The first case he deals with is that of the progressive degradation of the human little toe. This he considers a good test case; and he proceeds to discuss an assigned cause—the inherited and accumulated effects of boot-pressure. Without much difficulty he shows that this interpretation is inadequate; since fusion of the phalanges, which constitutes in part the progressive degradation, is found among peoples who go barefoot, and has been found also in Egyptian mummies. Having thus disposed of Mr. Buckman's interpretation, Professor Weismann forthwith concludes that the ascription of this anatomical change to the inheritance of acquired characters is disposed of, and assumes, as the only other possible interpretation, a dwindling "through panmixia": "the hereditary degeneration of the little toe is thus quite simply explained from my standpoint."
It is surprising that Professor Weismann should not have seen that there is an explanation against which his criticism does not tell. If we go back to the genesis of the human type from some lower type of primates, we see that while the little toe has ceased to be of any use for climbing purposes, it has not come into any considerable use for walking and running. A glance at the feet of the sub-human primates in general, shows that the inner digits are, as compared with those of men, quite small, have no such relative length and massiveness as the human great toes. Leaving out the question of cause, it is manifest that the great toes have been immensely developed, since there took place the change from arboreal habits to terrestrial habits. A study of the mechanics of walking shows why this has happened. Stability requires that the "line of direction" (the vertical line let fall from the centre of gravity) shall fall within the base, and, in walking, shall be brought at each step within the area of support, or so near it that any tendency to fall may be checked at the next step. A necessary result is that if, at each step, the chief stress of support is thrown on the outer side of the foot, the body must be swayed so that the "line of direction" may fall within the outer side of the foot, or close to it; and when the next step is taken it must be similarly swayed in an opposite way, so that the outer side of the other foot may bear the weight. That is to say, the body must oscillate from side to side, or waddle. The movements of a duck when walking or running show what happens when the points of support are wide apart. Clearly this kind of movement conflicts with efficient locomotion. There is a waste of muscular energy in making these lateral movements, and they are at variance with the forward movement. We may infer, then, that the developing man profited by throwing the stress as much as possible on the inner sides of the feet; and was especially led to do this when going fast, which enabled him to abridge the oscillations: as indeed we now see in a drunken man. Thus there was thrown a continually increasing stress upon the inner digits as they progressively developed from the effects of use; until now that the inner digits, so large compared with the others, bear the greater part of the weight, and being relatively near one another, render needless any marked swayings from side to side. But what has meanwhile happened to the outer digits? Evidently as fast as the great toes have come more and more into play and developed, the little toes have gone more and more out of play and have been dwindling for—how long shall we say?—perhaps a hundred thousand years.
So far, then, am I from feeling that Professor Weismann has here raised a difficulty in the way of the doctrine I hold, that I feel indebted to him for having drawn attention to a very strong evidence in its support. This modification in the form of the foot, which has occurred since arboreal habits have given place to terrestrial habits, shows the effects of use and disuse simultaneously. The inner digits have increased by use while the outer digits have decreased by disuse.
* * * * *
Saying that he will not "pause to refute other apparent proofs of the transmission of acquired characters," Professor Weismann proceeds to deal with the argument which, with various illustrations, I have several times urged—the argument that the natural selection of fortuitously-arising variations cannot account for the adjustment of co-operative parts. Very clearly and very fairly he summarises this argument as used in The Principles of Biology in 1864. Admitting that in this case there are "enormous difficulties" in the way of any other interpretation than the inheritance of acquired characters, Professor Weismann before proceeding to assault this "last bulwark of the Lamarckian principle," premises that the inheritance of acquired characters cannot be a cause of change because inactive as well as active parts degenerate when they cease to be of use: instancing the "skin and skin-armature of crabs and insects." On this I may remark in the first place that an argument derived from degeneracy of passive structures scarcely meets the case of development of active structures; and I may remark in the second place that I have never dreamt of denying the efficiency of natural selection as a cause of degeneracy in passive structures when the degeneracy is such as aids the prosperity of the stirp.
Making this parenthetical reply to his parenthetical criticism I pass to his discussion of this particular argument which he undertakes to dispose of.
