The Principles of Biology Vol. I/Appendix D

[The following letter, originally written for publication in the North American Review, but declined by the Editor in pursuance of a general rule, and eventually otherwise published in the United States, I have thought well to append to this first volume of the Principles of Biology. I do this because the questions which it discusses are dealt with in this volume; and because the further explanations it furnishes seem needful to prevent misapprehensions.]

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It is in most cases unwise to notice adverse criticisms. Either they do not admit of answers or the answers may be left to the penetration of readers. When, however, a critic's allegations touch the fundamental propositions of a book, and especially when they appear in a periodical having the position of the North American Review, the case is altered. For these reasons the article on "Philosophical Biology," published in your last number, demands from me an attention which ordinary criticisms do not.

It is the more needful for me to notice it, because its two leading objections have the one an actual fairness and the other an apparent fairness; and in the absence of explanations from me, they will be considered as substantiated even by many, or perhaps most, of those who have read the work itself—much more by those who have not read it. That to prevent the spread of misapprehensions I ought to say something, is further shown by the fact that the same two objections have already been made in England—the one by Dr. Child, of Oxford, in his Essays on Physiological Subjects, and the other by a writer in the Westminster Review for July, 1865.

In the note to which your reviewer refers, I have, as he says, tacitly repudiated the belief in "spontaneous generation;" and that I have done this in such a way as to leave open the door for the interpretation given by him is true. Indeed the fact that Dr. Child, whose criticism is a sympathetic one, puts the same construction on this note, proves that your reviewer has but drawn what seems to be a necessary inference. Nevertheless, the inference is one which I did not intend to be drawn.

In explanation, let me at the outset remark that I am placed at a disadvantage in having had to omit that part of the System of Philosophy which deals with Inorganic Evolution. In the original programme will be found a parenthetic reference to this omitted part, which should, as there stated, precede the Principles of Biology. Two volumes are missing. The closing chapter of the second, were it written, would deal with the evolution of organic matter—the step preceding the evolution of living forms. Habitually carrying with me in thought the contents of this unwritten chapter, I have, in some cases, expressed myself as though the reader had it before him; and have thus rendered some of my statements liable to misconstructions. Apart from this, however, the explanation of the apparent inconsistency is very simple, if not very obvious. In the first place, I do not believe in the "spontaneous generation" commonly alleged, and referred to in the note; and so little have I associated in thought this alleged "spontaneous generation" which I disbelieve, with the generation by evolution which I do believe, that the repudiation of the one never occurred to me as liable to be taken for repudiation of the other. That creatures having quite specific structures are evolved in the course of a few hours, without antecedents calculated to determine their specific forms, is to me incredible. Not only the established truths of Biology, but the established truths of science in general, negative the supposition that organisms having structures definite enough to identify them as belonging to known genera and species, can be produced in the absence of germs derived from antecedent organisms of the same genera and species. If there can suddenly be imposed on simple protoplasm the organization which constitutes it a Paramœcium, I see no reason why animals of greater complexity, or indeed of any complexity, may not be constituted after the same manner. In brief, I do not accept these alleged facts as exemplifying Evolution, because they imply something immensely beyond that which Evolution, as I understand it, can achieve. In the second place, my disbelief extends not only to the alleged cases of "spontaneous generation," but to every case akin to them. The very conception of spontaneity is wholly incongruous with the conception of Evolution. For this reason I regard as objectionable Mr. Darwin's phrase "spontaneous variation" (as indeed he does himself); and I have sought to show that there are always assignable causes of variation. No form of Evolution, inorganic or organic, can be spontaneous; but in every instance the antecedent forces must be adequate in their quantities, kinds, and distributions, to work the observed effects. Neither the alleged cases of "spontaneous generation," nor any imaginable cases in the least allied to them, fulfil this requirement.

