Physiology: The Science of the Body

by Ernest G. Martin

chromatin material is not a simple lump in the nucleus. It looks rather like a tiny string of beads thrown down carelessly, so as to become all mixed together. Each bead is a single bit of chromatin, and these bits are strung on a tiny thread. In an ordinary cell the beads are so mixed together that no order can be distinguished among them, but if a cell that is about to begin dividing is looked at it is found that the string has straightened itself out, and also that it has broken into pieces. The individual pieces are called chromosomes and their number is always the same for any one kind of animal or plant. There is a parasitic worm whose cells have only four chromosomes, and the number ranges from this up to as many as forty-eight in human beings. It may be that other species have even more, but they become so hard to count when there are as many as forty-eight that the number cannot be stated with certainty. So far as can be judged, the number of chromosomes has little to do with the complexity of the animal or plant, for some complex forms have few chromosomes, and some simple forms many.

At the same time as the chromatin is breaking up into chromosomes two tiny spots put in their appearance in the protoplasm of the cell on opposite sides of the nucleus, and tiny threads extend from one spot to the other through the nucleus. There are as many threads as there are chromosomes, the whole group making up a spindle-shaped figure. The chromosomes now become arranged at the middle of the spindle, and apparently each chromosome becomes fastened to a thread. Next each chromosome splits lengthwise through the middle and by what looks like a shortening of the threads the split halves are pulled apart and drawn to opposite tips of the spindle. The purpose of this elaborate scheme seems to be to insure an exactly equal division of the chromosomes between the cells, and the necessity of such an equal division will become clear when we learn something of what the chromatin is for. Meanwhile the description of cell division can be finished by saying that after the halves of the chromosomes are pulled apart the whole mass of protoplasm divides through the middle. As we stated above, sometimes the cells thus produced are alike and sometimes they are different, according to whether they are destined to become parts of similar or of different structures. In either case the chromatin material that goes into the two cells is exactly alike, so that if the cells themselves become different there must have developed a difference in the protoplasm at the two ends of the cell from which they came. Our bodies are made up of millions of cells, of a great many different kinds, but however different they may be the chromatin of each exactly duplicates that of every other one, or did when the cells were first formed; there is reason to believe that the chromatin may become changed during the lifetime of the cells, at least in some cases.

We may be interested in inquiring how long this process of cell division keeps up. Many children do not get through growing until they are twenty years old or more. Does cell division keep on during all this time? More than that; are there any cases of cell division that continue after full growth is reached? The answer to both these questions can be given in a brief paragraph. There are some tissues, particularly the outer layer of the skin, the connective tissues, the blood-corpuscle-forming tissues, and the reproductive tissues, in which cell division continues during all or most of life. The others finish at birth or shortly thereafter. We are born with the precise number of muscle cells with which we shall die, unless accident deprives us of some meanwhile; and if this happens no new ones will be formed to replace those that are lost. The same is true of gland cells. The last cell divisions among nerve cells are believed to occur within a few months after birth. As most of us have observed in our own cases, bodily injuries, if at all severe, are followed by the formation of scars. This means that connective tissue has grown in to fill the place of the cells destroyed by the injury, which cannot be replaced by cells of their own sort, since they have lost the power of cell division.

We have tried, in the above paragraphs, to get some idea of what living cells are like, and how they are derived, but have not attempted any detailed picture of particular kinds of cells. That will have to wait till we reach the story of the different kinds of bodily activity, when the cells that carry on each kind will have to be described more exactly. Something has also been told of the chromosomes, but the full account of them and their meaning is to be taken up in a later chapter, devoted to the matter of heredity and reproduction. In what remains of the present chapter we wish to talk about the conditions in which cells live so that we shall easily picture how they carry on their metabolism.

As an introduction to this topic a word may be said about the wide differences of complexity that are found in animals. They range from the simplest imaginable, a single cell with its nucleus and with protoplasm that appears almost uniform throughout, to a highly organized body like that of man, composed of millions of cells of many different kinds. Between these extremes almost every possible form is seen. The one-celled animals themselves show a wide range of complexity, and as soon as animals begin to be formed of numbers of cells grouped together the possibilities of complexity increase in proportion. One important difference between one-celled and many-celled animals needs to be emphasized; that is the matter of size. There are definite limits to the size that a single cell may attain; these limits are just over the boundary of naked eye vision. If animals are to attain larger sizes, they must necessarily be composed of many cells. The life of a single-celled animal presents no special problem, since it has only to take in through its outer layer from the surrounding water the various food materials and the oxygen which its metabolism requires, and to discharge into the same water any chemical products that may result from that same metabolism, and the question of whether it will live or die depends only on whether the water in which it happens to be contains sufficient materials and is otherwise suitable as a place to live. A many-celled animal, whose cells are arranged in not more than two layers, is in practically the same situation, for every cell has a frontage on the water and so can carry on interchanges of material directly; but the moment complexity reaches a stage where any cells are buried beneath other cells some special arrangement must be provided so that the buried cells can obtain the needed substances for their metabolism. The arrangement consists, in general, of furnishing what may be called an internal water frontage for the buried cells. In other words, complex animals have spaces all through their bodies, and these spaces are filled with fluid. There are no living tissues so dense that the cells of which they are composed are completely cut off from contact with body fluid. In thinking of our own bodies we should realize that this same arrangement applies; every one of our millions of living cells has contact with the fluid with which all the spaces of our bodies are filled, and it is from this fluid that the cells obtain the materials for their metabolism, and into this same fluid they discharge whatever substances their metabolism may produce.