp, and by and by to the partially-segmented strobila, though these are without special senses and with only rudiments of muscular and nervous systems, individuality is denied to the detached medusa, which has organs of sense, a distinct nervo-muscular system and a considerable power of locomotion, as well as a generative system: traits which in other cases characterize developed individuals. Here also, then, there seems to be an inversion of the ordinary conception.
This conception of the proglottis and the medusa is, I see, accepted by some as tenable. But if we accept it we must accept also an analogous conception, which will I think be regarded as untenable. It is that supplied by the Aphides. From an egg proceeds a series of sexless and wingless females, and at the end of the series there come winged males and females with resulting gamic reproduction. If instead of forming a discrete series the imperfect females formed a concrete series, the members of which could individually feed without being detached from one another, as the segments of a tapeworm can, the parallelism would be complete; and then, according to the view in question, we should have to regard the perfect males and females eventually arising, not as individuals but as terminal portions of the series, containing generative products and having wings for the dispersion of them—locomotive egg-bearing segments of the chain. Whoever espouses this view must hold either that the first imperfect female of the series was the individual or that the entire string of them constituted the individual (in conformity with a view once propounded by Prof. Huxley). But he must do more than this. Since the Aphides have descended from some winged species of the order Hemiptera, he must hold that among those remote ancestors each particular fly, male or female, was an individual; but that when abundant food and inert life led to the partheno-genetic habit, and to chains of sexless forms, the males and females eventually produced at the end of each chain, though, like their remote ancestors, possessed of procreative organs and wings, are not individuals.
[Some memoranda bearing on the question here discussed, mislaid at the time when the chapter dealing with it was revised, have been discovered in time for utilization in this appendix.]
One of my critics says:—
“You have overstated the case in your favour: the alimentary canal does not, as you suggest, show a segmentation corresponding to that of the other organs in Annelids. Either it is a simple uniform tube, or else its differentiations (pharynx, œsophagus, crop, intestine) are quite independent of the repetition of the somites.”
In presence of statements made in works of authority, this objection greatly surprises me. I meet with the descriptive word “moniliform” applied to the intestine in some Annelids, and then in the Text Book of Claus, translated and edited by Sedgwick, it is said, concerning the alimentary canal in the Annelida:—
“This is followed by the gastric region of the gut, which occupies the greatest portion of the length of the body, and is either regularly constricted in correspondence with the segments, or possesses lateral diverticula.” (P. 365.)
And again on p. 369 it is said:—
“The intestine usually preserves the same structure in its entire length and is divided by regular constrictions into a number of divisions or chambers, which correspond to the segments and dilate again into lateral diverticula and cæca.”
The alimentary canal thus presents the segmental character as clearly as consists with fulfilment of its function. If the successive segments are co-operating units of a compound animal having but one mouth, then, necessarily, the gut cannot be completely cut into parts, each answering to a segment, for there could be, in that case, no passage for the food. If the portion of the intestine belonging to each segment has a conspicuous dilatation, or has a cæcum on each side, it exhibits the segmental character as much as the physical requirements permit. So far from being at variance with the hypothesis, its structure exhibits a verification of it.
The next objection runs as follows:—
“Then, again, the ovaries and testes do not exhibit a corresponding segmentation. When it is allowable to speak of ovary or testis at all as in Lumbricus, we find that in the case of both organs we have at most two pairs.”
It seems to me that the distribution of the generative organs in a comparatively-developed member of the Annelid type, is not the question. We have to ask what it is in undeveloped members of that type. Among them the repetition of generative parts is in some cases just what the theory implies. Thus in Claus I read:—“In the marine Chætopoda, the ova or spermatozoa originate on the body-wall from cells of the peritoneal membrane, either in the anterior segments alone or along the whole length of the body.” So that in these last cases there are, in all the segments, parts from which arise generative products. The fact that these parts are not definite ovaries and testes is irrelevant. Ovaries and testes are developed generative structures, and in the order of evolution are preceded by undeveloped ones; and the fact that these undeveloped ones are found in little-developed members of the type conforms perfectly to the hypothesis. [I may remark in passing that here is a good illustration of that process of evolution which, in the above speculation of Prof. Korschelt, is supposed to be inverted: many dispersed, similar, and indefinite parts, are integrated into a few localized and definite parts.]
