FACTORS OF EVOLUTION.
An organism, as living matter, does not stand in opposition to, or outside of, the rest of the world. It is part of the world. It receives matter from its surroundings, and gives some back; therefore it is influenced by its surroundings. It is acted upon, and it reacts upon the latter, and if these change (and they are nowhere and never strictly the same) the organism also varies. It adapts itself, and if it does not, or, rather, cannot, do so, it dies, because it is unfit to live in the world, or, rather, in those particular surroundings and conditions in which it happens to be. That organism which yields most easily, accommodates itself most quickly, has the best chance of existence—survival of the fittest. 'Fitness' in this case does not mean fitness to live, but rather a particular condition which happens to fit into the new circumstances.
Adaptation and variation are simultaneous: they are fundamentally the same. If there were no adaptability and no variability, those simplest of organisms which we suppose to have sprung into existence in the pre-Cambrian period would long ago have ceased to exist.
It is the physiological momentum which models the organism, and, by causing its adaptations, has produced its organs by change of function. Gegenbaur illustrates this most important fundamental truth by an excellent example. Suppose that, in an absolutely simple organism, all the parts of its exterior are under the same functional conditions, so that each part of the surface can take in food, and that this is digested, assimilated, in the interior. There is, in this condition, not yet any definite organ. If this organism sinks to the bottom and becomes sessile, this part is excluded from taking in nourishing matter, while the opposite surface alone remains, or becomes more, fit for this function. Thus, a simple variation and adaptation has been produced, and if the same organism continues in this position, its bottom cells will estrange themselves from their original function, while those on the top will convey the food into the interior, where a cavity will be formed, ultimately with a permanent opening, the primitive gut and mouth, both very different from the 'foot.'
Thus, by adaptation and variation the organism acquires new functions, organs, features, and it gives up and eventually loses others. Its offspring is like it. Like produces like. This is the principle of heredity. Adaptation, when going on generation after generation on the same lines in the same direction, becomes continuous, and has an intensifying, cumulative effect. By always weeding out from a flock of pigeons those birds which possess more dark feathers than the rest, we ultimately produce an entirely white race. We hurry on what Nature does slowly.
The inheritance of acquired characters becomes very obvious in the following example: The Monera are the lowest living organisms known; they consist of a mass of protoplasm, and are still devoid of even a nucleus. They multiply simply by division; each half is like the other, and like the parent (which by this process has ceased to exist), except that each is smaller and has to grow. A certain Moneron, Protomyxa aurantiaca, is orange-coloured, and its offspring is from the beginning of the same colour, and this colour has been acquired by that kind of Monera-like protoplasm which thereby has become the species called Aurantiaca. We have no reason for assuming that there existed from the beginning of life not only colourless, but also red, orange, and other kinds of protoplasm. In these simplest of organisms the whole process of heredity seems very obvious; but in the higher ones, in those which propagate by eggs, the problem is infinitely more complicated. It is true that the egg is, strictly, nothing but a small part of the parental organism, and we know from everyday experience that this single egg-cell has in it all the attributes and characteristics of the parent; but these attributes and characteristics make their appearance successively, just as the egg cell of a chick has neither wings nor feathers, not even a backbone, but develops these organs because its parents have them.
The theory that acquired characters are hereditary has often been vigorously attacked; but the champions of the negative position have not given us anything satisfactory instead. They question, also, the principle of adaptation as a factor in Evolution, and substitute 'variation,' coupled with 'natural selection.'
They point to Darwin's argument: (1) It is a fact that animals and plants produce a much greater number of young than in their turn grow up to propagate the race; (2) no two of the frequently many individuals of the same breed are exactly alike, although the differences may be hidden to our perception (this is quite true, because no two entities can live in absolutely the same place and conditions); (3) through heredity the offspring takes over the faculties and features of the parents; (4) what decides which of the many individuals (each one possessing some aberration or variation) are to live and to propagate the race?—obviously those individual variations which happen to make the lucky possessors most fit for the struggle for life.
So far, well; but the 'Neo-Darwinians' imagine that 'adaptation' is not the cause, but the result, the effect, of the formation of species. According to them, the species are neither adapted by, nor do they adapt themselves to, their surroundings. Adaptation is to them an accomplished fact, a condition which a species happens to be in because its particular variation is the one which, to the exclusion of others, suits or fits into its surroundings. Such a view simply takes variation for granted, and stipulates it as a something a priori, without raising the further necessary question, why there should be any variations at all. Why, indeed, unless they are caused by external influences? Haeckel elucidated this by the conception of adaptation as explained in the foregoing pages.