If, accepting these alleged cases of "spontaneous generation," I had assumed, as your reviewer seems to do, that the evolution of organic life commenced in an analogous way; then, indeed, I should have left myself open to a fatal criticism. This supposed "spontaneous generation" habitually occurs in menstrua that contain either organic matter, or matter originally derived from organisms; and such organic matter, proceeding in all known cases from organisms of a higher kind, implies the pre-existence of such higher organisms. By what kind of logic, then, is it inferrible that organic life was initiated after a manner like that in which Infusoria are said to be now spontaneously generated? Where, before life commenced, were the superior organisms from which these lowest organisms obtained their organic matter? Without doubting that there are those who, as the reviewer says, "can penetrate deeper than Mr. Spencer has done into the idea of universal evolution," and who, as he contends, prove this by accepting the doctrine of "spontaneous generation"; I nevertheless think that I can penetrate deep enough to see that a tenable hypothesis respecting the origin of organic life must be reached by some other clue than that furnished by experiments on decoction of hay and extract of beef.

From what I do not believe, let me now pass to what I do believe. Granting that the formation of organic matter, and the evolution of life in its lowest forms, may go on under existing cosmical conditions; but believing it more likely that the formation of such matter and such forms, took place at a time when the heat of the Earth's surface was falling through those ranges of temperature at which the higher organic compounds are unstable; I conceive that the moulding of such organic matter into the simplest types, must have commenced with portions of protoplasm more minute, more indefinite, and more inconstant in their characters, than the lowest Rhizopods—less distinguishable from a mere fragment of albumen than even the Protogenes of Professor Haeckel. The evolution of specific shapes must, like all other organic evolution, have resulted from the actions and reactions between such incipient types and their environments, and the continued survival of those which happened to have specialities best fitted to the specialities of their environments. To reach by this process the comparatively well-specialized forms of ordinary Infusoria, must, I conceive, have taken an enormous period of time.

To prevent, as far as may be, future misapprehension, let me elaborate this conception so as to meet the particular objections raised. The reviewer takes for granted that a "first organism" must be assumed by me, as it is by himself. But the conception of a "first organism," in anything like the current sense of the words, is wholly at variance with conception of evolution; and scarcely less at variance with the facts revealed by the microscope. The lowest living things are not properly speaking organisms at all; for they have no distinctions of parts—no traces of organization. It is almost a misuse of language to call them "forms" of life: not only are their outlines, when distinguishable, too unspecific for description, but they change from moment to moment and are never twice alike, either in two individuals or in the same individual. Even the word "type" is applicable in but a loose way; for there is little constancy in their generic characters: according as the surrounding conditions determine, they undergo transformations now of one kind and now of another. And the vagueness, the inconstancy, the want of appreciable structure, displayed by the simplest of living things as we now see them, are characters (or absences of characters) which, on the hypothesis of Evolution, must have been still more decided when, as at first, no "forms," no "types," no "specific shapes," had been moulded. That "absolute commencement of organic life on the globe," which the reviewer says I "cannot evade the admission of," I distinctly deny. The affirmation of universal evolution is in itself the negation of an "absolute commencement" of anything. Construed in terms of evolution, every kind of being is conceived as a product of modifications wrought by insensible gradations on a pre-existing kind of being; and this holds as fully of the supposed "commencement of organic life" as of all subsequent developments of organic life. It is no more needful to suppose an "absolute commencement of organic life" or a "first organism," than it is needful to suppose an absolute commencement of social life and a first social organism. The assumption of such a necessity in this last case, made by early speculators with their theories of "social contracts" and the like, is disproved by the facts; and the facts, so far as they are ascertained, disprove the assumption of such a necessity in the first case. That organic matter was not produced all at once, but was reached through steps, we are well warranted in believing by the experiences of chemists. Organic matters are produced in the laboratory by what we may literally call artificial evolution. Chemists find themselves unable to form these complex combinations directly from their elements; but they succeed in forming them indirectly, by successive modifications of simpler combinations. In some binary compound, one element of which is present in several equivalents, a change is made by substituting for one of these equivalents an equivalent of some other element; so producing a ternary compound. Then another of the equivalents is replaced, and so on. For instance, beginning with ammonia, N H$3$, a higher form is obtained by replacing one of the atoms of hydrogen by an atom of methyl, so producing methyl-amine, N (C H$3$ H$2$); and then, under the further action of methyl, ending in a further substitution, there is reached the still more compound substance dimethyl-amine, N (C H$3$) (C H$3$) H. And in this manner highly complex substances are eventually built up. Another characteristic of their method is no less significant. Two complex compounds are employed to generate, by their action upon one another, a compound of still greater complexity: different heterogeneous molecules of one stage, become parents of a molecule a stage higher in heterogeneity. Thus, having built up acetic acid out of its elements, and having by the process of substitution described above, changed the acetic acid into propionic acid, and propionic into butyric, of which the formula is