In continuation the critic above quoted says:—“My position is that the repetition of segments in an Annelid is a phenomenon of the same nature as the repetition of hairs in a Mammal or of scutes in a Reptile”, and he proceeds to give instances of repetitions of organs in other types, as of the reproductive structures and excretory system in the young Dog-fish or of the ovaries in Amphioxus. These examples do not seem to me relevant. No parallelism exists between the repetition of a particular organ in an animal, and the repetition of an entire cluster of organs constituting a physiological whole. The repetitions of the ovaries in Amphioxus and of the excretory system in a young Dog-fish, occur without threatening to divide into similar parts the entire organism. But the segmental repetitions in an annulose creature implicate the structures at large, and would, if pushed a little further, result in separate creatures. The segment of a low Annelid contains alimentary, vascular, nervous, excretory, reproductive, sensory and locomotive organs—all the organs required for carrying on life, save certain organs of external relation which its position excludes. When there is shown some vertebrate animal, or proto-vertebrate animal, that is divisible into parts each of which is in great measure physiologically independent, I shall feel obliged to abandon my position.
While this appendix is in hand I have received from another expert, whose view is in general agreement with my own, a letter containing the following passage:—
“You will see that Dohrn’s theory was the antithesis of your own view of vertebrate structure, namely that the vertebræ were formed by the segmentation, from mechanical causes of a body originally simple. This view of yours has been confirmed by later researches, which have shown that the most primitive forms allied to the Vertebrates, possessing the essential organs, viz., gill-slits, notochord, and dorsal nerve cord, are not segmented animals, like Annelids and Crustacea, but simple animals, having at most three regions, not exactly corresponding to segments. These primitive unsegmented forms are Ascidian tadpoles, Balanoglossus, and certain other primitive forms. The embryology of Vertebrates also proves that they are originally simple and not segmented animals, especially the fact that there is originally one pronephric duct or primitive kidney.”
Nevertheless there survives a leaning towards the notion of a segmental origin of the Vertebrata. But the repetitions of organs named in support of this notion have, I think, no more relation to the genesis of the vertebrate type than the multiplication of vertebræ in a snake has relation to the genesis of the vertebral column.
APPENDIX E.
THE SHAPES AND ARRANGEMENTS OF FLOWERS.
In Part IV., Chapter X., under the title of “The Shapes of Flowers,” I have, after describing their several kinds of symmetry, as habitually related to their positions, made some remarks by way of interpretation. The truth that flowers exhibit a radial symmetry when they are so placed as to be equally affected all round by incident forces, having been exemplified, and also the truth that they assume a bilateral symmetry when they are so placed that their two sides are conditioned in ways different from the ways in which their upper and lower parts are conditioned; I have gone on to inquire (in [§ 234]) by what causes such modifications of form are produced. I have stated that, originally, I inclined to ascribe them entirely to differences in the relations of the parts to physical forces—light, heat, gravitation, etc.; but that I found sundry facts stood in the way of this interpretation. And I have said that “Mr. Darwin’s investigations into the fertilization of Orchids led me to take into account an unnoticed agency.” Continuing to recognize the physical forces as factors having some influence, I have concluded that the most important factor is the action of insects; which, aiding most the fertilization of those flowers which most facilitate their entrance, produce, in course of generations, a form of flower specially adapted to the special position.
Though still adhering to this interpretation, I have since found reason to think that the original interpretation contains a larger portion of truth than I supposed at the time when I was led thus to revise it. While staying at Mürren, in Switzerland, in 1872, I observed some modifications in a species of Gentian, which proved to me that the action of incident physical forces on flowers is, in some cases, very rapid and decided. The species furnishing this evidence was the Gentiana Asclepiadea; which I found in a copse formed of bushes that were here wide apart and there close together. In some places not near to the bushes, the individuals of the species grew vertically; in other places, partially shaded, their inclined shoots curved in such directions as to get the most light; and in other cases their shoots were led to take directions almost or quite horizontal. That, along with these modifications in the directions of their shoots, there went adjustments in the attitudes of their leaves, was a fact not specially worthy of remark; for plants placed inside the windows of houses habitually show us that leaves quickly bend themselves into attitudes giving them the greatest amounts of light. But the fact which attracted my attention was, that the flowers changed their attitudes in an equally-marked manner. The radial distribution passed into a bilateral distribution with the greatest readiness. Comparison of the annexed figures will show the character of this change.
Figure I. represents part of a vertically-growing shoot. This belonged to an individual growing unimpeded by bushes, and getting light on all sides. Here it is observable that the pairs of leaves, placed alternately in directions transverse to one another—one pair pointing, say, north and south, and the next pair pointing east and west—maintain, taking them in the aggregate, a radial distribution; and it is also observable that the alternate pairs of flowers are similarly arranged.
