To the timid reasoner that assumption of possibilities may seem startling. But assuredly it is no more so than seemed, a century ago, the assumption that man has evolved, through the agency of "natural laws" only, from the lowest organism. Yet the timidity of that elder day has been obliged by the progress of the past century to adapt its conceptions to that assured sequence of events. And some day, in all probability, the timidity of to-day will be obliged to take that final logical step which to-day's knowledge foreshadows as a future if not a present necessity.

THE MECHANISM OF THE CELL

Whatever future science may be able to accomplish in this direction, however, it must be admitted that present science finds its hands quite full, without going farther afield than to observe the succession of generations among existing forms of life. Since the establishment of the doctrine of organic evolution, questions of heredity, always sufficiently interesting, have been at the very focus of attention of the biological world. These questions, under modern treatment, have resolved themselves, since the mechanism of such transmission has been proximately understood, into problems of cellular activity. And much as has been learned about the cell of late, that interesting microcosm still offers a multitude of intricacies for solution.

Thus, at the very threshold, some of the most elementary principles of mechanical construction of the cell are still matters of controversy. On the one hand, it is held by Professor O. Butschli and his followers that the substance of the typical cell is essentially alveolar, or foamlike, comparable to an emulsion, and that the observed reticular structure of the cell is due to the intersections of the walls of the minute ultimate globules. But another equally authoritative school of workers holds to the view, first expressed by Frommann and Arnold, that the reticulum is really a system of threads, which constitute the most important basis of the cell structure. It is even held that these fibres penetrate the cell walls and connect adjoining cells, so that the entire body is a reticulum. For the moment there is no final decision between these opposing views. Professor Wilson of Columbia has suggested that both may contain a measure of truth.

Again, it is a question whether the finer granules seen within the cell are or are not typical structures, "capable of assimilation, growth, and division, and hence to be regarded as elementary units of structure standing between the cell and the ultimate molecules of living matter." The more philosophical thinkers, like Spencer, Darwin, Haeckel, Michael Foster, August Weismann, and many others, believe that such "intermediate units must exist, whether or not the microscope reveals them to view." Weismann, who has most fully elaborated a hypothetical scheme of the relations of the intracellular units, identifies the larger of these units not with the ordinary granules of the cell, but with a remarkable structure called chromatin, which becomes aggregated within the cell nucleus at the time of cellular division—a structure which divides into definite parts and goes through some most suggestive manoeuvres in the process of cell multiplication. All these are puzzling structures; and there is another minute body within the cell, called the centro-some, that is quite as much so. This structure, discovered by Van Beneden, has been regarded as essential to cell division, yet some recent botanical studies seem to show that sometimes it is altogether wanting in a dividing cell.

In a word, the architecture of the cell has been shown by modern researches to be wonderfully complicated, but the accumulating researches are just at a point where much is obscure about many of the observed phenomena. The immediate future seems full of promise of advances upon present understanding of cell processes. But for the moment it remains for us, as for preceding generations, about the most incomprehensible, scientifically speaking, of observed phenomena, that a single microscopic egg cell should contain within its substance all the potentialities of a highly differentiated adult being. The fact that it does contain such potentialities is the most familiar of every-day biological observations, but not even a proximal explanation of the fact is as yet attainable.

THE ANCESTRY OF THE MAMMALS

Turning from the cell as an individual to the mature organism which the cell composes when aggregated with its fellows, one finds the usual complement of open questions, of greater or less significance, focalizing the attention of working biologists. Thus the evolutionist, secure as is his general position, is yet in doubt when it comes to tracing the exact lineage of various forms. He does not know, for example, exactly which order of invertebrates contains the type from which vertebrates sprang, though several hotly contested opinions, each exclusive of the rest, are in the field. Again, there is like uncertainty and difference of opinion as to just which order of lower vertebrates formed the direct ancestry of the mammals. Among the mammals themselves there are several orders, such as the whales, the elephants, and even man himself, whose exact lines of more immediate ancestry are not as fully revealed by present paleontology as is to be desired.

THE NEW SCIENCE OF ANTHROPOLOGY

All these, however, are details that hardly take rank with the general problems that we are noticing. There are other questions, however, concerning the history and present evolution of man himself that are of wider scope, or at least seemingly greater importance from a human stand-point, which within recent decades have come for the first time within the scope of truly inductive science. These are the problems of anthropology—a science of such wide scope, such far-reaching collateral implications, that as yet its specific field and functions are not as clearly defined or as generally recognized as they are probably destined to be in the near future. The province of this new science is to correlate the discoveries of a wide range of collateral sciences—paleontology, biology, medicine, and so on—from the point of view of human history and human welfare. To this end all observable races of men are studied as to their physical characteristics, their mental and moral traits, their manners, customs, languages, and religions. A mass of data is already at hand, and in process of sorting and correlating. Out of this effort will probably come all manner of useful generalizations, perhaps in time bringing sociology, or the study of human social relations, to the rank of a veritable science. But great as is the promise of anthropology, it can hardly be denied that the broader questions with which it has to deal—questions of race, of government, of social evolution—are still this side the fixed plane of assured generalization. No small part of its interest and importance depends upon the fact that the great problems that engage it are as yet unsolved problems. In a word, anthropology is perhaps the most important science in the entire hierarchy to-day, precisely because it is an immature science. Its position to-day is perhaps not unlike that of paleontology at the close of the eighteenth century. May its promise find as full fruition!