this complex compound, by operating on another complex compound, such as the dimethyl-amine named above, generates one of still greater complexity, butyrate of dimethyl-amine

See, then, the remarkable parallelism. The progress towards higher types of organic molecules is effected by modifications upon modifications; as throughout Evolution in general. Each of these modifications is a change of the molecule into equilibrium with its environment—an adaptation, as it were, to new surrounding conditions to which it is subjected; as throughout Evolution in general. Larger, or more integrated, aggregates (for compound molecules are such) are successively generated; as throughout Evolution in general. More complex or heterogeneous aggregates are so made to arise, one out of another; as throughout Evolution in general. A geometrically-increasing multitude of these larger and more complex aggregates so produced, at the same time results; as throughout Evolution in general. And it is by the action of the successively higher forms on one another, joined with the action of environing conditions, that the highest forms are reached; as throughout Evolution in general.

When we thus see the identity of method at the two extremes—when we see that the general laws of evolution, as they are exemplified in known organisms, have been unconsciously conformed to by chemists in the artificial evolution of organic matter; we can scarcely doubt that these laws were conformed to in the natural evolution of organic matter, and afterwards in the evolution of the simplest organic forms. In the early world, as in the modern laboratory, inferior types of organic substances, by their mutual actions under fit conditions, evolved the superior types of organic substances, ending in organizable protoplasm. And it can hardly be doubted that the shaping of organizable protoplasm, which is a substance modifiable in multitudinous ways with extreme facility, went on after the same manner. As I learn from one of our first chemists, Prof. Frankland, protein is capable of existing under probably at least a thousand isomeric forms; and, as we shall presently see, it is capable of forming, with itself and other elements, substances yet more intricate in composition, that are practically infinite in their varieties of kind. Exposed to those innumerable modifications of conditions which the Earth's surface afforded, here in amount of light, there in amount of heat, and elsewhere in the mineral quality of its aqueous medium, this extremely changeable substance must have undergone now one, now another, of its countless metamorphoses. And to the mutual influences of its metamorphic forms under favouring conditions, we may ascribe the production of the still more composite, still more sensitive, still more variously-changeable portions of organic matter, which, in masses more minute and simpler than existing Protozoa, displayed actions verging little by little into those called vital—actions which protein itself exhibits in a certain degree, and which the lowest known living things exhibit only in a greater degree. Thus, setting out with inductions from the experiences of organic chemists at the one extreme, and with inductions from the observations of biologists at the other extreme, we are enabled deductively to bridge the interval—are enabled to conceive how organic compounds were evolved, and how, by a continuance of the process, the nascent life displayed in these became gradually more pronounced. And this it is which has to be explained, and which the alleged cases of "spontaneous generation" would not, were they substantiated, help us in the least to explain.

It is thus manifest, I think, that I have not fallen into the alleged inconsistency. Nevertheless, I admit that your reviewer was justified in inferring this inconsistency; and I take blame to myself for not having seen that the statement, as I have left it, is open to misconstruction.

I pass now to the second allegation—that in ascribing to certain specific molecules, which I have called "physiological units," the aptitude to build themselves into the structure of the organism to which they are peculiar, I have abandoned my own principle, and have assumed something beyond the re-distribution of Matter and Motion. As put by the reviewer, his case appears to be well made out; and that he is not altogether unwarranted in so putting it, may be admitted. Nevertheless, there does not in reality exist the supposed incongruity.