Figure II. is a sketch from a shoot which leaned towards one side, and of which the higher part, as it bent more and more, got its upper side more and more differently conditioned from its lower side. Here we find that not only the leaves, but also the flowers, have adjusted themselves to the changed conditions. The leaves of the lowest pair hang out in the normal way, on the opposite sides of the axis, so that a plane passing through their surfaces will cut the axis transversely; and their two axillary flower-buds, c and d, are similarly placed on opposite sides of the axis. But at the other part of the shoot, we see both that the leaves have adjusted themselves so that their planes, no longer cutting the axis transversely, keep a fit adjustment with respect to the light; and also that the flowers, no longer on opposite sides of the axis, have bent round to the upper side, as at a and b.
Figure III. shows us this re-arrangement carried still further. The shoot it represents was growing in a direction nearly horizontal, and therefore receiving the light only on one side. And here, besides seeing that the leaves have so adjusted themselves that they all lie in approximately the same plane, which is parallel to the axis instead of transverse to it, we see that the two pairs of flower-buds have both come round to the upper side of the axis. So that in this shoot, the original radial symmetry in the arrangement of leaves and flowers, is completely changed into a bilateral symmetry.
Figs. 1–3.
These facts do not, it is true, prove any modification in the forms of the flowers themselves: they only prove modification in the grouping of the flowers. But beyond showing, as they do conclusively, how readily a bilateral arrangement of flowers is producible out of an arrangement that was not bilateral, by the action of light, etc.; they give increased probability to the belief that changes in the shapes of flowers are producible by the same agencies. Doubtless this change in the attitudes of the flower-buds is due to the action of light on their calyces and peduncles more than to its action on their unfolding corollas. But along with an action so decided on the growth of these sheathing and supporting organs containing chlorophyll, it is scarcely probable that there is no action on the growth of the petals, containing other colouring matter; considering that in both cases the development of the colouring matter depends on the action of light, and considering also the effect of light on petals, familiarly shown by their opening and closing. And if even but a small effect is producible on the growth of the corolla, then it is to be expected that light will be an agent in changing the form of the corolla, when the attitude of the flower causes its parts to be differently exposed. For a small effect on the individual flower will become a great effect in the flowers of remote descendants; provided the changed attitudes of the flowers preserve considerable constancy throughout the succession of individuals.
Be this as it may, however, the facts I have here described, which I doubt not other observers have seen paralleled in other plants, are instructive, as showing how quickly certain metamorphoses are produced, and as implying the easy establishment of such metamorphoses as permanent characters in a species, if the modifying conditions become permanent. The changes of arrangement I have pointed out, do not become permanent in this species because its individuals are variously affected by the modifying forces: on some they do not act at all, on some a little, on some much; and even on the same individual the different shoots are quite differently affected. But if the habit of this plant were greatly changed—if, for instance, by spreading into habitats yielding abundant nutriment, the plant became very luxuriant, and, multiplying its branches, grew shrub-like; it is clear that, being shaded by one another, these branches would be habitually circumstanced in a way like that which we here see produces bilateralness in the distribution of the flowers, if not in the flowers themselves; and being thus permanently affected, would become permanently bilateral. Accumulating by inheritance, what is here only an individual peculiarity, would become a peculiarity of the species—a specific character.
APPENDIX F.
PHYSIOLOGICAL (OR CONSTITUTIONAL) UNITS.
There has recently come before me a fact which has a significant bearing on the hypothesis of Constitutional units: serving, indeed, to give an apparently conclusive proof of its truth. Before stating it, however, I may with advantage re-state the several evidences already assigned in support of it.
1. First comes the à priori reason. These units in the germ of an organism which cause development into a special structure, cannot be chemical units—cannot be simply molecules of proteid substance in one or other of its forms; since these are not special to any type of creature but common to all creatures. Nor can they be what we may call morphological units—the cells or protoplasts; because in the early stages of development the cells of one organism are indistinguishable from those of others, and because were cells the units of composition there could be no interpretation of what are called unicellular organisms—nothing to account for the innumerable varieties of them. Hence, of necessity, the structural elements of which each organism is built, being neither proteid molecules nor cells, must be something between them: probably some complex combination of different isomeric forms of proteids.
2. That units of such natures are the essential components of each species of organism, is shown by the fact that in low types of creatures, little differentiated into special tissues, any considerable portion of the body will, when separated, begin to assume the structure proper to the species—a truth recently shown afresh by Prof. T. H. Morgan’s experiments on the regeneration of Planaria maculata (already referred to in [§ 206]) showing that various fragments cut out develop into new individuals, and that when, being too small they die before doing this, there is always an abortive attempt to assume the specific structure.
