Because, if its development be not interfered with, a definite egg necessarily gives rise to a definite kind of animal, a complete identity between the rudiment and the product, between cause and consequence, has been assumed more or less consciously. The conception of the sequence has been as if an organism caused its own development in a closed system of forces, in a kind of organic perpetual motion. It has been overlooked that, in the course of the development, many other conditions must be fulfilled, as without them the product never would come from the rudiment.

That the same adults may come from the eggs depends upon the egg-cells, in the ordinary course of events, being in similar conditions of anabolism and katabolism, being affected by gravity, light, temperature, and so forth, in the same way. Thus, when we are attempting to grasp the fundamental nature of the course of organic development, we must not omit the part played by these factors.

We may dwell for a moment upon this weighty point, as its significance is commonly misunderstood.

The course of each organic development depends in the first place, upon the absorption and metamorphosis of matter. Inorganic matter perpetually is being turned into organic material to serve for the growth and development of the rudiments. Thus, what in one stage of the development is mere inorganic material, and an external condition of the development of the rudiment, in the next stage is become a part of the rudiment. The food-yolk of an egg, for instance, like the oxygen of the atmosphere, appears, in its relation to the material of the rudiments, to be something supplied from outside, an external condition of the development; yet it is continually passing into the rudiments and altering them, even though the alteration may be purely quantitative. From this follows the very simple inference that during the course of an organic development external matter is always being changed into internal matter, or that the rudiments are continually growing and changing at the expense of the surroundings.

Now, let one reflect that the egg and the adult are two terminal states of organised material, and that they are separated from each other by an almost inconceivably long series of connecting, intermediate states; consider that each stage of the development is the rudiment and the producer of the succeeding stage, of the stage that follows, as the consequence of it; consider that what was external in each antecedent stage has entered the rudiment and become part of it in the succeeding stage. Then it will be understood that it is a logical error to assume that all the characters present in the last link of the chain of development have their determining causes in the first link of the chain. The mistake lies in this: in the failure to distinguish between the causes contained in the egg at the beginning of the development, and the causes entering it during the course of development from the accession of external material in the various stages. As there can be no absolute identity between rudiment and product, it is erroneous to transmute the visible complexity of the final stage of the development into an invisible complexity of the first stage, as the old evolutionists did, and as the new evolutionists are attempting to do.

But there is another error in the doctrine of determinants. This is in intimate union with the error just discussed, and, to put it shortly, consists in attributing to a cell—and the egg and spermatozoon are cells—the possession of characters not peculiar to cells, but resulting from the co-operation of many cells.

The characters of an adult active organism, like a plant or an animal, are exceedingly numerous, most varied in their nature, and essentially different. Some characters depend upon the healthy co-operation of nearly all the parts of the body, or of a group of organs; others are peculiar to an organ, and may be referred to its shape, structure, position, function, and so forth. Others, again, depend upon individual cells, or even upon separate parts of cells. Is it really possible that all these characters, so many and so heterogeneous, have special, material bearers in the germ, and that these bearers are either simple biophores or determinants—that is to say, groups of biophores?

I can conceive a cell as endowed only with the material bearers of such characters as really belong to a cell itself. Thus, a reproductive cell might have material particles as the rudiments for producing horn, chitin, chondrin, ossein, pigment, or chlorophyll, or for nerve-fibrils, muscle-fibrils; but not for producing a hair, or a separate ganglion of the spinal cord or the biceps muscle. The rudiments for hairs, nerve-ganglia, muscles, and so forth, must be groups of cells, for only groups of cells, and not specially arranged groups of particles within a cell, are able to grow into hairs, spinal ganglia, or muscles.

In a short statement, made in 1892, I said: 'The mistake into which speculations upon the nature of organic development has led so many investigators is this: they reflect the characters of the adult upon the undivided egg, and so people that sphere of yolk with a system of tiny particles, corresponding to the parts of the adult, qualitatively and in spacial relations. But in this method of thinking, it is left out of count that the egg is an organism which multiplies by division into numerous organisms like itself, and that, in each stage of the development, it is only by the mutual action of all these numerous elementary organisms that the development of the whole organism slowly proceeds.'

Weismann himself, in a discussion of the pangenes of De Vries, has partly shown that one cannot assume the existence in the cell of material particles that are the bearers of qualities foreign to the nature of a cell and transcending it. In reference to the attempt to explain zebra-striping by pangenes, he says (Germplasm, English edition, p. 16): 'There can be no "zebra-pangenes," because the striping of a zebra is not a cell character. There may perhaps be black and white pangenes, whose presence causes the black or white colour of a cell; but the striping of a zebra does not depend on the development of these colours within a cell, but is due to the regular alternation of thousands of black and white cells arranged in stripes.' Again (p. 17), he says: 'The serrated margin of a leaf, for instance, cannot depend on the presence of "serration-pangenes," but is due to the peculiar arrangement of the cells. The same argument would apply to almost all the obvious "characters" of the species, genus, family, and so on. For instance, the size, structure, veining, and shape of leaves, the characteristic and often absolutely constant patches of colour on the petals of flowers, such as orchids, may be referred to similar causes. These qualities can only arise by the regular co-operation of many cells.'