We must not forget that in this chapter we are not studying real individual morphogenesis as the realisation of what has been inherited, but that at present we regard morphogenesis proper as an accomplished fact. Morphogenesis proper has laid the general lines of organisation; and now adaptation during the functional life, so to speak, imposes a second kind of organisation upon the first. It is for that reason that the meaning of the word “cause” is now becoming a little different from what it was before.

In order to study a little more in detail what has been discovered about morphological adaptation in animals and plants, let us separate our materials into two groups, one of them embracing adaptations with regard to functional changes from without, the other adaptations to those functional changes which come from the very nature of functioning. Almost all of our previous general considerations have applied to the former group, with which we shall now proceed to deal.

ADAPTATIONS TO FUNCTIONAL CHANGES FROM WITHOUT[78]

The differences between plants grown in very dry air, very moist air, and water, respectively, are most distinctly seen in all the tissues that assist in what is called transpiration, that is, the exchange of water-vapour between the plant and the medium, but especially in the epidermis and the conductive fibres, both of which are much stronger in plants grown in the dry. Indeed, it seems from experiments that transpiration is the most essential factor to which “adaptation” occurs in amphibious plants, though the changes of the mechanical conditions according to the medium also seem to have some sort of structural effect. If plants stand very deeply in water, the conditions of illumination, so important for assimilation in plants, may have been altered, and therefore much of the structural change can be attributed also to them. It is unimportant in our general question what is due to one of these factors and what to the other. That there is a real sort of adaptation cannot be doubtful; and the same is true, as experimental observations of the last few years have shown, with regard to the structural differences between so-called sun-leaves and shade-leaves of plants grown in the air: it has been actually shown here that the functional life of the former goes on better in the sun, of the latter better in the shade.

It is very important to emphasise this point, as the adaptive character of all sorts of structural differences in plants dependent on light and on moisture has lately been denied, on the supposition that there is only a stopping of organogenesis in the case of the more simple, a continuance in the case of the more complicated modification, but nothing else. Indeed, all morphological adaptation has been conceived as only consisting in differences dependent upon the absence or the presence of necessary means or causes of development, and as offering no problem of its own. We have gained the right position from which to oppose this argument, it seems to me, in our formula that all adaptations do relate not directly to the agents of the medium, but to changes of functional states induced by those agents; that adaptations only are “adaptations” by being correctives to the functional state.

There simply is an “adaptation” of structure in such a sense in all the cases we have mentioned. We can say neither more nor less. Granted that one of the outside factors which comes into account is merely a necessary “means”: then why is the histological consequence of the presence of the means an actual adaptation to it as far as its relation to functioning is concerned—why is the consequence of its absence also an adaptation to this absence in its relation to functioning? Why, to complete the series, is the degree of the consequence of its presence an adaptation to the degree of its presence?

All these relationships, which are so many facts, have been absolutely overlooked by those who have been pleased to deny morphological adaptation to functional changes from without.

To do full justice to them we may speak of “primary” regulative adaptations in all the cases mentioned above, applying the word “primary,” just as was done with regard to restitutions, to the fact that there is some sort of regulation in the normal connection of processes. We reserve the title of “secondary adaptations” for cases such as those described, for instance, by Vöchting,[79] where not merely one and the same tissue originates adaptively with regard to the degree of its normal functioning, but where a profound disturbance of all functioning connections, due to the removal of portions of the organisation, is followed by histological changes at absolutely abnormal localities; that is, where a real change of the kind of functioning is the consequence of the adaptation. It, of course, will be found very difficult to discriminate such phenomena from real restitutions, though logically there exists a very sharp line between them.

A few more concrete instances may now close this account of adaptation to functional changes coming from without. Though almost all the adaptive characters in the aquatic forms of amphibious plants represent a less complicated state of organisation than the corresponding structures in their terrestrial forms, and therefore have wrongly been regarded as simply due to a stopping of morphogenesis for want of necessary means, yet there are a few of them that are positive complications in comparison with the land-forms: the so-called aërenchyme, especially well developed in the water-form of Jussiaea is such an instance. This tissue stands in the direct service of respiration, which is more difficult to be accomplished under water than ordinarily, and represents a true adaptation to the altered function.