3. This truth that a portion of undifferentiated tissue, if adequate in quantity, assumes the structure of the type, illustrating as it does the proclivity of the constitutional units towards the structure of the species, allies itself with the phenomena of both agamogenesis and gamogenesis. The first of these shows us how a fissiparously-detached portion of the parental tissue takes on the same form as the parent; and the second shows how those small detached portions distinguished as sperm-cell and germ-cell also, when united and supplied with the needful materials, do the same thing.
4. But the set of phenomena following the union of sperm-cell and germ-cell differ in a certain way from those which follow when a gemma or other unfertilized portion of parental tissue is detached. The incomprehensibleness of this difference as otherwise contemplated, and the partial comprehensibleness of it when joined with the hypothesis of physiological units, furnish a further support for the hypothesis.
The familiar truth learnt by the tyro in algebra that an apparent solution which contains the unknown quantity is no solution, is a truth apt to be overlooked in other spheres than the algebraic. An illustration is supplied by the answer once given in Parliament to the question “What is an Archdeacon?”—“One who discharges archidiaconal functions.” But science as well as daily life furnishes examples. When it is said by Engelmann, Hensen, Hertwig, and Maupas that “the essential end of sexuality is rejuvenescence, that is, the restoration of growth-energy,” we have another instance of an explanation which explains nothing. What is the phenomenon to be explained? That unfolding of an organism from a germ which displays growth-energy. And what is the explanation? The giving of fresh growth-energy. The unknown quantity “growth-energy” is contained in the explanation proposed. There exists no conception of “juvenescence” save that derived from observing developing plants and animals; and if “re” be prefixed, no interpretation is thereby given to the unexplained thing “juvenescence.”
Coleridge somewhere comments on a source of fallacy which he calls the “hypostasis of a relation”—the changing of a relation into a thing. The plumber who tells you that water rises in a pump “by suction” supplies an instance. Having assumed suction to be an agent, he thinks that he understands how the piston does its work. Some of the explanations given of fertilization supply further instances. When it is said that sexual union has for its end “to give increased vigour to all the vital processes,” it is tacitly implied that vigour is a something—a something which can be given. But now, in the first place, it is only by the hypostasis of a relation that we are led to think of vigour as a thing. Vigour is a state—that state of a living body which enables it to give out much motion. What enables it to do this? The presence in it of abundant molecules containing much molecular motion which can be transformed into molar motion: the transformation being effected by the falling of these molecules into their simpler and relatively-inert components, which are thereupon excreted. Energy-containing matter is used up, and more energy or vigour can be given only by supplying more such matter. How then can the union of two nuclei—those of the sperm-cell and germ-cell—give vigour? Only an infinitesimal portion of vigour in the sense above explained exists in either, and the union of them leaves it still infinitesimal. And then, even supposing the vigour to be an entity and to be appreciable in quantity, how could it go on producing that immense combination of physiological actions seen in the unfolding of the germ into an organism? and how could it go on producing the physiological actions of an adult organism during a whole century?
May we not then say that these proposed explanations leave the question where it was—are nominal solutions, not real solutions?
5. But the hypothesis of constitutional units furnishes, if not a satisfactory answer yet, something in the nature of an answer—a true cause; that is to say, a cause actually known to us as operating in other cases. In [§ 92] it was pointed out that in proportion as units are similar, there may be built up from them an aggregate which is relatively stable, and that along with increasing dissimilarity the stability of the aggregate decreases. It was inferred that if a group of constitutional units belonging to one individual which have become moulded into relatively exact congruity with the organism and with one another by long co-operation, are mingled with some belonging to another individual which, differently circumstanced, has become somewhat different in itself and in its units, then the mass formed by the union of the two groups will be relatively unstable—relatively modifiable by incident forces. Whereas in either organism, no longer perpetually changed in the relations of its parts by growth, there is an approach towards equilibrium between the whole and its components, the components contributed by the two to form a germ, being slightly unlike one another, will not form a group in a state of equilibrium. The group they form will be capable of easy change by incident forces; and they will so be rendered free to follow their proclivities towards the typical form of the species. Inferring this we must also infer that so long as these two sets of slightly different units are not exposed to any constant forces tending to coerce them into the same form, there will continue to exist in the nuclei of all descendant cells this same relative instability and consequent plasticity.
