To him who grudgingly allows, “I think you have proved your case—but what does it prove?” I reply that it proves what it set out to prove, no more and no less, and it is an integral part of proof of a larger claim. And if he further grumble that these matters have no interest for him, one may ask him to live and let live. “What have I now done in comparison of you, is not the gleaning of your grapes of great Ephraim better than the vintage of this little Abiezer?”
To the man who reads the preface and the headings of the chapters, glances at the illustrations, detects one split infinitive, two misspellings and three errors of punctuation, goes home to tea and writes his opinion—it may suffice to remind him of “that curious mental state which looks past problems without seeing them.”
I will conclude this section with a parable.
In the year 1788 Arthur Young in his travels through France visited the desolate region of the Landes. “Wastes, wastes, wastes!” was his lament over neglected Brittany, and no less could he say of the Landes, at that time a miserable tract of low ground, bordering the Bay of Biscay. Plantations, the sinking of wells, drainage and irrigation began to fix the unstable sands, making fruitful the marsh, creating a healthful climate and a fertile soil. Early in the 19th century the land here was sold au son de la voix, that is to say, the accepted standard of measurement was the compass of the human lungs. The stretch of ground reached by a man’s voice sold for a few francs. Crops replaced the scanty herbage of the salt marsh, and a familiar characteristic of the landscape, the shepherd on stilts, was seen no more. Six hundred thousand hectares of Landes planted with sea pines produced resin to the annual value of fifteen million francs, and through these trees also was achieved a climatic revolution, and it is this district which is now a department of a great and well-ordered State.[62]
CHAPTER XVII.
VARIETIES OF EPIDERMIS.
Passing now to the smaller trenches of the front line I have chosen as the first of them a small study of the varieties of epidermis found in mammals. With the exception of aquatic mammals so few of this, the greatest vertebrate class, are not clothed with hair that it is only on the comparatively hairless body of man, with its third of a million fine hairs, that the varieties of epidermis can be broadly studied. Much of this chapter will resolve itself into a consideration of the palmar and plantar surfaces of certain mammals, where no hairy covering obscures the operation of stimulus and response.
I assume that the foregoing phenomena of hair-direction have chosen and raised on his shield their own king. But here I must ask of the succeeding groups when they say, “I am, Sir, under the King, in some authority,” the question, “Under which King, Bezonian, speak or die”—
Shall it be Darwin’s Personal Selection?
Roux’s Cellular or Histonal Selection?
Wallace’s and Romanes’ Sexual Selection?
Weismann’s Germinal Selection?
The rule of Mendel?
Selection of mutations according to de Vries?
Or shall it be the barbarian king Plasto-diēthēsis?