If the analogy of crystals be set aside and we seek for other parallels to regeneration there are none very obvious. I have sometimes wondered whether it might not be possible to institute a fruitful comparison between the renewal of parts and the reformation of waves of certain classes after obliteration. In several respects, as I have already said, some curious resemblances with the repetitions formed by wave-motion are to be traced in our organic phenomena, and though admitting that I cannot develop these comparisons, I think nevertheless they may be worth bearing in mind. When, after obliteration, an eddy in a stream, or a ripple-mark (a more complex case of eddy-formation) in blown sand is re-formed, we have an example in which pattern is reconstituted and growth takes place not by virtue of the composition of the materials—in this case the water or the sand—but by the way in which they are acted upon by extraneous forces.
A feature in the actual mode by which ripple-marks are reconstituted may not be without interest in connexion with our phenomena of regeneration. When, for example, the wind is blowing steadily over a surface of fine, dry sand, the familiar ripple-marks are formed by a heaping of the sand in lines transverse to the direction of the wind. The heaping is due to the formation of eddies corresponding with positions of instability. When the wind is steady and the sand homogeneous, the distances between the ripples, or wave-lengths, are sensibly equal. If while the wind continues to blow, the ripples are obliterated with a soft brush they will quickly be re-formed over the whole area, but I have noticed that at first their wave-length is approximately half that of the ripples in the undisturbed parts of the system.[12] The normal wave-length is restored by the gradual accentuation of alternate ripples. Of course the sand-ripples are in reality slowly travelling forward in the direction towards which the wind is blowing, and for this our living segmentations afford no obvious parallel, but the appearances in the area of reformation, and especially the forking of the old ridges where they join the new ones, are curiously reminiscent of the irregularities of segmentation seen in regenerated structures. The value of the considerations adduced in the chapter is, I admit, very small. The utmost that can be claimed for them is that mechanical segmentations, like those seen in ripple-mark, or in Leduc's osmotic growths, show how by the action of a continuous force in one direction, repeated and serially homologous divisions can be produced having features of similarity common to those repetitions by which organic forms and patterns are characterised. The analogy supplies a vicarious picture of the phenomena which in default of one more true may in a slight degree assist our thoughts. It suggests that the rhythms of segmentation may be the consequence of a single force definite in direction and continuously acting during the time of growth. The polarity of the organism would thus be the expression of the fact that this meristic force is definitely directed after it has once been excited, and the reversal seen in some products of regeneration suggest further that it is capable of being reflected. This polarity cannot be a property of the material, as such, but is determined by a force acting on that material, just as the polarity of a magnet is not determined by the arrangement of its particles, but by the direction in which the current flows.
To some it may appear that even to embark on such discussions as this is to enter into a perilous flirtation with vitalistic theories. How, they may ask, can any force competent to produce chemical and geometrical differentiation in the body be distinguished from the "Entelechy" of Driesch? Let me admit that in this reflexion there is one element of truth. If those who proclaim a vitalistic faith intend thereby to affirm that in the processes by which growth and division are effected in the body, a part is played by an orderly force which we cannot now translate into terms of any known mechanics, what observant man is not a vitalist? Driesch's first volume, putting as it does into intelligible language that positive deduction from the facts—especially of regeneration—should carry a vivid realisation of this truth to any mind. If after their existence is realised, it is desired that these unknown forces of order should have a name, and the word entelechy is proposed, the only objection I have to make is that the adoption of a term from Aristotelian philosophy carries a plain hint that we propose to relegate the future study of the problem to metaphysic.
From this implication the vitalist does not shrink. But I cannot find in the facts yet known to us any justification of so hopeless a course. It was but yesterday that the study of Entwicklungsmechanik was begun, and if in our slight survey we have not yet seen how the living machine is to be expressed in terms of natural knowledge that is poor cause for despair. Driesch sums up his argument thus:[13]
"It seems to me that there is only one conclusion possible. If we are going to explain what happens in our harmonious-equipotential systems by the aid of causality based upon the constellation of single chemical factors and events, there must be some such thing as a machine. Now the assumption of the existence of a machine proves to be absolutely absurd in the light of the experimental facts. Therefore there can be neither any sort of a machine nor any sort of causality based upon constellation underlying the differentiation of harmonious-equipotential systems."
"For a machine, typical with regard to the three chief dimensions of space, cannot remain itself if you remove parts of it or if you rearrange its parts at will."
To the last clause a note is added as follows:
"The pressure experiments and the dislocation experiments come into account here; for the sake of simplicity they have not been alluded to in the main line of our argument."
I doubt whether any man has sufficient knowledge of all possible machines to give reality to this statement. In spite also of the astonishing results of experiments in dislocation, doubt may further be expressed as to whether they have been tried in such variety or on such a scale as to justify the suggestion that the living organism remains itself if its parts are rearranged at will. All we know is that it can "remain itself" when much is removed, and when much rearrangement has been affected, which is a different thing altogether.
I scarcely like to venture into a region of which my ignorance is so profound, but remembering the powers of eddies to re-form after partial obliteration or disturbance, I almost wonder whether they are not essentially machines which remain themselves when parts of them are removed.