Such evidence as we have verifies this interpretation. There is first the universal fact that development of the germ begins when it is exposed to an incident force—heat—the undulations of which, increasing the oscillations of the mixed units, give them greater freedom to arrange themselves in conformity with their type. We see this alike when spring warmth makes a seed germinate and when the warmth of a sitting hen sets up organization in her eggs. Heat frees the molecules of inorganic matter from local restraints and, as we see in molten metal, lets them yield to other forces; and similarly in this organic matter, the units are made free to follow their proclivities. Then, secondly, there comes the evidence from comparisons between the effects of mixing constitutional units differing in various degrees. Let the cluster of mixed units be derived from animals that are ordinally distinct. Nothing happens. The units each contributes tend to arrange themselves after the parental type. Hence a conflict between the tendencies towards two markedly unlike structures, and no structure arises. Suppose the mixed units come from two kindred species—say horse and ass. The structures which they respectively tend to form, being in their main characters alike, there is such co-operation as produces a working organism but an organism in certain respects imperfect—a mule. Suppose, again, the units come from two varieties of the same species. A perfect organism results, and, as shown by Mr. Darwin when detailing the effects of crossing, an unusually vigorous organism. The units being more unlike than those belonging to the same variety, the instability of the germ-plasm is unusually great, and the transformations which constitute development and action become unusually active. When, as in ordinary cases, the units are supplied by members of the same variety who have not been made very much alike by their antecedents, there follows the usual amount of organic vigour. Coming now to the results of breeding in-and-in—breeding between individuals whose constitutions (i.e. constitutional units) have for generations been growing more alike in the absence of crossing with other stirps—we see that diminution of organic vigour is displayed: there is a decrease in the rate of physiological change. Finally, on coming to a closer relationship, as in marriages between cousins, in whom the constitutional units are more than commonly alike, we see there frequently follows either barrenness or the production of feeble offspring.
All these facts, then, are congruous with the hypothesis that the use of fertilization is the mixing of unlike units, and consequent production of plasticity. Leaving out cases in which the unlikenesses are so great as wholly to prevent co-operation among the units, the degree of vigour, that is, the activity of physiological change, is great where the unlikeness is great and diminishes with the approach towards likeness.
6. The existence of constitutional units seems otherwise necessarily implied. I refer to the fact that no organism is a homogeneous mean between its parents but consists of a mixture of parts, some following one parent and some the other. Among illustrations of this the most conspicuous are those yielded by the variously-mixed colours of hair or feathers. Horses, cattle, dogs, cats, hens, pigeons display these mixtures: colours in one place like the mother and in another place like the father. As the internal organs are invisible, and as visible organs have indefinite shapes and graduate indefinitely into adjacent ones, the mixture of traits is elsewhere less conspicuous; but occasional marked cases (especially in malformations) leave no doubt that it pervades the entire organism.
This peculiarity of transmission seems necessarily to imply that there are distinct units derived from the two parents, and that in the course of development there is more or less segregation of them—those of the one origin predominating so far in some places as to give special likeness to one parent, and those derived from the other doing the like in other places. All which interpretation is impossible unless the hypothesis of constitutional units be admitted.
7. I come at length to the special evidence referred to at the outset. It is evidence of the same nature as that just assigned, but carried to a higher stage. It is furnished not by the segregation of traits derived from two parents of the same variety, but is furnished by the segregation of traits derived from parents of different varieties. In articles on “Bud Variations or Sports” (Gardener’s Chronicle, 1891) Dr. Masters gives various examples of the separation or unmixing of ancestral constitutions. Mr. Noble formed a hybrid between Clematis Jackmani and C. patens. One of these varieties flowers in the autumn on new wood, while the other flowers in the spring on old wood; and the result is that flowers of two kinds, quite unlike, are produced at different parts of the year, and that by pruning so as to cut away one or other set of shoots, the plant may be made to produce exclusively for the time being one or other sort of flower.
“Another very interesting case of unmixing, or, if it be preferred, of partial mixture, is afforded by Neubert’s Berberis. This is a hybrid between the evergreen pinnate-leaved Mahonia and the deciduous simple-leaved Berberis vulgaris, and it bears leaves some of which are intermediate in appearance, while others are much like those of one or other of its parents.
“A not uncommon illustration of a similar kind, is the production of a Peach and a Nectarine on the same branch, and we have just learnt from Canon Ellacombe that some of the Berlin Hellebores show evidence of their hybrid nature by occasionally producing foliage [and flowers?] of the two parents separately from the same root-stock.
“In addition to the cases given above, we may here cite a few more which have come under our notice, such as a Chrysanthemum, half the florets of which are of one colour, half of another. A hybrid Calanthe, showing a similar piebald variation, is shown in Fig. 14. A very curious case was that of the Narcissus received from Mr. Walker, and in which flowers of two distinct varieties sprang from the same bulb. Grapes not uncommonly show their crossed origin by presenting a striped appearance, one stripe being of one colour, one of another, as may also be seen in the Orange, Apple, Lemon, and Currant.”
