Look at any active fish darting through the water by sharp strokes of its tail,—watch the curved form of a snake as it glides through the grass, or the graceful swan bending his neck as he sails over the lake,—and you will see how easily and smoothly the joints of the backbone must move one upon the other. Then turn to the stag, and note how jauntily he carries his heavy antlers; look at the powerful frame of the lion, watch an antelope leap, or a tiger bound against the bars of his cage, and you will acknowledge how powerful this bony column must be which forms the chief support of the body, and carries those massive heads and those strong and lusty limbs.
Nor is it only by its flexibility and strength that this jointed column is such an advantage to its possessors; the backbone has a special part to play as the protector of a most valuable and delicate part of the body. We have already learnt in Life and her Children to understand the importance of the nerve-telegraph to animals in the struggle for life. We found its feeble beginnings in the jelly-fish and the star-fish; we saw it spreading out over the body of the snail; we traced it forming a line of knots in the worm, with head-stations round the neck, which became more and more powerful in the intelligent insects. But in all these creatures the stations of nerve-matter from which the nerves run out into the body are merely embedded in the soft flesh, and have no special protection, with the exception of a gristly covering in the cuttle-fish. We ourselves, and other backboned animals, have unprotected nerve-stations like these in the throat, the stomach, and the heart, and cavity of the body. But we have something else besides, for very early in the history of the backboned animals the gristly cord along the back began to form a protecting sheath round the line of nerve-stations stretching from the head to the tail, so that this special nerve-telegraph was safely shut in and protected all along its course.
A careful examination of the backbone of any fish, after the flesh has been cleared off, will show that on the top of each joint (or vertebra) of the backbone is a ring or arch of bone; and when all the joints are fastened together, these rings form a hollow tube or canal, in which lies that long line of nervous matter called the spinal cord, which thus passes, well protected, all along the body, till, when it reaches the head, it becomes a large mass shut safely in a strong box, the skull, where it forms the brain.
Here, then, besides the unprotected nerve-stations, we have a much more perfect nerve-battery, the spinal cord, carried in a special sheath formed of the arches of the backbone, which is at once strong and yielding, so that the delicate telegraph is safe from all ordinary danger. Now when we remember how important the nerves are,—how they are the very machinery by which intelligence works, so that without them the eye could not see, the ear hear, nor the animal have any knowledge of what is going on around it,—we see at once that here was an additional power which might be most valuable to the backboned division. And so it has proved, for slowly but surely through the different classes of fish, amphibia (frogs and newts), reptiles, birds, and mammalia, this cord, especially that larger portion of it forming the brain, has been increasing in vigour, strength, and activity, till it has become the wonderful instrument of thought in man himself.
We see, then, that our interest in the backboned or vertebrate animals will be of a different kind from that which we found in the boneless or invertebrate ones. There we watched Life trying different plans, each successful in its way, but none broad enough or pliable enough to produce animals fitted to take the lead all over the world. Now we are going to trace how, from a more promising starting-point, a number of such different forms as fish, reptile, bird, and four-footed beast, have gradually arisen and taken possession of the land, the water, and the air, pressing forward in the race for life far beyond all other divisions of animal life.
On the one hand, these forms are all linked together by the fact that they have a backbone protecting a nerve-battery, and that they have never more than two pair of limbs; while every new discovery shows how closely they are all related to each other. On the other hand, they have made use of this backbone, and the skeleton it carries, in such very different ways that out of the same bones and the same general plan unlike creatures have been built up, such as we should never think of classing together if we did not study their structure.
What the lives of these creatures are, and what they have been in past time, we must now try to understand. And first we shall naturally ask, Where did the backboned animals begin? Where should they begin but in the water, where we found all the other divisions making their first start, where food is so freely brought by passing currents, where movement from place to place is much easier, and where there are no such rapid changes as there are on the land from dry to damp, from heat to cold, or from bright leafy summer, with plenty of food, to cold cheerless winter, when starvation often stares animals in the face?
It is not easy to be sure exactly how the backboned animals began, but the best clue we have to the mystery is found in a little half-transparent creature about two inches long, which is still to be found living upon our coast. This small insignificant animal is called the “Lancelet,”[4] because it is shaped something like the head of a lance, and it is in many ways so imperfect that naturalists believe it to be a degraded form, like the acorn-barnacle; that is to say, that it has probably lost some of the parts which its ancestors once possessed. But in any case it is the most simple backboned animal we have, and shows us how the first feeble forms may have lived.
Fig. 1.