His cheval de bataille is furnished him by the social insects—not a fresh one, however, as might be supposed from the way in which he mounts it. From time to time it has carried other riders, who have couched their lances with fatal effects as they supposed. But I hope to show that no one of them has unhorsed an antagonist, and that Professor Weismann fails to do this just as completely as his predecessors. I am, indeed, not sorry that he has afforded me the opportunity of criticising the general discussion concerning the peculiarities of these interesting creatures, which it has often seemed to me sets out with illegitimate assumptions. The supposition always is that the specialities of structures and instincts in the unlike classes of their communities, have arisen during the period in which the communities have existed in something like their present forms. This cannot be. It is doubtless true that association without differentiations of classes may pre-exist for co-operative purposes, as among wolves, and as among various insects which swarm under certain circumstances. Hence we may suppose that there arise in some cases permanent swarms—that survival of the fittest will establish these constant swarms where they are advantageous. But admitting this, we have also to admit a gradual rise of the associated state out of the solitary state. Wasps and bees present us with gradations. If, then, we are to understand how the organized societies have arisen, either out of the solitary state or out of undifferentiated swarms, we must assume that the differences of structure and instinct among the members of them arose little by little, as the social organization arose little by little. Fortunately we are able to trace the greater part of the process in the annually-formed communities of the common wasp; and we shall recognize in it an all-important factor (ignored by Professor Weismann) to which the phenomena, or at any rate the greater part of them, are due.
But before describing the wasp's annual history, let me set down certain observations made when, as a boy, I was given to angling, and, in July or August, sometimes used for bait "wasp-grubs," as they were called. After having had two or three days the combs or "cakes" of these, full of unfed larvæ in all stages of growth, I often saw some of them devouring the edges of their cells to satisfy their appetites; and saw others, probably the most advanced in growth, which were spinning the little covering caps to their cells, in preparation for assuming the pupa state. It is to be inferred that if, after a certain stage of growth has been reached, the food-supply becomes inadequate or is stopped altogether, the larva undergoes its transformation prematurely; and, as we shall presently see, this premature transformation has several natural sequences.
Let us return now to the wasp's family history. In the spring, a queen-wasp or mother-wasp which has survived the winter, begins to make a small nest containing four or more cells in which she lays eggs, and as fast as she builds additional cells, she lays an egg in each. Presently, to these activities, is added the feeding of the larvæ: one result being that the multiplication of larvæ involves a restriction of the food that can be given to each. If we suppose that the mother-wasp rears no more larvæ than she can fully feed, there will result queens or mothers like herself, relatively few in number. But if we suppose that, laying more numerous eggs she produces more larvæ than she can fully feed, the result will be that when these have reached a certain stage of growth, inadequate supply of food will be followed by premature retirement and transformation into pupæ. What will be the characters of the developed insects? The first effect of arrested nutrition will be smaller size. This we find. A second effect will be defective development of parts that are latest formed and least important for the survival of the individual. Hence we may look for arrested development of the reproductive organs—non-essential to individual life. And this expectation is in accord with what we see in animal development at large; for (passing over entirely sexless individuals) we see that though the reproductive organs may be marked out early in the course of development, they are not made fit for action until after the structures for carrying on individual life are nearly complete. The implication is, then, that an inadequately-fed and small larva will become a sterile imago. Having noted this, let us pass to a remarkable concomitant. In the course of development, organs are formed not alone in the order of their original succession, but partly in the order of importance and the share they have to take in adult activities—a change of order called by Haeckel "heterochrony." Hence the fact that we often see the maternal instinct precede the sexual instinct. Every little girl with her doll shows us that the one may become alive while the other remains dormant. In the case of wasps, then, premature arrest of development may result in incompleteness of the sexual traits, along with completeness of the maternal traits. What happens? Leave out the laying of eggs, and the energies of the mother-wasp are spent wholly in building cells and feeding larvæ, and the worker-wasp forthwith begins to spend its life in building cells and feeding larvæ. Thus interpreting the facts, we have no occasion to assume any constitutional difference between the eggs of worker-wasps and the eggs of queens; and that, their eggs are not different we see, first, in the fact that occasionally the worker-wasp is fertile and lays drone-producing eggs, and we see secondly that (if in this respect they are like the bees, of which, however, we have no proof) the larva of a worker-wasp can be changed into the larva of a queen-wasp by special feeding. But be this as it may, we have good evidence that the feeding determines everything. Says Dr. Ormerod, in his British Social Wasps:—
"When the swarm is strong and food plentiful ... the well fed larvæ develop into females, full, large, and overflowing with fat. There are all gradations of size, from the large fat female to the smallest worker.... The larger the wasp, the larger and better developed, as the rule, are the female organs, in all their details. In the largest wasps, which are to be the queens of another year, the ovaries differ to all appearances in nothing but their size from those of the larger worker wasps.... Small feeble swarms produce few or no perfect females; but in large strong swarms they are found by the score." (pp. 248-9)