Thus, however the germ-plasm is constituted its essential components cannot be all alike. Before there can be this dissociation of ancestral characters, there must be in the germ-plasm different elements capable of being dissociated. This single fact seems to compel us to assume constitutional units.
APPENDIX G.
THE INHERITANCE OF FUNCTIONALLY-CAUSED MODIFICATIONS.
In Part II, Chapter XA, I have confessed that the process by which a structure changed by use or disuse affects the sperm-cells or germ-cells whence arise descendants, is unimaginable: without, however, inferring that therefore such a process does not exist. With others it seems different. Some three years ago the following expression of opinion came to me from a zoological expert:—
“Many zoologists—most of us here at Cambridge—are intensely opposed to the doctrine of the inheritability of acquired variations. Even assuming that the developmental power of a germ is determined by its molecular structure (and I for one would question this—Driesch and his school when they find that they can squeeze a developing egg into all sorts of shapes without altering the final result, that one blastomere in an egg which has divided into 8 is still able to reproduce a whole embryo—question it also), we still fail to conceive any means by which, for instance, a change in the development of a muscle or nerve can effect a corresponding change in that part of the germ which is destined to produce a corresponding part in the descendant.”
Here it will be observed that belief in the inheritance of structural effects wrought by use and disuse, is rejected because of inability “to conceive any means” by which the modifications produced in an organ can effect a correlated modification in the germ of a descendant: failure to conceive is the test. The implication is that some alternative hypothesis is accepted because the correlating of a variation in an organ with a corresponding germ-variation is effected by a means which is conceivable. This is the hypothesis of Weismann. Concerning its conceivability I have, in the chapter just named, already written as follows:—
“If we follow Prof. Weismann we are led into an astounding supposition. He admits that every variable part must have a special determinant, and that this results in the assumption of over two hundred thousand for the four wings of a butterfly. Let us ask what must happen in the case of a peacock’s feather. On looking at the eye near its end, we see that the minute processes on the edge of each lateral thread must have been in some way exactly adjusted, in colour and position, so as to fall into line with the processes on adjacent threads: otherwise the symmetrical arrangement of coloured rings would be impossible. Each of these processes, then, being an independent variable, must have had its particular determinant. Now there are about 300 threads on the shaft of a large feather, and each of them bears on the average 1,600 processes, making for the whole feather 480,000 of these processes. For one feather alone there must have been 480,000 determinants, and for the whole tail many millions. And these, along with the determinants for the detailed parts of all the other feathers, and for the variable components of all organs forming the body at large, must have been contained in the microscopic head of a spermatozoon!” [And each of them must, throughout all the complex developmental processes, have preserved the ability to find its way to the exact place where it was wanted!]
If my Cambridge correspondent is able to conceive this process implied by the hypothesis of Weismann, I can only say that he has an enviable power of imagination.
But now comes the strange fact that an impossibility of thought implied by Weismann’s hypothesis does not cause rejection of it, but yet is urged as a reason for rejecting an alternative hypothesis which does not imply it. One objector cannot conceive that “a change in the development of a muscle or nerve can effect a corresponding change in that part of the germ which is destined to produce a corresponding part in the descendant”; and another objector says it is “very hard to believe” that a functionally-changed organ will so affect spermatozoa and ova that “one particular part of them will be so altered that the organisms which grow up from them will be able to present the same modification on the application of a different stimulus.” It is tacitly assumed by both that, as in the hypothesis of Weismann so in the counter-hypothesis, a particular part of the germ-plasm gives origin to a particular part of the developed organism. But nothing of the kind is implied. The nature of the counter-hypothesis (at any rate as held by me) is entirely misapprehended. Anyone who turns back to the chapters in the first volume where the conception of physiological units (or constitutional units) was set forth, or who re-reads the foregoing appendix, will see that there is altogether excluded any idea of correlation between certain parts of the germ and certain parts of the resulting organism. The units are supposed to be all alike, and during the progressive embryological changes local groups of them are supposed to take on different forms and structures under the combined forces, general and local, brought to bear on them. This conception is necessitated by all the evidence. The fact disclosed by the experiments of Driesch, Wilson, and Chabry, that from fractions of an ovum structures may be obtained like that obtained from the whole ovum, only smaller, necessitates it. The fact that any sufficiently large fragment of a polyp or planarian, no matter from what part of the body taken, will develop into a complete polyp or planarian necessitates it. The fact that from an undifferentiated portion of a plant, even so small as a scale, a complete plant may arise necessitates it. And it is necessitated by the fact that among plants, roots are produced by imbedded shoots and shoots by roots, as well as by the fact that low animals, such as hydroids, if deprived of both head and root, will develop a head from the root part and a root from the head part, if their respective conditions are inverted. All this evidence shows conclusively that the component units of each species, whether existing in the germ or in the developed organism, are, when not yet differentiated by local conditions, all alike, and that the notion of special parts of the germ-plasm correlated with special parts of the resulting organism, is entirely alien to the hypothesis.