Before attempting to make clear the adequacy of the conception which I am said to have tacitly abandoned as insufficient, let me remove that excess of improbability the reviewer gives to it, by the extremely-restricted meaning with which he uses the word mechanical. In discussing a proposition of mine he says:—

"He then cites certain remarks of Mr. Paget on the permanent effects wrought in the blood by the poison of scarlatina and small-pox, as justifying the belief that such a 'power' exists, and attributes the repair of a wasted tissue to 'forces analogous to those by which a crystal reproduces its lost apex.' (Neither of which phenomena, however, is explicable by mechanical causes.)"

Were it not for the deliberation with which this last statement is made, I should take it for a slip of the pen. As it is, however, I have no course left but to suppose the reviewer unaware of the fact that molecular actions of all kinds are now not only conceived as mechanical actions, but that calculations based on this conception of them, bring out the results that correspond with observation. There is no kind of re-arrangement among molecules (crystallization being one) which the modern physicist does not think of. and correctly reason upon, in terms of forces and motions like those of sensible masses. Polarity is regarded as a resultant of such forces and motions; and when, as happens in many cases, light changes the molecular structure of a crystal, and alters its polarity, it does this by impressing, in conformity with mechanical laws, new motions on the constituent molecules. That the reviewer should present the mechanical conception under so extremely limited a form, is the more surprising to me because, at the outset of the very work he reviews, I have, in various passages, based inferences on those immense extensions of it which he ignores; indicating, for example, the interpretation it yields of the inorganic chemical changes effected by heat, and the organic chemical changes effected by light (Principles of Biology, § 13).

Premising, then, that the ordinary idea of mechanical action must be greatly expanded, let us enter upon the question at issue—the sufficiency of the hypothesis that the structure of each organism is determined by the polarities of the special molecules, or physiological units, peculiar to it as a species, which necessitate tendencies towards special arrangements. My proposition and the reviewer's criticism upon it, will be most conveniently presented if I quote in full a passage of his from which I have already extracted some expressions. He says:—

"It will be noticed, however, that Mr. Spencer attributes the possession of these 'tendencies,' or 'proclivities,' to natural inheritance from ancestral organisms; and it may be argued that he thus saves the mechanist theory and his own consistency at the same time, inasmuch as he derives even the 'tendencies' themselves ultimately from the environment. To this we reply, that Mr. Spencer, who advocates the nebular hypothesis, cannot evade the admission of an absolute commencement of organic life on the globe, and that the 'formative tendencies,' without which he cannot explain the evolution of a single individual, could not have been inherited by the first organism. Besides, by his virtual denial of spontaneous generation, he denies that the first organism was evolved out of the inorganic world, and thus shuts himself off from the argument (otherwise plausible) that its 'tendencies' were ultimately derived from the environment."

This assertion is already in great measure disposed of by what has been said above. Holding that, though not "spontaneously generated," those minute portions of protoplasm which first displayed in the feeblest degree that changeability taken to imply life, were evolved, I am not debarred from the argument that the "tendencies" of the physiological units are derived from the inherited effects of environing actions. If the conception of a "first organism" were a necessary one, the reviewer's objection would be valid. If there were an "absolute commencement" of life, a definite line parting organic matter from the simplest living forms, I should be placed in the predicament he describes. But as the doctrine of Evolution itself tacitly negatives any such distinct separation; and as the negation is the more confirmed by the facts the more we know of them; I do not feel that I am entangled in the alleged difficulty. My reply might end here; but as the hypothesis in question is one not easily conceived, and very apt to be misunderstood, I will attempt a further elucidation of it.