“But how do the units of a modified organ affect the units of the germ in such wise that these produce an inherited modification of the organ?” will be asked. This difficulty has been dealt with in [§§ 97d, 97e], where the analogy between the social organism and the individual organism has been brought in aid: serving, if not to furnish a conception, yet to furnish an adumbration. Regarding citizens as the units of an unfolding society, say a colony, it was pointed out that the nature they inherit from a mother-society gives them a proclivity towards a society of like structure, the traits of which are progressively assumed as the colony grows sufficiently large to make them possible. At the same time it was pointed out that while the influence of the entire aggregate on the individuals is seen in this forming of them into a society of the inherited type, the influences of local circumstances, and of individuals on one another, in each group, make them differentiate into appropriate social structures, taking on fit occupations and industries: the implication being that in virtue of their inherited natures they all have partial capacities for the various activities they undertake; so that an immigrant clerk sets up a tavern, a compositor takes to carpentering, and a university man rides after cattle or is employed on a sheep farm. Evidence was given in that place, as in the above paragraph, that the constitutional units of an organism similarly have all of them potentialities for taking on this or that structure and mode of action which local conditions determine. It was further argued that as citizens are continually being remoulded by their society into congruity with it, and, if circumstances change them, tend to remould their society; so in the individual organism, there is this reciprocal action of the whole on the units and of the units on the whole. Hence it was inferred that the modified units in any modified part tend to diffuse modifications like their own through the units at large: being aided by the circulation of protoplasm, as suggested in [§§ 54d] and [97f]. And it was urged that, however inconceivably complex such a process may be, yet it seems not incredible when we recognise the probability that an organism is more or less permeable to undulations propagated by its molecules: Rontgen rays giving warrant. If such units throughout the tissues may take in and send out ethereal waves which bring it into rhythmical relations with others of its kind and tend to produce congruity, it becomes, if not conceivable still supposable, that throughout the circulating protoplasm there goes on a continual harmonization of its components—a moulding of each by all and of all by each. Should it be said that such a process is too marvellous to be reasonably assumed, the reply is that it is not more marvellous than heredity itself, which, were it not familiar to us, would be thought incredible.
But as I have said in the place referred to—“At last then we are obliged to admit that the actual organizing process transcends conception. It is not enough to say that we cannot know it; we must say that we cannot even conceive it:” can only conceive the possibility of a suggested interpretation.
Hence we have to rely upon evidences of other kinds. Among these, some which I think dispose absolutely of the fashionable hypothesis while they harmonize with the opposed hypothesis, have now to be named. That their implication should not have been generally recognized would have seemed to me incomprehensible were it not that I have myself only now observed this implication. The facts are these:—
“Verlot mentions a gardener who could distinguish 150 kinds of camellia, when not in flower; and it has been positively asserted that the famous old Dutch florist Voorhelm, who kept above 1,200 varieties of the hyacinth, was hardly ever deceived in knowing each variety by the bulb alone. Hence we must conclude that the bulbs of the hyacinth and the branches and leaves of the camellia, though appearing to an unpractised eye absolutely undistinguishable, yet really differ.” (Darwin, Variation of Animals and Plants, &c., vol. ii, p. 251.)
More recently testimony to like effect has been given by Dr. Maxwell Masters, and has already been quoted by me in a note to [§ 286] in illustration of another truth. He says concerning such variations:—
“To the untrained eye, the primordial differences noted are often very slight; even the botanist, unless his attention be specially directed to the matter, fails to see minute differences which are perceptible enough to the raiser or his workmen.... These apparently trifling morphological differences are often associated with physiological variations which render some varieties, say of wheat, much better enabled to resist mildew and disease generally than others. Some, again, prove to be better adapted for certain soils or for some climates than others; some are less liable to injury from predatory birds than others, and so on.”
In his Vegetable Teratology, p. 493, Dr. Masters names another fact having a like implication—the fact that among seedling stocks which have not yet flowered, those which will produce double flowers are distinguishable. He says:—
“This separation of the single from the double-flowered plants, M. Chatié tells us is not so difficult as might be supposed. The single stocks, he explains, have deep green leaves (glabrous in certain species), rounded at the top, the heart being in the form of a shuttlecock, and the plant stout and thick-set in its general aspect, while the plants yielding double flowers have very long leaves of a light green colour, hairy and curled at the edges, the heart consisting of whitish leaves, curved so that they enclose it completely.”
What is the general truth implied? Clearly that there exists no such thing as an independent local variation. Some marked change in the form or colour of a flower or a fruit draws attention; and, being a change which interests the florist or gardener, pecuniarily or otherwise, not only draws attention but usually monopolizes attention: the natural impression produced being that this variation stands there by itself—is without relation to variations elsewhere. But now it turns out that there are concomitant variations all over the plant. Even in underground bulbs certain appreciable differences go along with certain conspicuous differences in the flowers. And if along with a striking change in a flower which the florist contemplates, there go changes all over the plant not obvious to careless observers but visible to him, we must infer that there are everywhere minute differences which even the florist cannot perceive: the whole constitution of the plant has diverged in some measure from the constitutions of kindred plants. Every local variation implies a change pervading the entire organism, manifested in concomitant variations everywhere else.
If so, what becomes of the hypothesis of determinants—the hypothesis that there is a special element in the germ-plasm which results in a special local modification in the adult organism? That there are no facts supporting it has been all along manifest; but now it is manifest that the facts directly contradict it.
At the same time it may be remarked that while the facts are wholly incongruous with the hypothesis of determinants and its accompanying elaborate speculation, they are not incongruous with the alternative hypothesis. Impossible though it may be to imagine the natures of those ultimate units peculiar to each species, which have proclivities towards the particular form of organization characterizing it, yet that a change of structure arising in one part of the organism is accompanied by multitudinous changes of structure in other parts of the organism, is not only congruous with the belief that there exist such constitutional units, but yields it distinct support. For if, as above argued, a conspicuous local variation is not the result of any modification of units special to the locality, but is the result of a modification of the units at large, then it must happen that such modification must have its effects on all other parts of the organism; so that there cannot fail to result all those small concomitant variations above indicated.
May we not also say that it becomes less incomprehensible that structural changes caused by use and disuse are inherited? If, as we see, a local variation spontaneously arising is accompanied by multitudinous other local variations, implying a necessary correlation between each local variation and the general constitution of the organism; then it may be argued that if a marked change of function in an organ causes increase or decrease of it, this general correlation implies that there must be a reciprocal reaction between the part and the whole, tending to re-establish their congruity. The constitution at large will in so far be changed, and along with its change will go corresponding changes in the sperm-cells and germ-cells.
Finally let me add, not another argument, but another fact of observation, of the kind which opponents demand, but which, when they are from time to time furnished, are severally pooh-poohed as not enough. Each of them is spoken of as a solitary fact and slighted as inadequate; and when by and by another is named, this is treated in the same way; so that the facts which if brought together would be recognized as sufficient are never brought together. That to which I refer is set forth in a pamphlet by M. Leo Errera, Professor at the University of Brussels, entitled “Hérédite d’un Caractère acquis chez un Champignon pluricellulaire;” being an account of experiments of Dr. Hunger, at the Botanical Institute in Brussels. First enumerating various instances of adaptations to climate, as those of plants which, fitted to northern regions, preserve their constitutional rapidity of growth and seeding when brought south, and do this for several generations, he goes on to detail the culture-experiments of M. Hunger, and sums up the results of these in the following words:—
“On déduit de là que:
“1o Les conidies d’Aspergillus niger sont adaptées à la concentration du milieu où a vécu l’individu qui les porte; cet effet est encore plus marqué après deux générations passées dans un milieu donné (Expér. I et II);
“2o II s’agit d’une véritable adaptation et non pas simplement d’un accroissement de vigueur chez les conidies provenant des liquides concentrés, car ces mêmes conidies germent moins rapidement et donnent des plantes moins vigoureuses que les conidies normales lorsqu’on les sème de nouveau sur le milieu-type: en s’adaptant aux liquides concentrés, elles se sont désadaptées du liquide normal (Expér. III);
“3o Une génération passée sur le liquide normal n’efface pas l’influence d’une ou de deux générations antérieures passées sur une liquide plus concentré (Expér. IV).
“Tous ces résultats concordent: ils montrent une légère, mais incontestable transmission héréditaire de l’adaptation au milieu.”