Much evidence now conspires to show that molecules of the substances we call elementary are in reality compound; and that, by the combination of these with one another, and re-combinations of the products, there are formed systems of systems of molecules, unimaginable in their complexity. Step by step as the aggregate molecules so resulting, grow larger and increase in heterogeneity, they become more unstable, more readily transformable by small forces, more capable of assuming various characters. Those composing organic matter transcend all others in size and intricacy of structure; and in them these resulting traits reach their extreme. As implied by its name protein, the essential substance of which organisms are built, is remarkable alike for the variety of its metamorphoses and the facility with which it undergoes them: it changes from one to another of its thousand isomeric forms on the slightest change of conditions. Now there are facts warranting the belief that though these multitudinous isomeric forms of protein will not unite directly with one another, yet they admit of being linked together by other elements with which they combine. And it is very significant that there are habitually present two other elements, sulphur and phosphorus, which have quite special powers of holding together many equivalents—the one being pentatomic and the other hexatomic. So that it is a legitimate supposition (justified by analogies) that an atom of sulphur may be a bond of union among half-a-dozen different isomeric forms of protein; and similarly with phosphorus. A moment's thought will show that, setting out with the thousand isomeric forms of protein, this makes possible a number of these combinations almost passing the power of figures to express. Molecules so produced, perhaps exceeding in size and complexity those of protein as those of protein exceed those of inorganic matter, may, I conceive, be the special units belonging to special kinds of organisms. By their constitution they must have a plasticity, or sensitiveness to modifying forces, far beyond that of protein; and bearing in mind not only that their varieties are practically infinite in number, but that closely allied forms of them, chemically indifferent to one another as they must be, may coexist in the same aggregate, we shall see that they are fitted for entering into unlimited varieties of organic structures.

The existence of such physiological units, peculiar to each species of organism, is not unaccounted for. They are evolved simultaneously with the evolution of the organisms they compose—they differentiate as fast as these organisms differentiate; and are made multitudinous in kind by the same actions which make the organism they compose multitudinous, in kind. This conception is clearly representable in terms of the mechanical hypothesis. Every physicist will endorse the proposition that in each aggregate there tends to establish itself an equilibrium between the forces exercised by all the units upon each and by each upon all. Even in masses of substance so rigid as iron and glass, there goes on a molecular re-arrangement, slow or rapid according as circumstances facilitate, which ends only when there is a complete balance between the actions of the parts on the whole and the actions of the whole on the parts: the implications being that every change in the form or size of the whole, necessitates some redistribution of the parts. And though in cases like these, there occurs only a polar re-arrangement of the molecules, without changes in the molecules themselves; yet where, as often happens, there is a passage from the colloid to the crystalloid state, a change of constitution occurs in the molecules themselves. These truths are not limited to inorganic matter: they unquestionably hold of organic matter. As certainly as molecules of alum have a form of equilibrium, the octahedron, into which they fall when the temperature of their solvent allows them to aggregate, so certainly must organic molecules of each kind, no matter how complex, have a form of equilibrium in which, when they aggregate, their complex forces are balanced—a form far less rigid and definite, for the reason that they have far less definite polarities, are far more unstable, and have their tendencies more easily modified by environing conditions. Equally certain is it that the special molecules having a special organic structure as their form of equilibrium, must be reacted upon by the total forces of this organic structure; and that, if environing actions lead to any change in this organic structure, these special molecules, or physiological units, subject to a changed distribution of the total forces acting upon them will undergo modification—modification which their extreme plasticity will render easy. By this action and reaction I conceive the physiological units peculiar to each kind of organism, to have been moulded along with the organism itself. Setting out with the stage in which protein in minute aggregates, took on those simplest differentiations which fitted it for differently-conditioned parts of its medium, there must have unceasingly gone on perpetual re-adjustments of balance between aggregates and their units—actions and reactions of the two, in which the units tended ever to establish the typical form produced by actions and reactions in all antecedent generations, while the aggregate, if changed in form by change of surrounding conditions, tended ever to impress on the units a corresponding change of polarity, causing them in the next generation to reproduce the changed form—their new form of equilibrium.

This is the conception which I have sought to convey, though it seems unsuccessfully, in the Principles of Biology; and which I have there used to interpret the many involved and mysterious phenomena of Genesis, Heredity, and Variation. In one respect only am I conscious of having so inadequately explained myself, as to give occasion for a misinterpretation—the one made by the Westminster reviewer above referred to. By him, as by your own critic, it is alleged that in the idea of "inherent tendencies" I have introduced, under a disguise, the conception of "the archæus, vital principle, nisus formativus, and so on." This allegation is in part answered by the foregoing explanation. That which I have here to add, and did not adequately explain in the Principles of Biology, is that the proclivity of units of each order towards the specific arrangement seen in the organism they form, is not to be understood as resulting from their own structures and actions only; but as the product of these and the environing forces to which they are exposed. Organic evolution takes place only on condition that the masses of protoplasm formed of the physiological units, and of the assimilable materials out of which others like themselves are to be multiplied, are subject to heat of a given degree—are subject, that is, to the unceasing impacts of undulations of a certain strength and period; and, within limits, the rapidity with which the physiological units pass from their indefinite arrangement to the definite arrangement they presently assume, is proportionate to the strengths of the ethereal undulations falling upon them. In its complete form, then, the conception is that these specific molecules, having the immense complexity above described, and having correspondently complex polarities which cannot be mutually balanced by any simple form of aggregation, have, for the form of aggregation in which all their forces are equilibrated, the structure of the adult organism to which they belong; and that they are compelled to fall into this structure by the co-operation of the environing forces acting on them, and the forces they exercise on one another—the environing forces being the source of the power which effects the re-arrangement, and the polarities of the molecules determining the direction in which that power is turned. Into this conception there enters no trace of the hypothesis of an "archæus or vital principle;" and the principles of molecular physics fully justify it.

It is, however, objected that "the living body in its development presents a long succession of differing forms; a continued series of changes for the whole length of which, according to Mr. Spencer's hypothesis, the physiological units must have an 'inherent tendency.' Could we more truly say of anything, 'it is unrepresentable in thought?'" I reply that if there is taken into account an element here overlooked, the process will not be found "unrepresentable in thought." This is the element of size or mass. To satisfy or balance the polarities of each order of physiological units, not only a certain structure of organism, but a certain size of organism is needed; for the complexities of that adult structure in which the physiological units are equilibrated, cannot be represented within the small bulk of the embryo. In many minute organisms, where the whole mass of physiological units required for the structure is present, the very thing does take place which it is above implied ought to take place. The mass builds itself directly into the complete form. This is so with Acari, and among the nematoid Entozoa. But among higher animals such direct transformations cannot happen. The mass of physiological units required to produce the size as well as the structure that approximately equilibrates them, is not all present, but has to be formed by successive additions—additions which in viviparous animals are made by absorbing, and transforming into these special molecules, the organizable materials directly supplied by the parent, and which in oviparous animals are made by doing the like with the organizable materials in the "food-yelk," deposited by the parent in the same envelope with the germ. Hence it results that, under such conditions, the physiological units which first aggregate into the rudiment of the future organism, do not form a structure like that of the adult organism, which, when of such small dimensions, does not equilibrate them. They distribute themselves so as partly to satisfy the chief among their complex polarities. The vaguely-differentiated mass thus produced cannot, however, be in equilibrium. Each increment of physiological units formed and integrated by it, changes the distribution of forces; and this has a double effect. It tends to modify the differentiations already made, bringing them a step nearer to the equilibrating structure; and the physiological units next integrated, being brought under the aggregate of polar forces exercised by the whole mass, which now approaches a step nearer to that ultimate distribution of polar forces which exists in the adult organism, are coerced more directly into the typical structure. Thus there is necessitated a series of compromises. Each successive form assumed is unstable and transitional: approach to the typical structure going on hand in hand with approach to the typical bulk.

Possibly I have not succeeded by this explanation, any more than by the original explanation, in making this process "representable in thought." It is manifestly untrue, however, that I have, as alleged, re-introduced under a disguise the conception of a "vital principle." That I interpret embryonic development in terms of Matter and Motion, cannot, I think, be questioned. Whether the interpretation is adequate, must be a matter of opinion; but it is clearly a matter of fact, that I have not fallen into the inconsistency asserted by your reviewer. At the same time I willingly admit that, in the absence of certain statements which I have now supplied, he was not unwarranted in representing my conception in the way that he has done.